Hello and welcome reader, to the 29th installment of the Character Development Threads! These shared story exercises help budding writers develop their characters alongside the characters of other budding writers. No sign-up is needed; just jump right in with your characters. It is recommended that you read the thread page and the last couple of pages before starting.
Discussion Thread
—Thread Page —
Trope Page —
Town Map — Wilderness Map
This is a "Main Series" thread and, as such, an element of risk is expected. Rules and participation guidelines may be found on this page.
The thread page groups active characters under the areas in which they are active, enabling you to see who is at a given location in which you might be interested or to find out where to go to encounter characters with whom you wish to interact.
Kindly add your own characters to the thread page, with a link to their initial post, under the area in which they are located and update the page if they change location.
Bear in mind that if your characters are arriving at a location, they are likely to know little more than what they see and hear as they arrive - what the location looks like, what other characters are there (both of which can be read on the thread page) and the last few lines uttered and actions taken as they are arriving (which can be found in the last few posts for that location in the story thread itself), so inserting characters need not be a terrifying or arduous process. In most cases, they don't need to know more than what you yourself can glean from reading just a few posts.
If you need help, have any questions, or want a quick recap (if the page count is daunting), head over to the discussion page, and someone is sure to help you out!
To help guide character interaction, having your character come in with at least one short-term and one long-term goal or motivation is strongly recommended. It is not required, but it does make it easier to drive the plot forward. Feel free to come up with rumors about what treasures, adventure, locations, and dangers may be found in the setting - they need not be true or accurate, just some hook on which to hang an adventure.
The setting is specifically designed to be a vast sandbox into which details can be inserted by participants (for example, you are free to decide that there is a particular temple in the midst of the forest in which something may be found or that there is a particular shop/hotel/restaurant in a section of the town), if you come up with a location that you desire/expect other characters to visit, please add it to the thread page as a sub-location of the relevant area.
Things change as the story progresses. If, for example, a massive battle occurs at a location and the area is now strewn with bodies and buildings are damaged, kindly update the thread page to reflect those changes, in order that other participants have an up-to-date description of the location prior to sending their characters there.
Special thanks to all those who helped in getting the original thread launched or provided ideas and feedback. In alphabetic order, they include:
Blackfire 667, Collen, Corvidae, daird, Darkblood Carnagefang, Eterna Memoria, Gault, Kkutwar, Killer Clowns, ladytanuki, Masterofchaos, nrjxll, Pyxo, Slysheen, Tro Partner, Will De Regio and especially Wolf 1066, whose original post I have shamelessly copied with only minor alterations.
Apologies if I missed anyone - just let me know and I'll update the post.
The dawn of another day rises across the land, heralding fresh morning air, clearer heads, opened doors, and new arrivals.
Between dimensions, and linked to the rest of the multiverse, lies a strange post-apocalyptic environment made up of various regions strewn with the remnants of past glory - ruins, lost technologies and magic. Here and there, nature has found its way back amongst the ruined temples and towns.
In the midst of the blighted landscape, a fresh new town has emerged - a synergy of technology, nature and magic; clean and eco-friendly; a beacon of hope for a brighter future - where travelers can rest, recharge their batteries (both literally and metaphorically) and get whatever they may need - technological, magical or otherwise - to aid them on their adventures.
New arrivals can turn up by diverse means in the transportation area in the north-western part of the town or by whatever other means they deem appropriate. Here they may also find for rent, lease or hire, any transport they desire from riding animals to vehicles.
The wilderness areas have not been fully explored since the mysterious apocalyptic events that ravaged the area some time ago and no one is really sure what's out there - but rumors abound.
All that is known for sure is that both magic and technology have existed here for a long time, so anything is possible...
Current Time: 10:00 AM
Current Weather: Sunny
See the thread page for updates.
Edited by Ryuhza on Feb 22nd 2023 at 1:14:28 AM
This is my good side.
Hub Town: Nattlås Dim Diner, by the corner
Velten's shoulders relaxed a little, hearing that this expedition was not as 'secret' as he had thought. "It might be just the locals' superstition." He replied, looking at Sigmund and Toni. "Hopefully, it's just a thick fog. But it wouldn't kill us to be prepared for something... shall we say, 'less natural'." While he was talking, one of his hands absentmindedly rose up to his shirt's collar and dug under it, briefly pulling up what looked like a thin golden chain.
He scratched the back of his head, feeling a familiar tickling. Maybe it was a bug bite he had gotten without realising it. Maybe it was the all familiar sensation of being watched from his back, which had been a prelude to some ugly encounters. Maybe it was just paranoia, as he found himself discussing an, admitedly, 'not-as-shady-as-he-had-thought' project in a place fit for shadier dealings. Whatever it was, he didn't pay much attention to it.
"A warding ritual might or might not be necessary." He added. "It might be enough with some protective. I'm sure there's a shop nearby that deals with those." He had heard that a Harpid merchant had been peddling wares of that sort yesterday, but she had packed up and left with destination unknown.
[Hotel - Lobby (Wolf; Ultra, Lancer; Iveya, Imes, Aseyu; Joseph)]
Imes moved with surprising speed to Joseph, looking him over with keen concern. Lance had already asked if he was alright, so Imes didn't repeat the question. "Nasty spill," he said, offering a hand to help Joseph up. "Didn't see you hit your head, thank the Xayu. How's your back?"
There was something about Imes' presence. The best parts of Joseph's soul sang. He might take Imes' offered hand. He might pull himself up. He might decide it was a poor idea to stand, and so simply not do so... but if he did it would be because he chose to, perhaps out of concern for the damage the fall had done. There would be no self-pity. The strongest and most dutiful parts of Joseph's own soul drew strength from Imes' firm, comforting presence. And if he did choose to stand, he would not slip and fall again.
Joseph would have no reason to believe anything supernatural was happening. It was the best parts of his own being, after all, telling him these things. They had always been there, putting one foot in front of the other. Imes' presence did nothing but shine a resolute light on and strengthen those parts. Imes could never compel a person to do anything. Lancer, however, given her powers, would be able to feel the unwavering light emanating from Imes, strengthening Joseph, and immediately know there was more to the man than met the eye.
Iveya did not seem to possess a similar light. Just an ordinary woman? But then, before this moment, Imes had not shown anything unusual either.
Others, those able to detect magic but lacking an especial connection to minds and emotions, would notice the general area was "bathed in sunlight", but it would be hard to draw the connection to Imes. It was distinct from Lancer's abilities, and Aseyu's strange blankness ruled her out, but Wolf, Ultra, Iveya, some hidden power of Joseph himself, or some unseen outside party would all seem like plausible candidates. Perhaps they could draw a connection to Imes offering his hand and the sunlight, but it would not suffice as solid proof.
As all this went on, Aseyu approached, oblivious to the light. However, she and Iveya caught one another's eyes, but only briefly — even cosmopolitan Qorisayane considered "staring" rude, though at least they understood well enough that non-Qorisayane thought otherwise.
Let's not crowd this poor fellow. Especially if that's who I think it is... So, for now, she took a gamble and said, "ul'Oriyith?"
Iveya responded with a soft fist-to-chest salute and an Oriyith smile: tight-lipped but sincere. An American might misread it as a smirk, if they did not notice the softness in the eyes. A wordless affirmative answer: other cultures of the Empire considered it improper to smile at a stranger in ordinary circumstances. Though they did typically understand Oriyith's little eccentricity.
Aseyu returned the expression and, with a leisurely salute, said, "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting."
Iveya replied, "we move in different circles, vash'Suela."
"How did you..." Aseyu began.
"The Amurat Art Gallery," Iveya replied. "Clever idea with the necklace, I dare say. Ketali."
Aseyu chuckled at this. Iveya was referring to the painting of Aseyu, painted by a master from Kykiten, hanging in the Amurat Art Gallery. Iveya had presumably just recognized Aseyu from that painting. As for her friendly quip about the necklace? The portrait was a nude, save for a necklace that the painter had made sure to capture in detail. A work of Aseyu's sister, Malo, who had gotten quite a number of orders for similar pieces after its unveiling. To say nothing of what they'd gotten for the original at auction, courtesy of several wealthy and eager gentlemen. So, in a few sentences, several things had been established. Iveya was a priestess of the Xayusa faith — thus the reason Aseyu, a Suelasa, had never met her. However, while many priestesses had conservative leanings, Iveya was clearly a cultured woman. Finally, given her open and pointed admiration of Aseyu's ability to turn a portrait into a profitable advertisement...
"Thank you," Aseyu said. "So, I take you're a Flower as well?"
Iveya shook her head and said, "it wouldn't do for a woman in my position to get directly involved in politics. Besides... respectfully, some of your members would turn Qorisa into another Dying World."
"How did you come to know about the Dying World?" Aseyu said, now cautious.
"I am well-connected," Iveya said, her tone making it clear there would be no further explanation. "And I'm afraid the Flowers might bring..." here, she did meet Aseyu's eyes, briefly, but enough to emphasize the point. Then she looked around conspiratorially, and chose her next word precisely, to ensure it was not translated for those who would not understand: "erisanayulum".
