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

[unwieldy]

[ You know, surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) this is the second time someone has thrown bread at his head here. Haein really should work on his reflexes so he can avoid these projectiles some day, but for now, he takes the bread to the head.

And boy, does he look pissed.

Why waste words indeed. Haein picks up his bowl of half-eaten porridge and, well. Lunges forward across the table with it in hand to try and dump it on Lalli's head. ]

[ilves]

[Lalli's reflexes send him leeeeeeaning back, but while he's quick enough to avoid wearing that bowl like a hat, he isn't quick enough to prevent all of the sludge... from falling right into his lap. Damn! That's gross!

On the plus side, however—Haein is now sprawled atop the table like an absolute idiot? The people nearest to them are either a) gasping or b) hurrying away, which is why no one even attempts to stop Lalli from grabbing his neighbor's cup of milk and slinging its contents Haein's way. Take that, you fiend... and watch Lalli, like, leap to his feet to duck behind his chair.

Meanwhile, someone—a footman leading another newcomer down to breakfast?—spots this incredibly mature display and orders them to STOP. ...PLEASE! All while Lalli glares at his opponent and waits for his next move. If he were a cat, his tail would be twitching.]

[unwieldy]

[ 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. ]

[ilves]

[A barrier? A magical, milk-stopping barrier?? Oh, that's cheating—even though it is somewhat impressive. Lalli makes a quick mental note: find out more about this Craft nonsense ASAP. ...Also, find a) a rat and b) where this person sleeps.

But all of this mental-note-taking means that he is, of course, wholly unprepared for his stupid chair to bump right back against him! And it's not even a gentle bump; it hits him with enough force to make him, like, stumble back a step or two, much to the amusement of a handful of onlookers. Ugh! Ugh.

Leaving, however, is also out of the question for Lalli. ...For the time being, anyway. He keeps his eyes trained on his new archenemy as he slides his chair back toward the table and drops into it, but instead of throwing out some clever insult... or attempting to use this Craft of his...]

Pssh.

[Did he just... hiss? Maybe so, Haein. Maybe so.]

[unwieldy]

[ Uh???

How the heck is he supposed to respond to that... hissing? Haein squints, his expression kind of confused and also mildly embarrassed for Lalli, because that's weird, dude. It's as if their food fight from just moments before hadn't been a total chaotic disaster, and this is what takes the Too Much To Handle cake for Haein. ]

What's wrong with you?

[ Don't do that again!! ]

[ilves]

[Hissing at people you Do Not Like is perfectly normal behavior? Or, more accurately: no one's ever told Lalli that it isn't, so here he is, completely unconcerned about what Haein thinks as he reaches out to snag one of his neighbor's shriveled apples. They ran away? They don't deserve them.]

Hn. [A noise of PURE ANNOYANCE as he pettily avoids looking at the person... sitting right in front of him.] Don't talk to me.

[Or so help him, he will... definitely hiss again...]

[unwieldy]

[ Telling Haein not to do something is a really great way of getting him to do it. Especially when the demand comes from someone on his shit list.

But okay, he looks a bit contemplative at first. Maybe he's thinking it over, potentially weighing the pros and cons of actually listening and not talking back, or maybe he's thinking yeah, this might be a good place to finish what they'd started.

Ha, as if. ]

Don't tell me what to do.

[ilves]

[Um, don't tell him what to do, you punk?? A more mature individual would choose to ignore that entirely, but... well, they've both proven how mature they really are; there shouldn't be anything surprising about Lalli looking back up at Haein—only to, you know, place both hands snugly over his ears. What? Is he saying something? Lalli doesn't know, because Lalli suddenly can't hear.]

Psh.

[That's cat for GO AWAY.]

[unwieldy]

[ What the frick... Why did that noise happen again? Now that Haein's heard it a second time, it sounds like an animal's hiss.

