event: a gentle explosion

[thestewards]

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.]

Comments

strangers in a strange land

[kesi]

Had Takame really wanted to pry into this odd, semi-nocturnal man's affairs he would have done so from the start. And yet still in the back of his mind something about the man screamed at him to stay alert since he made note of the peculiar schedule he preferred. Few with good intent did their business in the dead of night in his experience. Something looked unstable about him. Though that may be because he just looked in severe need of a healer. Or larger portions. That was what Takame deduced as he sized up the man with a full body scan, watching with crossed arms as he rolled his cigarette.

The Au Ra did not respond immediately, but he continued to stare wondering what about this sickly looking man set him on edge. After a brief silence, Takame simply shook his head.

"No." It was a plain response for someone who spent enough time staring that they should have had something more interesting to say or ask. In the back of his mind he wondered if Jonathan should be smoking at all, but he did not ask it aloud, instead choosing to redirect that into something he assumed to be less invasive.

"... Should you not eat first? You look as though you haven't in days." He meant no offense merely stating a fact, but ever did his monotone lend any genuine nature of his words to ambiguity.

[championbittersweet]

Jonathan shrugged and tucked the packet away again, although he continued to watch the strange looking man curiously as he put the cigarette to his lips and reached into his coat for the box of matches he kept there.

The remark about his appearance earned a dry laugh as he struck a match and Jonathan took a moment to make sure the tip was lit before he answered. "I have fed." It's not a particularly reassuring way of saying it, but right now the dark humour feels appropriate.

"I don't believe we've met," he adds, exhaling smoke before offering his hand. "Dr Jonathan Reid."

[kesi]

Takame did not believe him in the least. If he had eaten, he would not look in such a terrible condition. He had no real reason to police another's health or choices, but what Takame read as a lie combined with that particular choice of words used did nothing to reassure him. All that would indicate his unease was a minor pursing of his lips and a barely audible quick exhale through his nose. If nothing else, this man was clearly unwell.

"Your appearance leads me to believe otherwise." Regardless, he took Jonathan's hand, at least aware of this custom, and gave it a single shake.

"Takame Kesi." He paused briefly after taking his hand feeling a more staggering difference in their body temperatures than normal, but he continued nonchalantly. "A pleasure to meet you."

[championbittersweet]

"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?"

[kesi]

It was a script to him at this point explaining what he was. From the Far East to Eorzea and to Draega. The question would have seemed odd had Takame not been used to it by now, but he will explain it as many times as need be.

"I am an Au Ra. My people hail from far to the east, the continent of Othard." A short pause, realizing that locations he was used to meant little in this realm. But he continued either way, making a slight correction to Jonathan's conjecture.

"Scales, actually." He lifted his hand, giving a clearer view of the scales at the back of it. "Though we have no relation to dragons." He added almost as an afterthought, but an important one as common as the misunderstanding was.

[championbittersweet]

"I didn't think that there was a relationship," Jonathan remarks, looking somewhat surprised at the stipulation and wondering if he should ask if there was a reason anyone would think that.

"Scales are unusual... is it common where you're from? Does everyone have them? What purpose do they serve?"

[kesi]

"Many do." Both here and when he traveled to Eorzea. If he weren't a patient person eager to please most he would sound more exacerbated at the frequency. But so long as Jonathan presented himself cordially Takame would give the same treatment.

"Among my people they are common, but not among others. We Au Ra are the only ones to have scales like this." He pauses when asked about the scales' purpose, unsure of how to answer. If Jonathan had a keen eye he would see the more noticeable sway of something from behind Takame, that being his tail.

"I... confess that I've not given much mind to what purpose they serve." He sounded genuinely bewildered, he'd had them all his life after all.