Aseyu nodded. She understood. "Some of them might," she said, "if we arne't... careful. But I think we can learn from avoid the Dying World's mistakes." Then, looking over at Imes, she said, "I suppose I should still introduce myself. Aseyu ul'Valmoth qo'Etanu vash'Suela. And...?"
Iveya said, "Iveya ul'Oriyith qo'Athor vashon'Xayu."
A patronym, when Qorisa was traditionally matriarchal, and a very strange choice of vashon. Priestesses usually chose a patron deity rather than devoting themselves directly to the ineffable Xayu. Unusual, but not unprecedented. Aseyu wasn't going to pry. She also noted that Imes has spoken likewise — thank the Xayu, rather than a particular deity.
Without moving from Joseph's side, Imes quickly introduced himself as "Imes ul'Elasashu qo'Esaxe."
Aseyu barely suppressed a groan. ul'Elasashu? Ul'Elasashu? Iveya had said it was "old-fashioned", but that had been a grand understatement: Elasashu had been razed three thousand years ago. That wasn't to say Imes was three thousand years old, of course. However, only the Old Clans — descendants of the slaves whose rebellion, with the aid of Xeqa the Crucifier, had destroyed the Elasane slave-state — still used that name. A way of not forgetting their dark history, their ancestors' struggles, and (most concerning to Aseyu) the need to ruthlessly crush any potential threats before they could threaten their freedom.
Yet if "Imes" was Old Clan, he'd have given a clan name. Something like Ethani's "aq'Iqine". Maybe he was on bad terms with his Clan? If that was the case, though, why was he still waving around ul'Elasashu?
Also... Imes and Iveya? That was like meeting a "Jane" and "John" traveling together. Common names, but not so common that encountering them together wasn't a bit curious.
This was a very odd pair of people, Aseyu concluded. Odd, and a little suspicious, but she doubted she'd get much out of them if she was too direct about it.
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 4th 2024 at 8:12:15 AM
[Basement]
"W-Wait!" Amandus called as Joseph walked towards the light. "Joseph! Don't—"
But it was too late, he was already gone. Both men looked worriedly ahead as it appeared that he was swallowed whole from the darkness. It wasn't until he waved that they were reassured he didn't just vanish off the face of the earth.
"I don't like this," Amandus whispered to his husband, "What even is that thing? Where did it come from?"
"Honey, I feel the same way you do," James said back, "But we should follow Joseph, just to make sure it doesn't do anything to hurt him. If things get ugly, well, you know what we have to do."
Amandus twisted his lip, but ultimately, he nodded, and the two men followed Joseph into the dark.
< Hub Town - Hotel, Lobby (right of fountain) >
From his dazed, upside-down perspective, Joseph still managed to get a decent look at the man he'd bumped into. The goatee and vest finally clued him in that the stranger was some kind of biker, which went a ways in explaining the all-black outfit and lightweight armor. This might've concerned him, if not for the man's evident concern for his own well being, outweighing the gruff, belligerent stereotypes he'd learned from TV.
A second pair of legs came into his view and—despite his silent prayers that his fall had been a relatively discreet affair—seeming to be heading his way. He considered lifting his arms and legs and playing possum until the current occupants of the lobby shuffled out, replaced by a crowd less painfully aware of his blunder. Although that still left him in proximity of Ultra and Bonnie, each a witness to earlier mishaps. Like it or not, he was developing a bit of a record.
Nonetheless, he attempted to get a look at the owner of the voice without moving too much, hanging onto the outside chance that his own unresponsiveness would somehow instill sudden and intense boredom. Alas, without properly lifting his head, there wasn't much he could see of 'Adrienne, there to help'. He was asked if he was okay a few more times, and again he couldn't muster a response for lack of air. Just as well, as his first words would have been a gross misestimation of his lungs' current whereabouts, and he'd hate to seem an even bigger fool.
The attention of yet another person present put the kibosh on any hopes of going unnoticed by staying still. He would've sighed had he any air to give, but already the small annoyance seemed more and more its proper scale; a trifling insignificance in the face of all else, himself included. The fact that these people had so quickly come to his aid was heartening, not humiliating. He'd had some kind of freak accident, that was all. And darn it, it was worth thanking the Xayu that he hadn't landed any worse. His back would surely be sore, but it was functional, and there was no time like the present to get up.
He lifted his head, gaze meeting looks of reassurance and bemusement. The latter was shared in his own expression before he quickly deduced that the weaselly looking person kneeling was not in fact David from the elevator after suddenly growing over a foot and getting a bonus makeover, but must've been Adrienne, a theory supported by the fact that she seemed to be there to help. He cocked his head curiously but did not stare for more than a brief second, though even that second brought him a strange sense of ease. The other immediate figure was a man, dark skinned and blue eyed, extending a hand. It only seemed right to take it, So Joseph-
"Hey!"
Joseph's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Henry's voice, suddenly very loud, cutting forcefully across their part of the lobby, and most certainly not directed at Bonnie.
"Hey what the fuck?!"
Joseph scrambled into a sitting position before swiftly flipping over and wheezing various "no"s and "don't"s, each sound half-formed, still wanting for more air. He gave his head a vigorous shaking as well, but Henry's eyes—which had caught only the tail end of the entire altercation—were locked squarely on the biker as he marched over, carrying his six feet and large frame with all the physical clout it afforded him. Even a passing glance would recognize how incensed he was, driving him to a single focus: retribution.
Leaving Joseph to his volunteer attendants, Henry didn't slow until he was practically in the biker's face. The size and age difference, pronounced up close, gave him a measure of pause, but only for a moment. "Hey asshole, where do you get off shoving my friend like that? This isn't the private club of the Satan's Helpers; Joe's got as much right to be here as you do! You don't get to just shove people around!" On the word shove, he gave the man what he believed to be a taste of his own medicine. Enough of a push to stumble him, he hoped, without sending him to the ground.
< Hub Town - Nattlås Dim Diner (a dimly-lit corner seat) >
The woman who called herself Lucille frowned, sensing she was losing her crowd to uncertainty and a tangent about performing a ritual she hadn't mentioned. Valten at least seemed to support her initial dismissal, though not without suggesting a diversion to a nearby shop for protective measures, an excursion that would cost precious time and pry conspicuously at the remaining contents of her purse.
She waved her hand, as though clearing the fog she'd mentioned, "There will be no need for any ritual, warding or otherwise. The only known 'ritual'—if you'd like to call it that—is simply to refrain from traveling to the island, which naturally conflicts with the primary purpose of this expedition. Besides," she glanced off to the side, as though she could see the island through the walls, buildings, expanse of land, and obscuring fog, "I haven't heard any account compelling enough to prove this is anything more than a broad fear of the unknown. Press anyone for details as to why Kequay is to be left alone and you'll never get a concrete answer. Feelings, bad vibrations," another wave, "superstitions. On the other hand, we have reports—sparse, but legitimate—of people who have ventured to the island, far less prepared than our modest crew, and have returned intact without any lasting health issues."
As she spoke, her left hand seemed restless, thumb rubbing over the discolored nail of her middle finger. "Those same accounts also made mention of a unique ecology that has emerged on the island in response to the fog, or perhaps alongside it. Novel organisms which could provide clues as to the true nature of Kequay's change or contain unique properties besides. Samples of which would be regarded as very valuable in certain circles."
Edited by Ryuhza on Mar 9th 2024 at 5:07:10 AM
this place needs me here
Crazy Kiwi
Hotel - Lobby
[Iveya, Imes, Aseyu, Joseph and Adrienne... but mostly Henry and Wolf]Imes joined Adrienne near the fallen lizard-person and offered his hand.
Wolf was mostly concerned with the lizard-person's wellbeing but he was also aware of the conversation going on between Iveya and the other dark-skinned woman - who must also be Qorisayane, given Iveya seemed to have recognised her... from an art gallery? There followed some cryptic talk of flowers and then a word that was not translated... perhaps because it was a concept that did not have a simple word or phrase in English to translate into - just as some words in Te Reo Māori, and other languages, could not be translated with a single English word (which didn't stop people from trying, of course). He briefly wondered what would happen if he dropped 'mana' or 'tapu' into a conversation here...
He shot a glance in the likely-Qorisayane newcomer's direction when she introduced herself as Aseyu - that name was familiar to him. Though he had no idea if it was the same 'Aseyu' that Koyel had spoken of... for all he knew, it could be the Qorisayane equivalent of 'Jane' or 'Mary' and every second Qorisayane woman you met carried the name.
It looked like the lizard-person was showing signs of movement and would soon be on their feet again when someone shouted, "Hey!" in an unmistakably angry tone.
Wolf looked around to see where the voice was coming from - it was a safe bet that it was somewhere in the main part of the lobby - in time to see the plain-looking bloke from the fountain storming in his direction, yelling, "Hey what the fuck?!"
