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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh-!

[ zita is surprised by the appearance of someone else coming into her designated. than she becomes quickly alarmed as she takes in the apparent damage.

not as grievous as the man, yes, but anybody who is hurt will always be a priority for zita. she sets the tools she was using down, ]

Please, sit down. I'll get to you soon as I can. Excuse, Lio, can you come here?

[ she gestures and directs the volunteer to handle the man on the stretcher for now. the young man happens to be from the medico guild and, thus, had no healing craft to immediately treat his wounds. but he should be able to stabilise him long enough for zita to see to this new patient who is in need of care.

with that handled for the time being, zita gathers a clean cloth or two before making her way to the new face. ]

You're not experiencing any nausea, are you? Dizziness? Anything of that sort?

Little dizzy. Probably the smoke.

[That's her guess anyways. She'll think about it a little more while taking a seat. It's not something she's had a ton of experience with oddly enough outside of last month's burning buildings.]

Never really had a problem with this before here.

[It was more open area fighting when she was alive. And Assassin of Black's poison fog, but that was also in open areas. And magic. Being dizzy from normal smoke inhalation is so...normal, and she feels kind of lame for being subject to it.]

[ the fact she's having a lucid and coherent conversation with her patient is a good sign in zita's opinion. it allows her to breathe more easily as she begins to dip the clean towel into a nearby bowl of water, after she made sure the water is warm and sterile.

but she can't rest because of that. remembering what doulas had taught her, she knew she had to be thorough for her patients' sake. ]

I'll get you water to drink after I clean the blood and soot from you, alright? First - I need to make sure there are no wounds on your head.

[ she's about to reach out and begin to clean her face up but she stops herself. ]

... Will you allow me? [ she gestures to the towel in her hand, indicating her desire to help fix her up. ] I'd hate to impose myself on someone and if you're more comfortable cleaning yourself up, I'll be alright with that.

Yeah, that's fine, go ahead.

[It's a little weird for her admittedly. She used to be incredibly guarded about ever showing her face to others, so having somebody clean her up feels like...progress? Sort of? Except it's not like there's anyone around who would make a big deal of it, so is it really a big deal or something to feel weird about? These are things she'd take the time to think about, but she'd rather not.

And while she's trying to not think about things, she'll let Zita wipe her face off. Most of it's not from her, but there's some cuts in there. She's pretty sure it was impossible to navigate that mess unscathed, but her habit of kind of hurling herself at things in combat probably didn't help either.]

Probably not doing myself any favors for escorting you around looking like this, right?

[She figures she should say something, having recognized the voice. If only because it really beats her sitting there thinking about things, she's not a fan of that.]

[ nodding to acknowledge her words, zita begins to gently wipe away the blood and soot on mordred's face. her touch is careful and considerate, light and soft to not aggravate any wounds that she may come across.

while she wipes her up, she does inspect her for any unseen damages. any gashes or cuts hidden under her hair? any signs of developing bruises? she takes them very seriously.

tand he question has zita looking down at mordred, blinking a bit in surprise. she's quick to smile, however, and has a ready reassurance: ]

For what it’s worth, I think it gives you a most ferocious look! Someone who has been into a fight and come out victorious in their own way.

[ zita isn’t good at joking, but she’s trying. ]

I'm merely happy you're in one piece. [ she turns her attention back to the man, now resting after medico lio saw to him. ] I'm worried for him... I don't think my magic will be strong enough to heal some injuries, given that they're fire based.

[As the mess is wiped away, it’ll become clear that there’s definitely at least one gash under her hair. She isn’t making much of it, so it’s either her trying to act like it’s no big deal, or in all the mess she didn’t notice it. There was a lot of stuff going on and she didn’t always have her helmet equipped since it limits vision and didn’t seem like the best idea with all the smoke and other chaos.

But if she’s trying to downplay it, that doesn’t last long as she’ll flinch a little when the cloth touches it.]

Hey, easy with that.

[She feels lame almost immediately after saying that. She’s a former member of the Round Table, and a servant, she’s been hurt worse, so she shouldn’t be flinching and complaining about it. But that’s how things go in jewel land apparently, so she’ll just try to move on with it.]

And…you tried, at least? I mean if you can’t, you can’t. Maybe somebody else can, but trying’s better than not doing anything for him.

[She feels weird talking about the guy when he’s over there, but more weird because she’s actually…trying to be sympathetic? Kind of? It wasn’t that long ago that she wouldn’t have cared or acted like she didn’t care, so this is a little strange for her too.]

[ zita is quick to pull her hands away at both the flinch and at the warning, looking apologetic for not being careful enough when cleaning mordred up.

she gives a quick apology, waiting for a second before she resumes her tending. this time, she takes care to watch out for the gash on mordred's head now now that she knows here it is.

when the question is asked, zita snaps out of her focus on her task to look down at her patient. she blinks a few times, as if making sure she heard what she heard, and then her lips thin from shame. ]

I haven't yet... [ she didn't want to risk harming the man in the process if her healing failed him. but she now she feels bad for not trying now because mordred has a point- better to try than to not try at all. an attempt could be made and isn't that better than nothing...?

but her anxieties of making a mistake worries her too much. ] Do you think I should?

