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

[thedarkbond]

[Well, that's some excellent timing. Ren's head turns rather sharply at the sound, though he gives a not-quite-apologetic smile at Molly's question.]

I don't really run into this sort of thing enough to tell the difference, unfortunately... [Still, it's better than nothing at all, and he ultimately gives a shrug.] Well, if it's a dead end we can always try bringing them back this way, and if it's not then they might know the way out. So it's probably best to check it out.

[mollymocked]

[The oppressive heat intensifies and Molly finds it hurts to breathe. The person on his shoulder whimpers pitifully, and Molly feels deeply like they're running rampantly out of options.]

Onwards and outwards, then. We'll see how it goes. Just... Let me get in front. [He shuffles until he's provided a protective blockade between Ren and the mysteries of what lies ahead.] I can tolerate the heat a lot better... Be kind of a buffer.

[For a little while, anyway.

The yelling is getting louder and more coherent- some of it is panicked screaming and names being yelled as people try to account for the missing and are pulled back by other Strangers. There's a light at the end of the tunnel- a literal light- where the doors to the plant have been thrown open and various weaker-Jeweled Blood are trying to keep people from frantically running back in.]

[thedarkbond]

[Ren frowns slightly at that, like he might be about to argue, and he could point out that that somewhat contradicts what he'd said earlier about being bad with heat, but...well, if he can resist it better, Ren can't really effectively argue. He's no more resilient to heat than any other human, and the only reason he's lasted this long is courtesy of having his own shield up over the skin.

So he lets Molly take the lead for the moment, though judging by the light and sound that's getting clearer and clearer as they approach, they won't have to worry too much.] Oh, that looks like the same people who've been at the entrance the whole time...I guess we were going the right way after all.

[He lets out a short breath of relief at that - this kind of trying physical exertion isn't his area, certainly.]

[mollymocked]

[Molly picks up a sudden burst of speed at the feeling of freedom so close at hand, while still glancing back to make sure he doesn't lose his partner in the shuffle. By the time he crosses the threshold and staggers out, it's like he can't even remember what air not saturated with heat and smoke tastes like and he gasps in shock and elation as someone pulls the terrified landen he's supporting into their arms. All he can hear are relieved and happy cries as he drops to his knees and coughs.]

Fuck. That was a lot. I am never doing that again.

[But he probably will, because people getting hurt like that chafes him, but really maybe the people picking fights will stop favoring fire. He takes one more deep breath and turns to see what became of his fellow Stranger.] You all right? That could've gone so much worse.

[thedarkbond]

[Ren isn't exactly running, but he does pick up the pace a bit if only for the sake of the person he's carrying. He hands them off to one of the many people gathered around the door and aiding the rescued as soon as he gets out, and then promptly walks up next to Molly and flops somewhat overdramatically onto his side on the ground, pulling his coat down from over his face and taking a deep breath. It's almost bone dry again, despite him having gone in with it damp.

He gives a faint hum of assent to Molly's question, though his throat is a little rough and it ends up making him cough instead.] I'm okay, I think...just tired. I don't really do this sort of thing enough to be used to putting out that much effort...

[He tries to clear his throat slightly, putting a few fingers against his mouth in case he coughs again.] What about you?

[mollymocked]

[Molly has just decided that laying down is the best possible option and drops like a sack of potatoes onto his back, embracing the feel of cool grass and a little bit of uncomfortable gravel. Well worth it, though.]

I feel like you could fry an egg on my chest if you were so inclined, but otherwise... Superficial damage- emotional and physical. I'll be fine.

[thedarkbond]

[That is about all the time Ren is willing to keep his head up for, so it flops back onto the grass once Molly confirms he's okay.] Mmm, that's good, then...remind me how much I didn't like this if we ever find out who was behind it...

[Not that he'll probably need reminding, but it'd be a very good excuse to pick apart somebody who deserved it for putting him through the experience.]

[mollymocked]

If you're going to kill somebody over this, just invite me. I've been particularly murderous since I've gotten here, and it just never goes away. Fucking irritating.

[It doesn't really help that Draega finds new ways to irritate him. He overall likes it, but this constant class war makes the Empire look sane. At least you could leave the big cities and find places that weren't escalating into turf wars.]

[thedarkbond]

That's not really my style, but I can probably think of something interesting to do... [Psychological torture is more his speed, and he can't say they wouldn't deserve it after all this. Ren sighs and rolls over onto one side, so he can cough out onto the grass without feeling like there's just more going back into his throat.]

I might need to know your name to invite you, though.

[mollymocked]

Mollymauk. Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends. [He rolls over so that he's face down in the cool grass. Oh, that's nice.] And what a pleasure it is to meet you, despite the circumstances. [He groans pathetically.] I think I'm gonna take a nap right here.

[thedarkbond]

[Well, if he already has a nickname of his own, then Ren clearly doesn't need to give him one.] Suzugamori Ren...but just call me Ren. I guess everyone has to meet in some kind of circumstance...

[Even if it's a terrible, awful circumstance. That said, Ren tilts his head back towards the plant a bit, as if he's considering going back in but just barely reasonable enough to realise that it's a very bad idea right now.] Maybe I'll rest for a little before I have another try.