The hostile intent was clear and Wolf took a step back, once again raising his open hands in a placatory gesture, but the man continued approaching. Wolf wasn't sure how much more manoeuvring room he still had behind him and didn't dare risk looking, so he stayed put, hoping that he still had enough space to take further evasive action if needed. He had no idea if the man was going to hit him or just bawl him out - he looked unstable enough for it to go either way. Wolf had the horrible feeling he had unzipped the protective front of his armour too early. His gloves, with their armoured knuckles, would've been handy, too - but they were locked up on the bike.
The man got right in his face, dangerously close, towering over him. "Hey asshole, where do you get off shoving my friend like that?"
"I didn't shove 'im," but his words were drowned out as the guy started ranting about private clubs, 'Satan's Helpers' and Joe's right to be here - the lizard-person was called Joe?
Wolf didn't bother trying to interrupt - the guy obviously didn't want to hear and was beyond reasoning with at the moment - better to let him finish his rant and then explain in calm, rational tones...
Wolf saw the attack coming. He was extremely attuned to the bloke's body - as you tend to be when there's a good chance that they're about to clobber you - and saw the shift in centre of mass as the man braced himself to commit to the attack. Consequently, he was already shifting his weight back as the shove occurred and he smoothly continued the backwards step into a stable stance further away from his attacker, his hands extended, palms out, in a clear "back off" gesture. There had been enough room behind him, after all.
How dare that arsehole shove him?! The fact that it had caused no inconvenience at all was immaterial; the bastard had deliberately assaulted him - for someone who made disparaging comments about biker gangs, the bloke certainly displayed a lot of antisocial and violent tendencies of his own.
"This isn't the private club of the Satan's Helpers" the bloke had said during his rant. The sheer effrontery of that! The assumptions behind it, the prejudice... and the utter stupidity. Wolf seethed. 'Rides motorbike = piece-of-shit gang member' - if the negative assumptions had been about skin colour or gender, there would have been specific words for that! It wasn't as if he was displaying any other signs that he was affiliated with any gang - unless the stupid wanker thought his pride flag and pronoun pins were gang insignia!
As infuriating as the bloke's blatant prejudices might be, it was nothing that Wolf couldn't handle in isolation. He wasn't dark skinned or a woman, but he had experienced discrimination often enough that it had little power in itself - but in addition to being physically assaulted, it was more fuel for the fire. Any hope that this could have been resolved amicably had vanished the instant the bloke assaulted him - the fight had been started and Wolf had numerous things to be fucked off about. Fuck de-escalation! He was hungry for retaliation.
In the roar of thoughts seething in Wolf's head was the knowledge that the hotel's security guard was still standing nearby and probably wouldn't take kindly to people throwing hands... but he had another way of unleashing the full force of his fury on the bloke without having to respond with physical violence.
"Cool it!" It was a roar, not a polite suggestion; his voice reverberated in the open expanse of the lobby. He had grown up rural and could project his voice across paddocks... and he was making damned sure that the mouthy bastard wasn't going to drown him out this time. "And Shut The FUCK Up!" he continued before any answer could be made.
He lowered his voice somewhat, now that he was certain he had gained his attacker's attention, but it would clear to anyone in the lobby that the time for calm, rational tones had passed. "I didn't shove y' mate!" he snapped. "He fuckin' slipped, y'stupid prick!"
That would have been enough had the bloke limited himself to obscenities, name-calling and prejudiced ranting, but it was nowhere near enough to cover the assault - and Wolf was hell bent on making him pay for what he had done. "The only one who's shoved anyone, is you! Y're a 'brave' little cunt when you're dealing with someone shorter 'n you, aincha." He paused for a beat to let the implication hit home then pressed on. "And you're a fuckin' bigot, t'boot. Just 'coz I ride a motorbike, you assume I'm a gang member 'n' treat me like shit. Lucky for you, y're wrong or y'd be lyin' on th'floor in a worse fuckin' state than y'mate." His voice took on a distinctly scornful tone, "what the fuck's wrong with you, man? Y'mate's lying injured on th'floor 'n' y' first feeble attempt at thought is 'beat up the nearest biker'!? Fine fuckin' friend, you are!"
Wolf glared at the bloke, alert for any other signs of aggression or continued attacking. He was mindful that his diatribe - extra vitriol and a side order of public humiliation, hold the mayo - could incite further violence, especially in someone as unstable as this wanker seemed to be. Wolf was too angry and hopped up on adrenaline to care, at this point. If the bloke pressed the attack, it was going to be painful - but not immediately - so Wolf would just have to make sure he wasn't the only one feeling the pain afterwards, even if it took an even greater toll on his body to do so... and he was in exactly the right mood to do it.
Then again, maybe the bloke had got it into his thick skull that he was mistaken and had assaulted someone for no reason, or maybe he'd get grabbed by the security guard for assaulting someone in the lobby.
In the back of Wolf's mind was the knowledge that he had just lost his temper and verbally 'unloaded' on someone in public, but he felt justified and too angry to give a fuck about anyone else's opinion.
she/her friend to the hooved
Ultra, Hub Town, Hotel, near reception
All attention off of her (and with reasonable certainty that Joseph was uninjured), Ultra would have used the ongoing commotion to slip away, perhaps pursue the Alice lead... but Joseph had apparently come over to speak with her about one thing or another, and as distantly curt and introverted as she usually was, she wasn't about to just ditch the boy like that.
She instead opted to simply observe the situation, seeming to shrink down in every way but the physical, very much hoping that she wasn't about to be pulled into things.
Lancer, Hub Town, Hotel, near reception
With some visible relief that at least one other person present seemed to have the kid's back, she stood up and backed a few feet away to give them yet more space. "Just winded. No injuries that I can sense..." she began to relay to the one in the tunic before something struck her about them, and she had to try very hard not to outright stare.
She hadn't noticed in her own rush to render aid, if they'd even been doing it at all up until then, but now that they'd drawn attention to themselves, it was very hard to ignore—it was like a sort of radiating light. Nothing that shone in the physical sense, nothing she could literally see, but it was nevertheless present in that sort of hard-to-describe way that a lot of hidden things were apparent to her. Powers like her own didn't do that (and she'd known other psychics), rather, she'd have likened it to a magic-user.
She knew one of those: Lakaiia, or Kay. According to her files, she'd once belonged to one of the only known groups of magic-users around, an insular cult-like organization teaching mastery over heat and flame, before she broke away after seeing how they'd been sitting on their laurels during all manner of disasters and incidents that powers like theirs could have prevented. Despite barely being 20, she was incredibly powerful in her own right, but it was a power she didn't have the strongest hold on—there was one incident wherein she outright lost control after pushing herself too hard, coming within a hair's breadth of literally burning herself out and possibly killing or injuring numerous others.
It took a call to Adrienne herself to help the girl rein it in, and it was a sight the stoat tried very much to forget: pained pleading for someone to do something, tears evaporating as soon as they left her eyes, and normally flame-impervious fur and skin and fabric beginning to burn. It took psychically shutting off the genet's powers for a time, something she apparently didn't take well after the panic had died down, to which Adrienne herself could easily empathize; she didn't know what she'd do if she lost her own powers. Them simply being muted as they were now was disconcerting enough, as they had long become akin to just another sense, like seeing or hearing.
But this light wasn't quite like Kay's abilities either. That kind of power manifested as a sort of ethereal warmth, a flickering, dancing light as if by flame, but this was a steady, radiant sort of aura, and it seemed to have been aimed down at the kid specifically. That part would have alarmed her under most other circumstances, but now-
She didn't get to finish that thought as her attention was drawn away from Imes and toward another individual, this one marching up to confront the one in the armored jacket. They didn't seem much older than 'Joe', and the two were apparently very close friends.
Only they weren't an empath, and had thus predictably taken this whole situation at face value, believing their friend to have been attacked and reacting accordingly (if brashly). Without moving from her position, she simply raised a hand, and the aggressor would find it very difficult to move closer to their target or raise a fist to strike. It was as if they were being held back by some intangible, invisible force, though not held completely still—they'd still be able to move and back away if they felt like it, and the effect would cease.
"He's right," she began with confidence that she now had their attention, her firm tone barely louder than a conversational volume, noting the other party's pronouns from the rather considerate button pin. "It was an accident, nobody touched anyone."
She looked toward the jacketed one for a second, shaking her head as if to dissuade him from trying anything either, though he notably wasn't given the restraining treatment, making it clear where her own sympathies lay.
Edited by Chortleous on Mar 10th 2024 at 12:30:38 PM
[Hotel - Lobby (Wolf; Ultra, Lancer; Iveya, Imes, Aseyu; Joseph, Henry)]
Imes wondered about Henry. Wolf had a point: he'd gone right up to a man who was old, and who he believed was a gang member. Did he understand what it meant when a gang member survived that long? Did this kid think he was invincible? Actually, given his age, probably, yeah. Pups like that, Imes believed, had to take a few beatings to learn. Even if they won every fight, it all added up. A good punch here, a nasty elbow there. Best way to win a fight was before it started. He'd learn, one way or the other. Hopefully without any serious losses.
