agentlelog | event: a gentle explosion

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event: a gentle explosion

I see a world just out of reach
With shoulders of giants at my feet
There’s not a challenge I’m afraid to meet

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND
You wake, warm and comfortable, and realize that you’re no longer where you were when you went to sleep. The dream was real. As you clamber out of bed and open your door, an impassive footman greets you and leads you to breakfast in a large hall filled with many, many people. They sit around a hodgepodge of tables in a mishmash of furniture—nothing matches anything else, and no two chairs are the same.

The woman from your dream catches your eyes. She stares at you with open shock. “Well,” she says, as a number of males turn to her with withering looks. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She smiles at you. “Welcome to Draega, Stranger. Please, join us.”

Join them at the table and have your breakfast, Stranger. There isn’t much to offer: porridge, water, a bit of milk, some wrinkled fruits, and bread. Coffee, thankfully, is not in short supply. Meet your fellow Strangers, both the ones choosing to live at the Queen’s Residence and those who arrived in the night with you.

As breakfast draws to a close, the Queen’s Steward, Prince Loren Sorey, explains that you may choose to find your own home or stay in the residence for as long as you please. Those who stay will receive a modest stipend but are required to participate in Allairavar’s morning trainings every day. At dawn. Before breakfast. Those who go will need to find their own homes among the ruined buildings of the city and make their own money.

The court begins filtering out of the Great Hall, dispersing to attend their many duties. Linger, Stranger, and overhear…

“What did you mean?” The man leaning over the Queen is Prince Allairavar. His membranous wings flare around him, and his expression is menacing. “This wasn’t supposed to happen?”

Queen Fayura doesn’t look at all alarmed by the massive man caging her against a wall. “It was a one-time spell,” she says. “The web was—” Her eyes go wide. “I need to go look at the web.” She ducks under Allairavar’s arm, which could put a tree trunk to shame, really, grabs Prince Verim, and drags him from the hall.

Allairavar bares his teeth at the wall and snarls. The sound rumbles through the room, and dark temper washes briefly through the residence before all the tangled webs tucked in corners absorb it, leaving the building peaceful and clean of psychic feeling once more.

A TALE OF TWO IDEALS
At exactly 5:46pm, an explosion rocks the city of Draega. Black clouds belch fire to the northwest of the city. Concurrently, in Old Town, a mob of landens armed with Breakers and Muters descends on The Last Meal. They surround an older, Blood woman.

i. Black Out
The power plant maintained by the Tinkers and the Elektrics has exploded. Across Draega, e-line appliances shut down and the city plunges into darkness—the sun set some 45 minutes ago.

Prince Loren reaches out to approximately half the Strangers, asking them to go to the power plant. He shares a mental map with them so they know how to reach the building, as well as the Craft used for air-walking. The tutorial is quick and hardly complete, but now you’ll be able to run above the city to reach your destination.

The power plant burns. Black smoke pours into the air. Master Elektric Doriah organizes the Tinkers and Elektrics who were able to escape on their own. A quick glance reveals how absolutely exhausted she is. When Strangers approach, she sneers but isn’t about to turn away good help.

“There are still people inside. The Blood who did this trapped us in shields.” She hesitates only a moment before collecting Breakers from guildmembers carrying them. “Take these. Your Jewel may not be able to break through the shields.”

Inside, well-ordered building is a mess of fire and melting steel. Airwalking protects your feet, and shields can keep out the heat, but you’ll need something more to protect your lungs. Put out fires, stop systems from overloading, save the machines from complete destruction, and rescue missing workers who are suffocating and cooking inside shields. The guildmembers trapped in the power plant will assist the Strangers who free them, helping mitigate the damage done to the plant and keep it from exploding the rest of the way.

ii. Death of a Councilwoman
Councilwoman Vera enjoys dinners at The Last Meal, and this is well known by everyone in the city. Today, public knowledge of her schedule doesn’t work so well in her favor.

As she approaches the restaurant with her family, a group of landens descends on them. Muters prevent the Blood from taking any action that isn’t purely physical, and this is enough to throw most of them off their stride; they’re used to relying on Craft to fight. The landens separate Vera from her family in a short-lived brawl. She shouts and screams—“Let me go! Don’t you know who I am? The Queen will have you executed for this! Your families will be thrown out of the city! You’re making a mis—”

A shot rings through the air.

The landens peel away from one of their own, a young man gripping a Breaker in both hands. He trembles as he stands over Councilwoman Vera, whose expression is frozen forever in shocked disbelief. Her body crumples to the ground, blood from a gunshot wound on her chest staining the white fabric of her blouse.