Last thing I want to do is make it worse for him.

If he’s already that bad off, it’s not like you can make it worse…right?

[She’s really not sure, this is probably the most time she’s spent around a healer since while alive, either they died or she did, and with Servants, there’s recovering over time from mana unless one of the other Servants is a jerk and has some sort of anti-healing thing. And even beyond her own experiences, it’s not like she paid too much attention to when other people got hurt. That’s something to work on now, probably. Not that she’s really thinking about that right now.]

I suppose.

[ ... she has a point.

zita finishes cleaning off the blood and the dust and the smoke to the best of her abilities, taking a step back to assess her work. it gives her a chance to also have more room to think about what mordred said.

better to try than not try at all. what's the worse that could happen...

... hrm... perhaps she should not jinx it for the man's sake. ]

I hate to ask so much from you since you came to me for help but- [ she takes a deep breath, making her mind up. ] Could you help me? After I patch you up, I'll heal him though I might need help in keeping him down.

I'll need to my physical contact with the wounds and that will hurt.

You want me to help?!

[It makes sense, sure, but she's still a little surprised (okay more than just a little) because this is not her thing. Never has been. Usually she's sending people to get medical treatment, not helping with it. But there's a first time for everything, and Mordred's not going to say she can't do something. What kind of attitude would that be for a future king to have?]

I mean...yeah, I can help.

[She's got this, just don't pay too much attention to the shakiness in her voice.]

[ sorry mordred but zita notices the hesitation right away. she's more or less attune for those sort of things. you can thank her time as being the mother hen of the carnival and its much younger crowd.

it almost makes her want to take back the request. the last thing she wants to do is put burden on someone else. more so if it's for a delicate situation like this.

but- mordred said yes and zita wants to believe she can trust her. that and zita needs all the hands she can get at this point. the healer from earlier had to run off and help others who needed more hands on deck. looks like it'll be up to them to do something about this. ]

Okay. [ she smiles, her eyes glistening from gratitude. ] Thank you so much.

There's a basin of hot water over there. Please was your hands and make sure it's thorough as you can. [ zita now begins to make her way to the man on the cot, rolling up her sleeves and adjusting her hair to make sure it stays out of her face. ] We're going to have direct contact with his skin, so we want to double the chances of success of the healing spells and avoid causing infections.

Got it.

[Once she's clear, she'll dematerialize her gauntlets and start washing her hands, trying not to think about all the ways she could screw this up. Nope, not doing that. Thoughts of failure aren't appropriate for a future king...probably. She doesn't know with absolute certainty, but she's pretty sure.

But anyways, after doing that, she'll meet Zita over by the patient, not looking anywhere near as confident as she'd like to be, but she's going to help damn it.]

So just hold him down, right?

[She can almost certainly do it if it's just that, she just has to find somewhere that's not too injured to put her hands. She doesn't want to make things worse for this guy or for Zita while she's trying to work.]

Please. That'll be very helpful to me. [ and merciful for the man, who is starting to stir awake from the voices that were near him. he makes a confused sound, a little unsure of how to react when he senses the two women's jewels. zita tries to calm him while kneeling next to him, taking the time to also point out where mordred can place her hands on him.

she now begins to unwind the bandages that hid the worse of the wounds he received from the explosion. zita keeps a straight face when she sees the third degree burns come into view, steeling herself as she sets the bandages away and begins to sterilise first her own hands and the man's wounds. just to be sure. she wasn't going to take chances with this man's life.

when she's sure she's done all she could, zita pulls back and looks over to mordred to give a nod. she has a feeling this is a silly thing to ask but- ] Try to be gentle?

I'll start to heal his injuries now and just touching it will have him reacting.

[Mordred's seen a lot on the battlefield at Camlaan, but even so, she still winces at seeing those burns. She doesn't run away or anything though, placing her hands where Zita said to and focusing on holding the guy down without hurting him. Servants are normally stronger than humans, so she's pretty sure there's not an issue here, but with her jewel, she wants to be extra careful about not accidentally breaking something. Which is a good thing probably since she's showing more care and caution than she probably would otherwise.]

Yeah, got it. I've got him, so go ahead and get started.

[And then because she thinks it's weird to talk around the guy, and she knows she wouldn't like it if somebody was talking around her like she's not there...]

Just try and stay calm, okay? She's trying to help you.