Imes wasn't mad at the guy, though. Sure, he hadn't quite learned how old heads handled these situations. Didn't know how to properly intimidate a person in a way that'd give him an out for a just-small-enough cost of dignity and look suitably ambiguous when read out loud in a court of law. But Imes got where he was coming from. From the new guy's perspective, Wolf had damn sure disrespected the lizard fellow. More than that, in fact. He couldn't begrudge a fellow ready to enter brawl for a friend. That was what friends did.
Still. This was a problem in need of resolving, before fists started flying. Still focusing on helping Joseph up, Imes said, "you wanna explain this whole mess to your friend so he can save his fists for someone who deserves 'em? He'll listen to you." That last statement was spoken as a fact, and that light was still present, gently encouraging Joseph to do the right thing. What was that? Imes didn't know. That was a question Joseph would have to answer for himself.
He thought about giving the young guy a warning as well, to take a moment and chill. Advice he'd recently had to give himself, as he was all too aware. But no, the young tough had more reason to listen to a friend than a stranger. He'd step in directly only if it was necessary. Besides, the other animal-person seemed to have the situation in control with... whatever it was she was doing.
Aseyu and Iveya exchanged a knowing glances as they distanced themselves from the fight while also moving to flank if necessary. Still, Aseyu whispered, "you sure about fighting in that dress?"
"It will be fine," Iveya replied. "It's tougher than it looks."
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 10th 2024 at 1:30:58 PM
< Hub Town - Hotel, B1 (Near the orb) >
Satisfied with the signs of movement in the hall, Joseph returned to the object of his fascination in all its mysterious, blue-glowing glory. He pulled his head back slightly as he approached, careful to avoid sticking his nose into the unknown substance. For all he knew, just a touch could get him high as a kite or leave him writhing on the floor within seconds. Still, his tail hooked upwards slightly, swaying with a gentle delight; something about the orb tickled his brain just right as he watched it, the same mesmeric appeal of a lava lamp or a plasma ball.
Tucking his towel under one arm, he held his hands out to the sides of the object, cautiously bringing them closer to feel for warmth or perhaps cold. He got neither, but rather a strange softness in his hands, a sort of half numb, pins-and-needles sensation, as though he'd been pushing around a motorized lawn mower for an hour. Quickly, he pulled them away, shivering and taking a step back. He added another step for good measure before sniffing at the air, seeing if he could pick anything out. The air was a blend of earthy notes and metal, all accentuated by ambient moisture, a bit like the smell inside a water ride at an amusement park, but there was nothing striking that pointed toward the glowing orb as having any great contribution to it.
"You guys gotta come look at this thing," he called back, his voice echoing loud enough to carry over the sound of flowing water. He never let his eyes leave the orb, as though there was a kindred connection between the three blue spheres. Although, upon closer inspection, he realized that the mysterious object wasn't quite a sphere after all. The shape was slightly oblong, and the patterns within were warped, collecting more tightly at a particular point. Cocking his head, he stepped to the side, slowly circling until he spotted a point of emergence, where the light of the ellipsoid illuminated part of a long, large arm, tapering to a point a little ways past the ellipsoid. Following it as far as the light would reach, he could just barely see the shape of the arm extending down from the dark ceiling, bending to follow the curvature of the wall, as if the room had a ribcage.
Finally, he turned around, searching for signs of Amandus and James. The darkness was all the more blinding to his overstimulated eyes, and he couldn't see much of anything for a few seconds. When his vision finally started to adjust, the image of the glowing blue ellipsoid didn't so much as fade away as spread out, breaking into smaller children as though they were the titular space rocks in Asteroids. It took a few blinks and a good rubbing of his eyes to realize that these miniature blue copycats weren't a strange form of phosphenes or a transforming afterimage, but were actually more glowing ellipsoids, emerging all around the room, slowly growing bigger and brighter.
this place needs me here
[Hub Town - Nattlås Dim Diner (a dimly-lit corner seat)]
"The thing about 'rituals' was kinda a hypothetical. My point was really just: any intel we got, we use. But..." he sighed. "Sounds like we don't have much."
Then he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Certain circles included a multinational agricultural and biochemical conglomerate, after all. Maybe he should get Isaac involved? No, he'd tell his sister and she'd damn well insist the operation be done by a full op team. Which was fair, he supposed... but damn it all, Sigmund had been cooped up in his office too long. It wasn't rational. There was simply a certain rush he'd developed a taste for, one that only real physical danger could bring.
He'd collect the samples himself, he decided. He reckoned he knew a thing or two about how his business was run beyond spreadsheets; what to look out for in potential samples, what to discard, how to gather without damage.He pulled out a phone and sent a text to al-Filasteeni. Could you get a sample collection suite to the docks? Keep in-house. Resilient sample containers, precision tools, even a portable AI-powered lab kit.
Meanwhile, Sigmund's eyes lit up with newfound interest. "So about these samples: do you have a contract to fulfill, or are you a freelancer?"
[Hotel Lobby (Hadia al-Filasteeni)]
A woman in her late twenties (or so it seemed — the joys of cutting-edge biotech) left the bar and made her way through the lobby. She was a tall, slender woman of Middle Eastern descent: a pretty face with thin-rimmed, fashionable glasses, framed by a chic bob dyed a deeper black with a subtle iridescent sheen. She wasn't in full corporate wear, though: neither the Hugo Boss black slacks nor the matching pumps looked obviously pricey, and the t-shirt... the design just depicted a young man drawn in an anime style surrounded by sharp, intense red-and-black motif, though those in the know would the motif, and recognize the character himself as Persona 5's Joker. (Self-awareness had never been her strong suit.)
Hadia's slightly staggered steps as she went on her task said "more 'tipsy' than 'drunk', still not legally permitted to operate vehicles or heavy machinery, and quite annoyed her drinking has been interrupted." If left to her own devices, she would continue along her path to retrieve the gear and some minions and deliver it — unfortunately for her, Hadia al-Filasteeni, Strategic Initiatives Director of Western Amalgamated, had been once again reduced to gofer simply because she was the only trustworthy, reliable, and competent person available. Sigmund didn't want Alice looped in. Hadia didn't know or care why; if there was something that Sigmund wanted that demented little woman's nose out of, he had good reason. Hadia has seen Chaudhary in the bar, playing pool with some of his cronies over lager, but he answered to Alice before anyone else. Isaac... Hadia got along well with Isaac, but he was Alice's brother, so telling him was the same as telling her. Which left Hadia. And perhaps Sigmund's nepo baby nephew, Magnus, but after being humiliated by a camel, of all things, he had joined Chaudhary for a round of pool. (Last Hadia had checked, Chaudhary was beating Magnus, even while holding back enough to avoid destroying his ego entirely.)
She failed to notice the trio of Qorisayane, a mistake she would not have made if she'd not been getting so well-acquainted with the bar's wide selection of craft brews.
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 13th 2024 at 8:13:34 AM
she/her friend to the hooved
Toni, Hub Town, Nattlås Dim Diner, a dimly-lit corner table
Toni's ears abruptly and noticeably perked up the prospect of sample collection and analysis. This was her domain, hypothetical arcane rituals be damned, but she had to remind herself to hold her tongue—how much about herself was wise to share with present company? Connie she doubted was a risk, but Sigmund and Valten... no, if there was any time that this was pertinent, it was now. She'd deal with the repercussions later.
"If we ever need it..." the giraffid began, biting her lip. "I can do it. Sight in a wide range of wavelengths, spectrometry, 10x magnification microscopy, organic compound analysis, and I can compare with a database of stuff I've run into. It's not as in-depth as something like a stocked lab, but it's served me well enough, doing... what I do, exploring."
A shrug, leaning back in her seat. "Anything organic, inorganic, I'm your woman, I guess."
It wasn't much longer before a waiter, lithe and approximately humanoid in shape with plate-segmented features that bore a distinctly chitinous glint in the low light, walked up to the table in near-total silence and with dishes in hand—four hands, as a matter of fact, from a pair of prosthetic arms that extended at least up past their elbow-length sleeves and split into two at the forearm. In a voice barely above a whisper, they listed, verified, and handed off the groups' exact orders in as unobtrusive a manner as possible before departing just as quickly and silently as they'd arrived.
Kay, The Scar >>> Ghost Town, South Side
Sturdy canvas backpack slung over one shoulder, a girl
◊ stepped up and out of the concrete trench and set her sights on the overgrown ruin up ahead. 5'3, wiry, and looking to be in her late teens to early 20s, she rather resembled an anthropomorphic genet, with deep red hair in an undercut that would normally fall heavily over one of her orange-red eyes, were it not tied back into a ponytail behind two large pierced ears. What's more, the fur on her forearms and hands appeared patchy and uneven in places, a detail that the knowledgeable might recognize as healed-over burns.