In the silence that follows the shot, Allairavar shoves free of the crowd. “Go home!” he snarled, Craft powering his voice.

No one moves.

Except the young landen man. He takes off at a run, and the crowd is still too horrified to do much to stop him. Allairavar wastes no time. He plunges after the young man. At the same time, he reaches out to the minds of the Strangers closest to Old Town. *The Ebon Council is, collectively, a sack of reeking shit, and Lady Vera was a bitch,* Allairavar tells the Strangers. *But if we don’t get between the Blood and the landens, we’ll have another war. We can’t afford another war. Keep them from killing each other while I deal with this idiot.*

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you’re spinning the dial on your own device, you’ll hear…

the news
…angered local landen families by her hard-line position that Blood homes should receive priority as the city continues to recover from the fires set by the Hunter Guild last month. [The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.]

Councilwoman Vera is known for her vocal disdain for the landen Guilds, isn’t that right, Garret? [Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.]

[Garret:] Correct, Wilt. She—excuse the interruption, but we are just now hearing— [The feed abruptly cuts off. Static pours from the Far-caster regardless of what local channel it is tuned to.]

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[Unfortunately for Daylight, all this Au Ra saw emerging from the smoke was what he assumed automatically to be something hostile with large, heavy steps only reminding him of the Magitek Vanguards of his home. Even worse once Takame sees him come out from the smoke armed.

He registered Daylight immediately as an enemy about to bring harm to people already fighting for their lives, causing him to quick draw his blade and charge forward at the assumed threat.

His inhibited Gyoten was a blessing for Daylight, for it's only due to the limited range Takame could reach that he wasn't just relieved of his leg. Not for lack of trying as he still raised his blade for a downward slice to close that distance. It was only then that he saw the raised hand signaling an ally as well as sensed the Jewel he possessed.]

... What? [Of course it had yet to fully click so he didn't lower his weapon.]

[Takame was only tangentially aware of anyone else near him, never drop guard and all that. So Mordred did not catch him by surprise in his daze necessarily. What did was the fact that she was able to hear him, not noticing that he had been thinking aloud.

It wasn't a hidden thought by any means, not that it would make a difference. He wouldn't stay silent when being referred to. His gaze shifted to his new conversation partner.]

Lady Fauyra. She said this wasn't supposed to happen. [The he looked back to where Fayura exited with a furrowed brow.] And there are more people here.

[Or: the first time Emil notices Alex looking into trash cans for who knows what, he's too surprised to say anything to her— and maybe that would be strange? "Hi, remember me, weird few days we're having haha why are you digging in the garbage???"

Somehow, he thinks it wouldn't go over well. So, instead, he resolves to be prepared the next time! Which actually means that the following day he packs some extra breakfast into a little makeshift lunchbox made out of folded napkins and goes out to try and find Alex a second time. But like, casually.

This time, he clears his throat to announce his presence, and then puts on airs like he's very surprised to have run into her here!! Whoa!

But when it comes time to, like, say something...]

Ah— hey!

[incredible 10/10]

[Why is he glowing!! Is Emil going insane or is that really happening?! There are so many questions and so few answers with this boy, apparently, every time. 2 for 2, at least.

Buuut they can address that later, because it's time to hit stuff. That's soooo... Well, Emil can't judge, because he was doing the same thing but it sounds ridiculous out loud.]

Let's... do that, then? [Fed up with their dawdling, the captive inside the shield bangs on it from the inside, impatient.] —Yes, we know!!

[He gives Leo a Look, as if to say it's now or never?]

[ Hate to break it to you, Emil, but not really. ]

Then it was a stupid question.

[ Because Haein totally subscribes to the idea that there are stupid questions, and he just got to witness one. ]

You wasted your time, my time, and their time.

[ The good thing about having been here for a month is that Haein has really been working on Craft, and one of the things he's been practicing has been creating shields. Ever since the Queen had given him that lesson on the training field, he's been spending a lot of time honing the ability.

It probably wasn't meant for blocking milk, but that's what it's being used for. Haein lifts an arm and manages to pull up a quick shield, taking most of the splash damage. Too bad he does look like a total idiot on the table, and he realizes it when he catches the stares of the people around them.

Haein doesn't do well with attention, and this is mortifying. He'd been too caught up in the moment, anger making him careless, and he quickly scrambles off the table, not having to be told twice by the footman. What's he supposed to do now? Leave?? So then people can whisper about him once he's gone? Nope, no. Can't do that. He'll just settle down in his seat and glare at Lalli in return... before flicking his finger to telekinetically shove the chair Lalli's hiding behind back against him.