This is like sitting at the lunch table with the weird kid from school, the one that pretends to be a wolf and yips at the moon or something. Whatever it is, it's becoming a bit unsettling, and Haein is left staring blankly at Lalli for a moment before sliding his chair back to stand. He rests one hand on the table while the other reaches for the abandoned bowl of porridge next to him.

Stop these noises 2k19. ]

Are you saying I should dump more porridge on you?

[ilves]

[Lalli is catkin, pass it on. Anyway: He continues glaring at Haein, eyes sliding over to that dumb bowl of porridge before coming right back to rest on Haein's dumb face. No, he definitely does not want to become any messier than he already is, but—well, it's not like he can just let this go? That would be the mature thing to do.

So he removes one hand from his ear... just to, you know, reach down to grab one of the apples he's just scavenged. He knows that Haein can just throw up another one of those fancy magical shields, but maybe if he's exceptionally fast...

...Yeah, it's officially a Cold War, something that Lalli drives home by further narrowing his eyes. Who's going to launch the first nuke...]

[agentlenpc]

[During this little exchange, the room around them had gone quite quiet. Not deathly still, there were still low murmurs of conversation, but the room stilled at the change. Or perhaps a different change.]

More porridge?

[As he walks to them, Loren's voice is deceptively even, his... assessment... at the situation reflected in the cooling temperature around him, his temper running cold.]

Now... [You get the sense he wants to say Now children.] We don't dump food. If there is food not eaten then it would go to someone else for breakfast who hasn't had any. [Hungry city, remember?] And then after that, to those in the Circle who could use more because of their darker jewel. [People who could kill without a single hesitation, remember them?

He glances first at Haein, then Lalli, then at the porridge. With the barest wave of his hand, Loren vanishes the porridge bowl away and it's gone. He looks at the apple, before back at the two of them.] I trust the apple will be eaten?

[unwieldy]

[ Good job, Lalli, look what you've done!!

As much as Haein doesn't want to tear his glare away from Lalli (because that would feel like losing), he turns to look as Loren approaches. He at least has the decency to feel a bit silly at being caught, shame starting to burn the tips of his ears red, but he still has a stubborn set to his jaw and deviance in his eyes.

The bowl being disappeared from his hold startles most of that out of him. He looks down to where it had been, then back at Loren with a small scowl, before turning to Lalli. ]

Yeah, [ he mutters scornfully. ] Eat it.

[ilves]

[Well, it doesn't take a socially savvy genius to know that the person addressing them is... someone important? Someone powerful. It's not enough to make Lalli feel embarrassed about being caught, uh, red-handed, but it is enough for him to blink up at this very intense stranger, uncover his other ear, and actually listen to what he has to say. No dumping food? Aha. He can... manage that, he supposes, and his eyes instinctively slide back over Haein's way to catch his reaction.

Hrmh. Lalli's not stupid enough to throw the apple he's still holding, but he's certainly not about to eat it after that; instead, he leans over and drops it back onto his (long-since-departed) neighbor's plate.]

...I don't want it.

[Petty, but at least he's not, like... reaching for anything else as he chances a glance back Loren's way.]

[agentlenpc]

[Like the porridge bowl before, Loren vanishes the apple without breaking eye contact with Lalli.]

Then I'm sure I can find someone who would appreciate an unexpected addition to their meal. I hope two [He surveys both of them, as if memorizing their faces and making mental notes] will enjoy the rest of your breakfast.

[With that, Loren continues on his way, the temperature in the room warming as his dour mood wanes.]

[unwieldy]

[ There's still an uneasy edge to Haein as he watches Lalli drop the apple, but then he feels eyes on him and when he turns to look, sees Loren survey them in a way that prickles at his skin uncomfortably.

No thanks at having his face memorized. So much for flying under the radar... Rather than blame himself for it, he channels all his anger at their situation toward Lalli, whipping back around to glare at him with everything he has once Loren departs. ]

You did this.

[ Just had to start it by dumping that coffee back into the carafe, huh!! Buddy!! Well, Haein is just gonna angrily gather his things so he can storm out of there. ]