She was dressed simply and casually, without much in the way of expensive-looking finery—a loose black hoodie over a tank top and a pair of ratty jeans, notably without shoes, as her padded feet seemed to provide adequate protection from the elements. Some things did stand out, though, chief among them a chained metal pendant with an inset painted symbol resembling a stylized, angular flame, as well as what would appear to be a square sash worn on one hip and bearing that same symbol, both colored in vibrant shades of red and orange.
Getting a good look at the place, at the rotting facades of businesses and homes, at the tall grass and vines slowly reclaiming all of it, the girl sighed irritably. She'd seen the shapes of buildings in the distance, and hoped to find a friendly face, a phone, directions... but it clearly wasn't meant to be. She couldn't be too annoyed, though, as a glance back across the concrete trench reminded her of the route she'd taken to get here; a route that evidently took her a bit too close to a place she ought not to have been, catching the attention of something that had been impervious to her flames, and having to run for her life. She was reasonably sure it had given up by now.
By most reasonable metrics, it had been a great morning so far.
Edited by Chortleous on Mar 13th 2024 at 1:09:11 PM
Hotel Lobby (Bonnie; almost everyone else in the Lobby)
Noticing Joseph bump into the stranger and subsequently fall, Bonnie began moving towards the fallen salamander-man. However, another person in the lobby beat her to the punch. She then noticed the lobby becoming brighter, much to her confusion. "What the..." she muttered.
Approaching closer, she overheard the names of the attractive and well-dressed trio of individuals, foreigners by the sound of their names. Unfamiliar foreigners at that, most likely not of her world, judging from the mention of Qorisa and a dying world. She'd have to look up the former later, just to be sure.
Her musings, however, were interrupted by Henry's interjection and quick march towards the motorcyclist Joseph had inadvertently bumped into. Bonnie moved to intercept but was too late as Henry berated and shoved the shorter man. This sparked the man's anger, causing him to give Henry a thoroughly aggressive scolding for his actions.
She swiftly approached, firmly placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, and bluntly told him: "Stand down."
Edited by WillDeRegio on Mar 13th 2024 at 6:34:10 AM
< Hub Town - Hotel, Lobby (Right of fountain) >
In his mental playbook, Henry had envisioned a simple plan with a simple outcome: storm over to the guy who'd shoved Joseph, deliver measured retaliation— more of a coax than a real attack, hopefully get the man to back down through sheer presence while sending the message that Joseph wasn't to be messed with, but, ultimately, anticipate more violence. If it came to that, he figured he could hold the man off until the hotel security stepped in. After all, the truth was on his side, along with at least a half dozen witnesses. He could stomach a few blows, he didn't see a gun, and if the guy pulled a knife, he felt optimistic about his ability to hold his wrist in place. Henry wasn't just big, he was strong. As a mechanic, he'd not only developed the capacity for regular heavy lifting, but his hands had braved the full gamut of boneheaded engineering decisions, with fingers that could exercise herculean strength in extremely confined spaces.
However, the biker man was spry, handling the shove without issue. Henry pulled back very slightly, his own hands half raised in anticipation of a follow up. His eyes moved from the man's face down to his hands and back to his face, his own tension building along with the man's evident anger. Henry set his jaw, contracting the muscles of his abdomen. The biker man was about to make his move, and Henry was ready.
Or so he thought.
Yelling and bluster were expected. It came with the territory of gruff men who shoved people around for small infractions. What he didn't anticipate was the sheer incendiary heat of the verbal barrage he was delivered. The steely intensity of his hard-set brow and narrowed eyes wavered, replaced by surprise. Either the guy was a world class liar, or he was deluded enough to genuinely believe that what he'd done was somehow justified, and Henry's reaction was not.
Surprised or not, he wasn't about to back down so easily, and there were a few accusations he took particular umbrage at, his eyes widening incredulously when he was called a bigot.
With a scoff, he retorted, "Buddy, let me steer you straight: I assume you're an asshole because you fucking shoved my friend, like an asshole would! Whatever leathers you wear are beside the point. But I'm telling you, if you lay another finger on him-"
"Hnhreeh."
Henry glanced over his shoulder. First at Joseph, who'd made it to his knees, and the two helpful strangers at his side, one of whom did appear to be a stoat person, but that hardly seemed pressing. Said stoat person corroborated the biker's story, though she led with "he's right," sparking a false hope in him that burnt out a half second later. Maybe it was momentum, commitment, or another word for hard-headedness, but Henry wasn't yet willing to hear out the case the more logical side of him was swiftly assembling. He glanced again at Joseph, who shook his head urgently between difficult breaths. The sign was a simple yet fairly ambiguous 'no', one Henry took to mean, no, that's not what happened. Get him.
"You've gotta be kidding me. You expect me to believe that was him slipping?" He returned his attention to the biker man, "and I guess you putting your hands out like this," he imitated the man's defensive posture, though he had some difficulty bringing his hands up until he drew them further back, "was you trying to catch him? Or do you have another excuse from the wifebeater handbook? 'He slipped.'"
"Henry!"
Henry started to turn again to the sound of Joseph's voice when Bonnie approached, placing a calming hand on his shoulder as she urged him to stand down. At that point, the resolute agony of being on a one-man crusade was burning each and every line thrown to him. With a sense of justice absent the clarity of truth, he felt surrounded by corruption or mild insanity. It was an eerily familiar feeling. A sense that, felt with enough certainty, could destroy faith in people, even his own family.
"Aw, Bonnie, don't tell me you believe this load. Didn't you see it? No one just falls like that. This old dickhead-"
"HENRY! Stop!"
Henry stopped. The sound of Joseph's voice reaching a scarcely heard volume was a compelling enough reason. He turned to see Joseph staring directly at him, his salamandrine face pulled into a mix of exasperation and pain, though not of a physical sort.
"I slipped," he admitted, closing his eyes. "I bumped into him, and I slipped. The floor's... wet. He didn't do anything. Stop. Just..."
Henry was quiet then. He searched the floor, noting the glistening trail that did seem disturbed between where the man had been and where Joseph now was. For a moment, his fiery spirit still burned bright, ready to divert his wrath to whichever careless member of the janitorial staff had left a wet floor without wet floor signs. Then he followed the trail back to the fountain, back to where Joseph had been sitting. The image of Joseph's tail idly sloshing in the fountain water played like a projection across his mind's eye.
He swallowed. A cold, horrible feeling rolled through him, down from his head to his feet. He was wrong. He'd been wrong the whole time. Dead, dead wrong. When he finally turned back to the biker—drawing in a breath long enough to be his last—he looked a shade paler.
"Look, man... I..." Words. What could words do? "Ah, fuck."
Before he could muster up a better apology, the nearby security guard stepped in. "That's enough. Is this person bothering you?"
"No, he's..." Henry began, before realizing the guard had been asking the biker. He slapped a hand across his eyes, muttering a string of half-comprehensible, self-directed curses under his breath.
this place needs me here
Necropolis (Samelin, Rosafa, Devad, Maya, Amy, Issichar, et. al.)
Karmet sighed. "If I were a vampire, I would have burst into flames by now..." he muttered. "How about I watch over this thrall while you go hunt down its master? This would not be the first time I've had to stop something from getting away..."
"We should probably get going if we're going to stop Mael," Samelin said.
By now, it should be clear to all except the most dense of us that sheep are secretly conspiring to kill us all and steal our pants.
[Basement]
Did he not see them?
"Joseph!" Amandus called, "We're right here! Can you see—"
He stopped when he saw the orbs glow brighter and brighter, and took several steps back, only stopping when his husband held him. "What the hell..?"
James shook his head. "Don't touch those."
[Necroplois]
Melissa's face shifted to annoyance—perhaps the first emotion she'd showed since turning into Mael's minion. "I'm not an it. I'm a woman."
"Don't worry," Amy said, "We'll free you, miss! I promise!"
"Don't patronize me."
Nick stretched. "What are we waiting for? Let's go catch that bastard!"
Crazy Kiwi
Hotel - Lobby
[Ultra, Iveya, Imes, Joseph, Henry, Aseyu, Ethani, Mist, Maelys, Lancer, Bonnie, Wolf]Wolf wasn't sure if the angry bruiser was going to attack again but he had already made up his mind that if the bloke made a move towards him, he would have to treat it as an attack and respond accordingly. The bloke had already assaulted him and could not be allowed to get close again without steps being taken.
The guy was huge, so the old adage 'the bigger they come, the harder you hit 'em' applied here. Also, 'Queensberry Rules' were officially off the table; if a vulnerable target presented itself, it was fair game for fist, elbow, knee, foot or forehead... whichever was closest to the target. If Mr Shovey advanced, Wolf would also advance, meet him halfway, attempt to get past the hands - perhaps at the cost of a good solid thump - and target eyes and groin. He didn't have a hope in hell of stopping the bloke from beating him, but he'd bloody-well fight as if he did!
However, the youngster kept his distance and attempted to excuse his behaviour with ludicrous post hoc rationalisations. That was fine, so far as Wolf was concerned - no one who had seen what had actually happened would buy this bloke's bullshit.