Hey, he hated using his powers back home, but he's starting to get accustomed to it here. Good for him. ]

As soon as his wrist is released from its hold, Haein hurriedly takes a few steps back to lengthen the distance between them. He narrows his eyes when he sees Jonathan do something similar, taking account of the fear reflected in the other man's own eyes. That's not exactly the reaction he had been expecting, and the apology comes as a slight surprise as well.

His surprise multiplies even more when Jonathan suddenly disappears, then reappears with... a rat? Haein openly stares, transfixed on the image of the bloodied man with a rat in his hands. He has a good idea of what's about to happen, and while the thought and idea disgusts him, he's left morbidly fascinated and curious. He doesn't move, rooted to the spot as he looks on.

[ He still has no idea what to make of Daylight and his more than strange appearance. A giant talking robot? That in no way existed where Haein came from. Not in real life anyway. But he's met plenty of odd people here, hasn't he? This one is just... a lot harder to wrap his head around.

At least the questions he asks allow for some sort of distraction and snaps Haein back to the situation currently at hand. He nods jerkily, pulling his gaze away from Daylight with some added effort, to look in the direction of the disgruntled people milled around them. ]

Shot, yeah.

[ He doesn't know the exact details of how it went down, or who she was other than someone important, but... ]

She's dead.

He hates that it's come to this and hates even more that someone can see him like this. Even turning away to hide what he's doing, Jonathan is well aware of the grisly sounds in the air, fortunately masked by the fighting behind them and the other attempts to put a stop to it but clear enough to anyone who might know what's going on. He feels like an animal himself, hunched over his meal and shuddering at the foul taste yet still draining every drop. Once it's done, he lets the remains fall to the ground and rises slowly, leaning his head against the wall and glancing back.

He's surprised to see Haein still there and it shows in his expression, although at least now with the distance and the very small meal he's controlled enough to simply stay where he is.

"Why haven't you run?"

[Jonathan shakes his head, angry and frustrated and hungry and very much tempted to simply bite the man and be done with it.]

It won't kill me. Believe me, I tried.

[He doesn't believe that hand-to-hand will ever be enough to stop him if he truly cannot control himself, but Peter is already moving away and Jonathan has to admit he has a point. Getting away from the crowd and the temptation... perhaps if he's lucky he won't need to try and test himself now.]

Fine. Lead the way but... slowly. I have to focus.

"Likewise," Jonathan answered, and while it wouldn't have been a lie under normal circumstances, now it was even more truthful. What he needed was distraction, and Takame with his clearly unusual physiology was precisely that.

"Would you mind telling me what manner of creature you are?" he asked. "You appear human but for those dermal growths... or are they deeper? Muscle or bone, perhaps?"

[It's only a short turn around the next alley and they're pretty far from the crowd. There's the remains of an old storage space of some kind, maybe a stable, or somewhere dry goods were kept. There's still scattered hay on the ground. An ugly place, but out of the way. Slightly blocked on the odd chance someone comes down the alley for some reason.

I'll tell if you if I'm starting to feel faint. It'll take longer for me than someone else, so you should be able to get more blood.

[Peter pushes past a crude wooden door barely still on its hinges, then sits on an abandoned sack of some kind of meal. There's another sack next to it so Jonathan has someone to sit. He takes off a strange red wrist cuff with a prong that sticks out into his palm and pockets it in his wool coat.]

If it comes to a fight, it comes to a fight, but it'll be worth it to take the edge off so you're not this desperate.

[Then he rolls up his sleeve, tapping his skin to find a good vein.]

[He's still hesitant as he follows Peter, but his hunger makes it hard to simply leave, no matter how much Jonathan curses himself for his weakness. Despite the other man's reluctance, Jonathan deliberately places the pistol within arm's reach and gives him a look. He might not want to use it, but he's well aware it could come down to that and he would rather it be there than not.

That done, he circles around Peter towards the other side of him, suddenly feeling awkward, his mouth dry with the realisation of what he is about to do. It feels wrong, too trusting for what he is, and part of him still wants to shake Peter until he realises what a fool he's being.

But another, darker part doesn't want him to change his mind until it's too late, and as he kneels and reaches for the other man's wrist, Jonathan has to wonder if this is how Sean felt when he had forced the man to drink his blood and if this is some punishment.