[ the man looks nervous now that he's become more aware of his surroundings but he manages a nod, trying to steel himself for whatever may happen next.

and the man soon hisses and moans in pain when he feels zita press her bare hands down on a limb of his, right over one of his more terrible burns. he can't help and attempt to jerk away from her touch, instincts screaming at him to get away from the source of pain. thankfully - mordred's hold keeps him from getting too far away and minimises the chance of him shaking zita's touch off.

zita looks visibly pained to see how much he's hurting and tries to will her magic to come faster, to heal faster. her hands begin to emit a soft white light and the air around all three changes to something more - potent, perhaps something that could be described as tranquil.

the magic from her jewel enhances her healing, causing the throbbing pain the patient to feel to melt away. he struggles less in mordred's grip, soon relaxing when he feels the magic work its way through him to numb him from the pain better than any medicine could have earlier.

when all is said and done, zita pulls back as she ends her magic to now inspect the injury. the wound is- well, the wound is still there, much to her disappointment, but it is less severe. some flesh has been restored and the burns are more faded, more manageable. ]

Is he okay? Is he still awake?

[Good question, Zita. Mordred was watching her work, so she's really not sure how the patient's doing. So she'll look down and...]

I don't know a lot about healing, but he looks kind of relaxed if you ask me? He's not out of it, but he seems kind of out of it?

[Sure enough, there's a more tranquil relaxed expression on the guy's face, like he's taken in some of that tranquil aura or something to that effect. Mordred doesn't know for sure, but the guy's not dead, the wound's not...as bad and he's not struggling as much, so that's something, right?]

Not like a bad out of it though, I've seen that crap and it doesn't look like this.

[Shock. The word Mordred is looking for is probably shock, but she's not an expert on these things.]

You think he's gonna be okay?

[ ....

looking away and focusing on preparing for the next healing on another bad burn, there's silence on zita's end for a few seconds. most likely her attempt to stall for time while trying to find the right words for her answer. ]

Hopefully. [ that's a start, she thinks. ] I'll need to continue with the worst of his wounds but the fact the healing is taking at all is a good sign.

[ compared in her world, where there would be little to no effect to the man's wounds. zita wonders if this is the power of the jewel or if her magic is somehow stronger now that its' untethered by the laws of her world.

well- she can think about that some other time. for now she looks up at mordred and smiles a grateful smile at her. ]

Thank you for your help, Mordred. [ she sighs and places a hand on her chest. ] And I would like to say I'm sorry for dragging you into this.

You're a patient. I shouldn't be asking a patient of mine aid with another patient.

It's fine, we're here to help right?

[It's no big deal, or at least she's trying to act like it's not. Which might not work with the very obvious sigh of relief that things aren't going to get worse with this guy from here.]

And it's not the worst thing I've been dragged into or had sprung on me.

[There's a few stories here, but Mordred doesn't seem willing to share. She doesn't know anyone around here well enough to start sharing her life story with them and since no one seems to already know it, she'll just continue to not deal with it.]

Never really been on this side of things though, and I've got to say it seems like a hell of a tough job.

[She'd still rather be in the front lines, but she kind of has more appreciation for healers and the like now.]

It’s an exhausting experience, yes, but rewarding one as well. [ she smiles, tilting her head to the side to show she doesn't mind. ] I don't mind the hard work if it means I can support others like you or help others like the man here.

[ she looks at the line manager now, her expression softening into concern. though she knows she won't be able to fully heal them, she hopes she can help make the wounds more bearable. perhaps more likely to be treatable later down the line when someone else takes care of him.

for now - the most she can do is damage control. zita begins to gather her medical supplies and fixes her concerned express firmly on mordred. ]

Please rest while you can. I’ll focus on healing the man’s burns wounds to the best of my abilities but you need to recover your strength.

Do you need healing yourself or will you be fine...?

I'll be...

[Wince. Okay, maybe she's not fine, she's going to say she is, because she's a tough knight and those don't usually need healing or help or anything like that. Unless it's some sort of story where they do and she didn't have any of those. Or any stories or legends either for the most part, just kind of the one.]

...fine.

[She's gritting her teeth a little, sitting back down and trying not to look like she needs help. It's kind of a losing battle here. Like a lot of things, this was a lot easier when she had a Master instead of this jewel thing.]

[ zita has had a literal century to learn when someone is trying to hide something from her. especially when it came to their health.

as she presses her hand against a new burn wound, she addresses mordred with a simple reply: ]

After I see to this man's injuries, I'll see to you too.

[ her voice brooks no argument, though she does her best to keep her voice gentle and assuring. she doesn't want to come off as overbearing but, at the same time, she doesn't want to leave someone behind. ]

We're all in this together. I'll do what I can to help you and the others.

[Mordred's quiet for a while, not really knowing what to do with this. She can probably count the number of times she's been in a situation like this on one hand. And she gets the feeling that trying to bluster and argue her way out of it aren't going to get her anywhere. Which usually doesn't stop her, but instead, she'll just go with it.]

All right, fine.

[And then, a little quieter, but it's still audible, so it counts.]

...thanks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

event: a gentle explosion

it works perfectly! o /

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