Adrienne got to her feet and said 'he's right', which caused Wolf a moment's confusion and panic as to which 'he' she was talking about until she followed up with 'it was an accident' and confirmed that he hadn't pushed the lizard-person. The knot in Wolf's chest quickly faded now he was no longer worried that he had another person about to attack him for something he hadn't done.
Mr Shovey was still intent on justifying his violence and derisively dismissed Adrienne's testimony before turning his attention back to Wolf and trying to claim that a clear defensive gesture had been a shove.
Mr Shovey then accused Wolf of using excuses from the 'wife beater's handbook' - which was pretty rich coming from a huge burly guy with anger issues that went around shoving old cunts and then made up excuses for his behaviour. If anyone around here was likely to beat their wife, it was Mr Shovey, here.
The lizard-person managed to get enough breath back to call out 'Henry' and Mr Shovey reacted. So that was the arsehole's name!
At about this point, the rabbit-eared woman - possible Human Divergent - that had been sitting at the fountain with the lizard-person and Henry, approached and placed her hand on Henry's shoulder then bluntly told him to stand down.
Shovey-Henry identified her as "Bonnie" and still didn't pay attention to what he was told. He even had the utter to gall to say 'didn't you see it?' which was hysterically funny, given he obviously hadn't seen what had happened. Every time he opened his mouth, he shoved his foot further in it.
Wolf wondered if Bonnie would actually physically restrain Henry if he decided to continue his assault despite her telling him to stand down. The uniform suggested some sort of military training which undoubtedly would have included some form of hand-to-hand combat designed to take down and subdue someone. If Shovey-Henry decided to attack now, would he even make it far enough to encounter the 'Welcome Party' that would be coming the other way?
Wolf's anger was fading from its original white heat. He was still angry at the arsehole - who was showing no signs of abandoning his violence despite being told to back down by two people with no skin in the fight, one of whom seemed to be his friend - but he was no longer at the point that he would derive immense pleasure from driving a fist into the wanker's testicles or from drawing blood from a split lip or smashed nose.
The lizard-person called out again, this time with more force and ordered Shovey-Henry to stop... which he did.
The lizard-person then confirmed that he had slipped and that Henry's bullying behaviour was misguided. Would Shovey-Henry actually get the point this time? Or would he ignore this, too, and continue on his rampage?
Wolf watched as Henry searched the floor and followed his gaze from the lizard person back towards the fountain - there was a glistening trail. Of course! The lizard-person had been sitting on the rim of the fountain, their feet on the floor, and facing out into the room... which meant that the huge tail would have been in the water! That certainly explained where the water had suddenly come from. One mystery solved! Only one remaining, now, was how Henry had managed to avoid ending up in prison thus far, given his attitude and violent tendencies.
Wolf could see the change in Shovey-Henry's demeanour and knew that the penny had finally dropped. The huge bloke turned back, visibly drawing in a breath. Oh, this was gonna be good!
Unfortunately, all Henry seemed to be able to manage was 'Look, man... I... Ah, fuck.' before lapsing into an embarrassed silence. The bloke was 'erudite' as fuck when accusing people of being gang members and wife beaters; not so much when it came to admitting fault.
At this point the besuited security guard stepped forward and asked Wolf if Henry was bothering him. Henry began to answer - as if the security guard, who had been standing nearby and had witnessed the whole fiasco, had been under the impression that Wolf was at fault. Wolf gave the huge bruiser a 'what the fuck?' look.
Wolf turned his attention to the security guard. Is this person bothering you? Hmmm. The guard had to be aware of what had happened so the question most likely really meant, 'do you want me to dispose of this person for you?' which brought to mind the question of how assault was handled here. Did you have to formally press charges? If so, then saying to the local security, 'yes, this bastard just assaulted me' would be the first step in that.
Wolf looked over at Henry, who was covering his eyes, muttering and looking thoroughly embarrassed. The kid clearly had never encountered gang members in his life - if he had, he never would have taken Wolf for being one - but at the rate he was going, he'd get every opportunity to encounter and study gang members... while sharing a cell block and exercise yard with them. All it would take to ensure that Shovey-Henry quickly learned the difference between gang members and regular people who preferred motorcycles as a means of transport, would be a few words to the security guard.
Wolf was no longer pissed off enough that the satisfaction of "getting a few good licks in" would be sufficient compensation for getting well-and-truly beaten up by someone, but he was still plenty wild.
With a glance back at the security guard he turned his attention fully to Henry, his voice firm with an edge of clear annoyance. "Are you bothering me, Mr 'All-Bikers-Are-Scummy-Gang-Members'? Or do you have a brilliant reason why I shouldn't be pressing assault charges against you right now? And while y're at it, if you c'n come up with a better term for 'someone who makes inaccurate negative judgements about people based purely on what they look like' than 'bigot', I'm all fuckin' ears! And spare me your post hoc rationalisation bullshit - you're the one who ranted about gang members right before y'tried t'shove me over."
Leaving Henry to contemplate how best to avoid a prison sentence, Wolf looked around. He could see that Imes was still tending to the lizard-person and that Iveya and Aseyu had moved out of range of being accidentally hit - but not so far that they couldn't intervene if they chose to.
As the lizard-person was now in a fit state to sit up and talk, Wolf turned his attention to them. "Sorry I startled you. Are you OK?" His voice held none of the anger he felt for Henry as the lizard-person had done nothing to rouse his ire.
His nerves were still jangling after the close brush with violence, but he could feel his anger gradually lessening. He had no intention of pressing charges, but he did want the kid to at least stop and really think about what the consequences of his violence could be.
Edited by Wolf1066 on Mar 19th 2024 at 12:15:10 AM
she/her friend to the hooved
Lancer, Hub Town, Hotel, near reception >>> Fountain
Adrienne's restraining hold on Henry ceased as it became clear that hostilities had been (at least for the moment) defused, that raised hand falling down by her side, her firm glare softening.
By this point, the stoat's head was starting to throb. Not from exertion—that had been trivial, compared to the pigs earlier—but from proximity to so many other people. Lessened though her powers had been, she still couldn't fully block out the cumulative noise, especially not when emotions were running high.
Stepping back and away, she didn't let on about that growing headache, as much as she was tempted to shut her eyes and massage the bridge of her snout, maybe ask Aseyu about that suite she'd mentioned. She didn't show discomfort like that, not if she could avoid it, because too many times she'd been the only one who could help; the only one who could hold back a dam failure, the only one who could reroute the flow from a volcanic eruption, or divert a hazardous asteroid, or fight a murderous planet-destroying android to a standstill. No one wanted to see a superhero falter.
That wasn't the case anymore. This was a minor accident and a thankfully-averted scuffle. She didn't need to be strong and resolute—she wasn't even fully in-suit anymore, cape off and cowl down, having been expecting some downtime as she entered the hotel.
She stepped back and away from everyone, toward an area of the lobby near the fountain that wasn't so crowded. Here, where the psionic noise was lesser, she instead focused on the sound of the trickling water as she sat down on the edge, keeping on eye on the ongoing situation until she was confident things weren't going further downhill. After a moment of this, she exhaled sharply and finally allowed herself to shut her eyes until the headache died down.
"Fuck's sake." she muttered to no one but herself.
Edited by Chortleous on Mar 18th 2024 at 11:42:31 AM
[Hotel - Lobby (Wolf; Ultra; Iveya, Imes; Joseph, Henry)]
Imes looked the young man over. He'd been sympathetic at first, but that sympathy eroded as the guy continued to refuse to listen. It took him a while to get it through his thick skull, didn't it? It was one thing to assume the worst. But to keep on like this... Old Clan politeness fought with irritation. There wasn't a doctor in Qorisa who hadn't seen someone like this hauled into a hospital bed because his mouth had condemned his body to an ass-kicking. Some, Imes knew firsthand, had secretly prayed that these kinds of idiot would be so kind as to bleed out on the street so the clinics could save their bandages and painkillers for people who hadn't brought this on their own head. Or at least, they did so until the idiot was their own kin. Because every dumb punk had kin who'd mourn them, wasn't that the truth?
Imes looked over at Wolf and said, "you've made your point. Let the kid be." There was a particular firmness to this last sentence. I got this. Then he turned to Henry, "as for you... you wanted to protect your friend, and weren't gonna go crying to the gendarmes. I get that. As for how you went about it..." he shook his head in unspoken disappointment. "How about me and you have a little conversation about how a man handles this kinda situation?" His tone was kind, but firm. Fatherly... or perhaps Henry could read it as condescending. But if he wanted to be treated like an adult, shouldn't he act like one?