Though as soon as he can see the bright and pulsing lines just under the surface of Peter's skin, the thought is forgotten. The hunger rises to the surface and Jonathan leans in and bites. His fangs sink into flesh so easily and immediately there's that addictive, rich taste on his tongue and heat rushing down his throat. His earlier concerns are gone as he swallows again and again, instincts taking over and driving him to feed until sated or the body had nothing else to give, whichever came first.]

Edited 2019-02-24 11:20 (UTC)

Gnnnnh! Wow that hurts.

[A lot of vampire movies make getting bit by a vampire look sexy, even if the victim is dying. It is decidedly not sexy. It really hurts exactly as much as you'd expect a bite that breaks the skin and digs into your veins to hurt, and Peter's natural instinct towards someone jamming fangs into his arm and keeping them in the wound is to try to shake them off.]

[(He's been bit by more creatures and sometimes people than any person should be in their life.)]

[He has to fight his instincts to fight back, and he has to keep paying attention to how he's feeling as Jonathan feeds, which isn't exactly easy when he has no equipment to do it with and no way to measure how much he's drinking. With a smaller vein, it's fortunately not easy for Jonathan to drain him dry quickly, and even though it hurts, it's a relatively minor wound to heal. Veins don't bleed out the way arteries do, less hydrostatic pressure.]

You're going to find my blood probably has a slight radioactive tang. It shouldn't hurt you, even though you're probably a different kind of vampire than the one I knew. It actually made him less hungry if he fed off me.

[He grounds his feet, keeps himself bolt upright (so dizziness becomes apparent sooner) and presses the fingers of his free hand against his neck to keep an eye on his pulse. He tries to breathe deep so the pain and stress of something weird and unnatural happening to him doesn't cause his pulse or breathing to be heightened and skew his judgment of whether it's from blood loss or not.]

[Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Nothing unusual going on here, just a grown man clamped onto his arm like an over-sized lamprey, sucking his radioactive people juice out.]

[He'll know when it's getting too much, he's dealt with dangerous levels of blood loss before: faster heartbeat, feeling faint, sweating, cold skin.]

[(God, it's so weird and gross having someone's mouth clamped on his arm.)]

[But he's pretty sure Jonathan is probably having a worse time of it than him. The hunger has to be painful and miserable. The lack of dignity that comes with that kind of desperation has to be degrading. His fear of harming others is obvious. That's why it's better to risk doing this than letting it go until something catastrophic happens - because it'd hurt both the doc and whoever his victim was.]

[After he's a little less desperate, maybe he can figure out a better long-term solution than whatever he's been doing before now.]

[The blood isn't flowing fast enough for his hunger, and a rumble sounded at the back of his throat as Jonathan drew back and bit down again, higher up this time, seeking out a thicker vein and pulling more from that. His whole body feels alive with warmth and pleasure again, like he hasn't felt in months, and he blindly shoves the sleeve up further to expose more of his willing prey's arm.

He couldn't keep track of how long it's been if he tried; every sense is narrowed in on sating his hunger and nothing more, and it becomes clear that he has no intention of stopping before then.]

Gah! Hey hey, easy! I agreed to feed you, I didn't agree to you chewing up my whole arm.

[This is rapidly disintegrating into not good, but he knew this was a risk. So he just has to manage it. His hand goes back to his throat, he breathes in and out, tries to keep his pulse normal. But the new vein is letting him bleed faster, and that means he loses a lot of blood, more quickly.]

[His pulse starts getting quicker, his skin gets clammy, he can hear his heartbeat started to pound in his head. He starts to get dizzy. It has to be maybe three pints that he's lost now, with him sucking away at the bigger vein. He'd like to give more, like to push it all the way to whatever he can safely give but part of the safety here involves being able to fight him off, if necessary.]

Okay, I'm going to have to cut you off.

[He starts by flicking at Jonathan's temple, a very irritating thing to do to someone, the kind of thing that makes them flinch. It doesn't hurt that his super strength means he can make it hurt worse than if a normal person was doing it.]

[Henry looks to the young woman, then dips his head in brief greeting.]

I did. Last month.

[He grimaces as he looks down at his half-eaten bowl of porridge.]

I fear they grow impatient with us already.

[Henry huffs in annoyance at being bumped into, but as a knight, he does not let it get in the way of doing what is right. He understands the urgency, and so follows with all haste. From beneath his own facecloth he all but demands:]

See you someone?

[Smaller in stature and eyes beginning to sting, he's not yet spotted the trapped group.]

Hmm, yes, you're not entirely wrong there. I feel as if we had a specific task assigned to us we might feel less aimless. Still, I endeavor to try and help wherever my skill allows me. I may be limited, naturally.

( Sansa lifts her hands and smiles a bit. )

Soft hands, you see. Quite the hindrance.

( He is someone who came here a moon before, someone who has weeks of experience with the Blood and with being in this Court. This could be valuable and Sansa inclines her ear to him, wanting to listen. )

Already? But we've only just arrived, truly. That's not enough time to effect any real change in relations - it takes time for two parties with grievance to suddenly mend fences.

[For a while, it had been going fairly well. For a while, there had been something of a rhythm to the process, not wholly automatic but close enough to instinctual. There's a familiar sense of purpose that drags Horatio's body along, ignoring pain and exhaustion and the million little protests which must by now be rattling through his nerves.

Now, it's... going decidedly less well.

Horatio isn't entirely sure where he took the wrong turning in the smoke and flame, or when he lost track of the man he had been plunging into the chaos with after the long run over dizzying heights. He isn't at all sure how many flames he had padded off his own arms and legs as he stumbled, or how often the fabric had fallen from his lips to let in lungfuls of dense smoke.

Thank goodness, as he stumbles now, he hears a voice--and sees, miraculously, something like a break in the fire. That's something to drag himself toward, coughing rather than calling in response. That's close enough, surely?]

[ oh hey wait! if you're going to rescue someone or die horribly in the attempt to rescue someone, make sure you have a partner at the very least!!

daylight hurries after the guy, making sure to jog ahead to push fallen beams and crumbling ways so they're not an obstacle for him. it causes more smoke and dust to be belched out into the night, stinging poor daylight's optics in the process, but there's that saying with eggs and omelette and cracking.

by the time they reach the source of the screaming, it's clear they've gotten there just in time - the pair inside flickering shield are struggling to hang on.

judging by their clothes and their age, the man and the woman in the shield are the line managers. the man is leaning against the shield, clutching at his throats, while the woman tries to keep her wild eyes on daylight and emil and her companion. ]

We're here to help! Don't worry- We'll get you out of there soon as we can! [ after he says that, he turns to his new partner and looks very lost. ] So- What do you want to do?

[Ren's eyes flick to the Sapphire jewels, and concealed under the mask, his jaw tightens a bit. Regardless of how different this world is to his own, the thing that's set him at unease most so far is the concept of a rigid and immutable power system that he can't really do anything about his relatively unimpressive position in. But it's definitely not something that needs to be discussed, least of all now, so he gestures Rhus forward and steps aside so he has enough space to wield his impressive sword.]

Go ahead. The faster one of us breaks them out, the faster they can get help. And I'm afraid I'm lacking a little in experience here.

[There's something a tinge humourous to Ren's tone on that last remark that says he's trying to keep the mood relatively light despite the situation, but it's grounded enough to make it clear he's aware of how vital time is to the survival of these people right now. He's trying to focus any potential bitterness about his lack of experience and how that's going to impact how much he can help into getting this done.]

[Ren's halfway to scenting his coffee to check the quality of it when he notices how much milk Piper is adding, and tilts his head a little. The way his hair moves is a little odd - it seems that despite how much of it is sticking out here and there, it's otherwise smooth and untangled.] Doesn't that ruin it a bit...?

[In any case, any coffee that isn't instant coffee is at least mostly welcome in his book, even if it's not peak quality, so he takes a sip of his own a moment later, looking at Piper herself for a moment. There's something...eye-catching about her, to be sure, and Ren makes note of it as he continues in his somewhat absent-minded tone.] So did you just get here, or have you been here longer?

No, but- [ he shrugs. he somehow manages to make the motion cheerful, perhaps helped by how his winglets wiggle while he talks. ] I'm not surprised they don't have anything yet. Not a lot of folks are prepared to for a hybrid like me when I drop by.

[ emphasis on 'drop by' because daylight plans to leave the residence soon as he can. the second he first heard of grumblings about too many strangers here, he knew he was going to try and help out by getting his own place.

somehow. someway. maybe one of those guilds that's been talked about will take him in... but anyways! back on topic- ]

For now? I'm gonna deal with only eating the porridge here. It should be safe enough for my filters. [ well- he has to hope that the stuff is safe enough for his filters. last thing he wants to do is figure out how to remove the gunk by himself when meddy isn't around. ] And I guess if that fails- There's water! Water's good for anyone.

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event: a gentle explosion

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"oh my what a surprising coincidence" the food-delivery thread

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tw: for vampire snacking

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