Continuing his little speech, Imes said, "I ain't a stranger to how it feels to lose my temper myself." He glanced briefly and apologetically to Ultra before returning his attention to Henry. Imes met Henry's eyes as he spoke, and held that gaze. It was not a cruel or judgmental stare; from a Western lens, it was entirely unremarkable eye contact. But Wolf and Ultra would already have enough context to realize it was quite different from how he'd been carrying himself up until that point. He was making a quiet statement of some kind. "Been where you at. Wounded pride scars sure as flesh, and I ain't gonna pretend you didn't deserve that new one." That last was a harsh statement, Imes knew, and he made sure he was standing ready for an ill-advised reaction from Henry. Imes was not a large man, certainly not as large as Henry, but nobody was big when they were finding out firsthand just how far backwards their wrists could go. Wouldn't be right to toss the kid on the hard tiles and risk injuring him, but a standing armlock, released after a moment to make his point, might not earn the guard's ire. However, despite his stance, his tone remained level and even.
Iveya had her doubts about al this. Imes' advice was sure to be... atavistic. He hadn't taken offense in principle to Henry striding up to a stranger ready to brawl. (Much as Imes himself had.) Just the execution. Then again... Imes' approach had led to a lot less misery than Henry's had. Maybe that was enough?
So she headed over to Wolf and said, "need a drink? I'll cover the first round." To the group, she added, "that goes for anyone else as well. The Gods don't hate money, but they won't abide a miser." Then, more quietly, she told Wolf, "if I had a coin for every time I saw a scene like this..." A weary sigh. "The Empire has more violent young fools than she knows what do with."
[Hotel - Fountain (Lancer; Aseyu)]
"Hey." Aseyu spoke softly as she took a seat near, but not too near, Adrienne. "I can't imagine how loud all of that must have been for you," Aseyu said. "Emotions running high and all..." she paused, not wanting to assume too much. Finally, she just said, "anything I can do to help?"
She glanced over at Hadia as she continued along her path, but Aseyu wasn't deeply familiar with Western Amalgamated's hierarchy. The tipsy woman in what Aseyu would only be able to describe as an "anime shirt" failed to register as especially important.
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 19th 2024 at 5:39:33 AM
she/her friend to the hooved
Lancer, Hub Town, Hotel, Lobby Fountain
Though Adrienne couldn't sense Aseyu herself approaching, she'd already learned by this point to track the void the woman created. Air wasn't visible, but bubbles were.
That, and her footsteps.
"I'd like a shower." she conceded in an effort to lighten the mood, arms crossed under her chest as she thought over how to approach this subject, and how to convey lived experiences that she reckoned were wholly alien to the human. Maybe they weren't. Maybe the two had common ground.
"I don't deal with people, not really. Can't." she began, recounting the following as if it were the most routine, banal thing imaginable. "The way this usually goes... from the Moon, I spend a lot of my time watching monitors. Communications from Earth, broadnet, satellite, until I'm either called or something happens, something big. Something local authorities, local supers, no one else can handle, not without collateral."
Eyes open, she looked over toward the ongoing situation. "Then I fly across to Earth and I take care of it. I hold the dam, I divert the pyroclastic flow, I stop the asteroid, I make sure everyone is alright, and then I go back before the noise of billions of nervous systems gives me a brain hemorrhage. Repeat for... what? 10 years?"
She then reached down into a suit pocket and produced the pink gem she'd been wearing on her cowl earlier, turning it over in her fingers before gently tossing it upward and telekinetically holding it in midair for a moment, then letting it fall back down into her open palm. "Point being, I'm not used to this. Not used to just... being here."
A shrug. "I can't ask anything of you, of anyone, but if you're going to offer, then yeah. Shower and a change of clothes."
Edited by Chortleous on Mar 19th 2024 at 11:04:12 AM
[Hotel - Fountain (Lancer; Aseyu)]
Aseyu was, by nature, a people person. She loved being in the spotlight, at the heart of things. She couldn't imagine staying sane if she had Adrienne's... powers? Condition? "That sounds..." she shook her head, and trailed off. What more could she say?
Then an idea came to Aseyu. "If you'd be interested," she said, carefully, "I can... temporarily disable these kinds of abilities. It's all-or-nothing, I'm afraid, and I can't imagine it feels great." She examined her hands, flexing her fingers. "I'll spare you the story, unless you really want to hear it, but it's something a lot of us Suelasa had to learn... about ten years back."
Strange, wasn't it? She absentmindedly muttered a thought aloud, but with an oddly dark tone: "with great power comes great responsibility."
She cleared her throat, realizing what she'd said out loud, then hurried along. "Of course, I wouldn't do anything like that without your consent. And either way, yes, I can offer you the shower and the change of clothes. I can't promise they'll all fit, but at least I have some clothes that are meant to be loose, so I'm sure it'll work out."
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 20th 2024 at 6:17:28 AM
she/her friend to the hooved
Lancer, Hub Town, Hotel, Lobby Fountain
The stoat glanced over at Aseyu, clearly bothered by the notion of shutting off her powers even on a temporary basis. She tried not to blame the other woman for that, though. "No," she replied after a sigh, tone softening to something scarcely above a whisper, looking back down at the gem. "I made a choice, years ago, after my powers started to grow, when I started feeling the noise, started getting migraines. Doctors said I had to take power suppressant medication or else it'd kill me, and I did for a while, but..."
"But I knew I could help people like this, stop accidents no one else could, with these powers. I knew I couldn't live with myself if something happened that I could have prevented. And, you know, I could fly—you know that feeling?" she explained, punctuating that last remark with a wistful smile before leaning back from what had been somewhat of a slouched posture, gazing up at the leaves of the great metal tree that made up the fountain's centerpiece. "So I saw them building colonies on the moon, where there wasn't any life, and I figured out another way. Always is."
"Besides, it's... part of me, now. Part of my perception, how I see the world."
A look back over. "So... yeah. What about that story of yours? I guess it's only fair we trade."
[Hotel - Fountain (Lancer; Aseyu)]
Aseyu simply nodded at what Lancer said. The topic would be dropped. Still, one thing did stick in Aseyu's mind. The desire to help.... the desire for power... those were so intertwined, weren't they? Not that Aseyu was in any position to judge. She, too sought power because she believed she, and people like her, could wield it better than others.
She shook her head. Later, perhaps. "My faith, the Suelasa, are a minority in Qorisa. Perhaps one percent of the population across the Empire, if that... though in Oriyith, where I live, it's more like five percent." Ah, perhaps that important clarification. "Don't think we're some kind of oppressed minority, though. A foreign power made that mistake, quite recently... and we made sure they paid dearly for their insult. The Empire's laws are clear: every Imperial citizen has the right to follow their faith. We are Qorisayane." Lancer might notice a hint of defensiveness, but what Aseyu said was how she truly felt. Even if not all Qorisayane always agreed...
Yes, but she getting to that, wasn't she? Aseyu continued. "Most Qorisayane have a Suelasa cousin somewhere in the family tree. Lots of intermarriage, syncretism..." a soft laugh as she added, "even anyone who has ever craved restaurant noodles on a Xayusa holy day has reason to accept their Suelasa neighbors." Then, more seriously, "these kinds of things are never all citrus and petals, though. Every so often, you get some 'concerned citizens' who think one percent is too much. Normally, this kind of thing is quite illegal under the Unity Acts... along with many things that should be legal, but that's neither here nor there."
"About fifteen years back, some voidborn led by a founded a little cult called the Children of Light." Ah, she wouldn't know what those were, would she? "Mages are made, not born, in Qorisa... except for the rare voidborn. You saw the powers Ethani wields. How she needs to keep them on a short leash. Just try and imagine what they'd do, given free reign to mold a vulnerable child. Most voidborn have their powers nullified as soon as they reveal themselves, or end up having to be put down before adulthood. Don't judge us: they're worse than you think. However, this voidborn was clever. The daughter of a major bureaucrat and managed to make it to adulthood without directly revealing herself... aside from the mutilated animals and high rate of suicide in her neighborhood."
Aseyu will be continuing her story, but giving Lancer a chance to consider and comment on what she's heard so far.
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 21st 2024 at 8:55:28 AM
< Hub Town - Hotel, B1 (Blue oblong chamber) >
The sound of Amandus's voice, louder (or rather nearer) than expected, gave Joseph a start. He stared at the murky space from which the man's voice emanated until, very slowly, the faint silhouettes of him and James began to resolve out of the engulfing dark.
"Oh! There you are. Phew," he glanced at the floor, almost able to make out a grill pattern in the dim, steadily-growing light, "for a second I thought maybe you'd fallen down one of those moleman waterslides."
Despite the unsettling suddenness of the glowing blue blobs' emergence, the collective light they cast did help. The sight was as compelling as it was foreboding; eeriness offset by mysterious beauty. He took a few steps toward the center of the chamber, turning slowly, swaying his large tail high in his enthused curiosity. His large eyes sparkled as he circled his head in an arc, following the speckling of blue up from the walls, across the domed ceiling and back down again.
The long, tapering arm he'd seen from the initial oblong orb was not alone, with each new bead emerging along the length of a similar arm, extending out to the edges of the chamber, not quite uniform, but perhaps cultivated. The image struck against an imminent idea forming in his mind, a guess at the nature of the chamber, but it didn't yet catch.
With a half smile that scarcely disguised his awe, he asked, "What do you guys think? Is this where they grow new light bulbs?"
this place needs me here
she/her friend to the hooved
Lancer, Hub Town, Hotel, Lobby Fountain
For the most part, Adrienne was content to listen. Even parts of the story that truthfully bothered her—notions of an 'empire' still didn't evoke the greatest image in her mind, bringing to the forefront what people like Vern Prescot had tried to do not so long ago, nevermind national pride that reminded her all too much of the Iron Reach's ideals—she didn't see fit to pass judgement. This wasn't her world or her place to speak, and for whatever it was worth, Aseyu clearly wasn't the xenophobic sort.
One part, though, inspired a comment.
"Like I've said before," she spoke up, idly fiddling with the gem. "magic is a learned skill where I'm from, a rare one. One group, the Firewalkers... basically a cult, insular and conservative, believe themselves to be protecting sacred knowledge by hoarding it, keeping it 'pure'. Teaching their children to use it—wielding raw flame, hence the name—but not letting them leave. Controlling everything they did, who they knew, what they watched and read..."
"Then one left, 'got sick of them sitting with their thumbs up their asses', to hear her say it. Same reason I kept my powers, wanted to use them to help people." the stoat recounted with clear fondness before she got quiet again. "She lost control once on-scene, one of those things I had to step in for, had to reach into her mind and shut off her connection to her magic for a time before she burned herself alive. Turns out when all you know comes from a weird cult, it doesn't prepare you for the outside world, how to adapt, account for things... no real support network for those powers either, and what you got from the cult was conditional."
Voidborn and the urgency with which they were regarded reminded her more of something altogether different that she didn't voice: Hostile psychics. Something had to be fundamentally wrong with a person, to be able to feel the pain and fear of others in a far more intimate fashion than most people ever could, and still abuse the ability. Invade minds, violating that innermost space, that sacred autonomy. There'd been one of those here, hadn't there?
But the notion of putting down children for it... did she believe Aseyu, that this was a necessary evil? She believed firmly that no matter the situation there had to be some other way, as naïve as it may have been, but she'd seen what Ethani could do firsthand. She'd seen what those psychics could do firsthand.
She didn't like thinking about it.
"Sorry, go on."
Kay, Ghost Town, General Store
Making her way deeper in, the place struck Kay as even creepier than it had been from the outside. Rotting and overgrown, it reminded her of the 'World of Potential', a shining city that had been rendered geologically unstable and partly flooded by a seismic weapon in one of the worst pointless calamities of the Downfall War. She dearly hoped this place wasn't a similar mass grave, but considering what sat next door...
Pushing that thought aside, she wondered for a moment if any supplies she'd find here would be intact and usable, because it was tough to judge how old this place really was. Perishables certainly wouldn't be, even if animals hadn't gotten to them first, while canned goods were a firm 'maybe'.
On that note, she soon came up on what appeared to be a general store, and one sporting a whole lot of empty shelves, she noted as she cautiously peered in through a shattered window, illuminating flame emanating from the empty air just in front of one outstretched hand. Of course it had been looted.
Moreover, it looked like there'd been a fight. Looking further into the store, and then at the abandoned buildings around her—the largest of which lay in freshly smoldering ruins, as did another farther off—the genet suddenly got that nagging feeling that whatever or whoever did this might not be far.
Edited by Chortleous on Mar 21st 2024 at 9:19:09 AM
[Hotel - Fountain (Lancer; Aseyu)]
"These Firewalkers," she said, "don't sound so different from the Children of Light... or at least, that would have been the plan if they'd lasted more than a decade."
"When I say mages are made," Aseyu continued, "it's not something that can be 'learned' conventionally. Aside from voidborn, a new one has to be inducted by an existing one." Aseyu realized the inevitable question just as the words left her mouth. "Yes, that does mean the first sanctioned mage was a voidborn. Our first Empress, in fact, four thousand years ago." Aseyu grimaced slightly as she recalled Xeqa's legacy: "don't think this means voidborn aren't dangerous, though. Xeqa was a cruel woman in a cruel age. May we never see her likes again."
"So, where was I? Right: the Children's voidborn leader could induct mages. And she did, weaving a nice little web of thralls across the city of Oriyith, up into the echelons of the Clans, preaching a particularly nasty and intolerant version of the Xayusa faith as she did so." Aseyu thought about this a moment. "Pretty classically fascist, come to think of it. Take anxieties about societal upheavals, salve them with an self-contradicting anti-modernist screed, spice with xenophobia, declare open contempt for the weak, and when in doubt, pin it all scapegoats that are somehow both all-controlling and degenerate weaklings." She tapped her chin and added, "so maybe it wasn't fair of me to compare your world's Firewalkers to the Children. There's something to be said for minding your business and leaving well enough alone."
Aseyu's mood then darkened. "Now. You tell me what happens when you give a bunch of deeply frustrated fascist men powers they can use to control and manipulate the minds of others, then tell them there is an entire group of their neighbors against whom any act is morally acceptable."
Edited by KillerClowns on Mar 22nd 2024 at 10:28:37 AM
< Hub Town - Hotel, Lobby (between the fountain and elevators) >
David chuckled at Claire's explanation. "Well, of course. What better way to begin an adventure than to have it thrust upon you by chance? You wake up one morning for a day of leisure and simple pleasures, and the next thing you know, you've stumbled into the first few steps of what could be the most important journey of your life." He paused, whiskers drooping as he frowned slightly and wondered if he wasn't tempting fate with those words. "...or just a curious diversion. We like those too, don't we?"
He kept at his faux swordsmanship as Claire went on, brandishing the sheathed blade in one hand as if he were about to fence with it, before taking it in both and lifting it overhead, ready to cleave a mountain. Each pose became more exaggerated than the last— it wouldn't have been clear that he was even listening amid his enthusiastic posturing if not for the regular glances he shot her way. The looks were intended to demonstrate his attentiveness, but between his stature and playful demonstration, he came across a bit more like a kid seeking approval.
However, when Claire mentioned entryways between their world and fairy realm, there was a slight pause in his movements, a slight shift in his demeanor, as though a chill wind had just broken through the controlled climate of the lobby. For a moment, he stopped entirely, staring and blinking blankly at the edge of the fountain. The sharp thud of something heavy hitting the floor briefly caught his attention, though he couldn't see through enough people to catch its source. It was enough, at least, to shake him to his senses.
Finally, he straightened up, lowering the sword and gripping it by its scabbard close to his chest. "Oh no. Oh, now you've done it." He groaned, shaking his head with a rueful grin as he handed the sword back, "I fear the knight in me won't settle down until I have one of my own. You know, I never have felt like a whole knight without a sword, but it's hard to justify when a more compact weapon can stop a fight before it's started." He scratched his chin, eying the sword even as he returned it, "still..."
Refocusing his attention on Claire, he flicked his hands back against his cheek fur, then gave his ears a swift, light pull, a quick primping that seemed paradoxically offhanded and flourishing, not all that unlike a man sharpening the ends of a prided mustache. "So, a vampire goddess. Truth be told, I wasn't under the impression a goddess would have much need for a castle; it strikes me as a little humble for that station. But maybe it's part and parcel with being a vampire." He listed on his fingers, "Nocturnal habits, fangs, bloodlust... castle." He lifted his gaze to her, cocking his head slightly, "How do you like it?"
< Hub Town - Hotel, B1 (Near the orb) >
Compelled by the strange blue light, Joseph drifted further down the basement hall ahead of Amandus and James, murmuring, "I'm gonna... go see."
At one point, he all but vanished from sight, lost within the depths of the shadow between the dim light above the elevator and the tenuous reach of the orb's luminance. But his silhouette still bobbed into view, briefly obscuring the orb ahead.
As he came closer, he could hear the sound of flowing water, though he couldn't quite pinpoint the source. Breaking through the almost hypnotizing draw of the orb was the sudden worry that the floor could give out, a trapdoor opening beneath his feet, dropping him down some demented waterslide. A waterslide that led to... a very poorly maintained pool. Or a pool exclusively for molemen. He certainly didn't want bad blood with the molemen.
A quick check at his feet revealed dark that looked just about as dark as the dark ahead, the dark behind, and the dark of his feet. It still felt like stone, or concrete, or whatever material the rest of the hall had been— the kind he feared more in anticipation of stubbing a toe rather than surprise trap doors. It was reassuring enough, and he pressed on.
The water flow gradually grew louder and then began to spread out, becoming more encompassing. In one step, the acoustics all changed, as did the air. The floor had changed as well, feeling more like a fine grille than anything solid. Joseph hopped backwards, lifting his tail in the same motion and giving it a probing sweep to make sure he wasn't going to collide with anyone. Back in the dark hall, he hesitated, toying with the ends of his neck-draped towel as he looked ahead. The orb was very close now, he could almost make out clear edges that bounded the blue light within. It wasn't just a solid blue either, there were fascinating patterns, swirling, twisting, ever unsettled within it.
Swallowing, he slid his towel off of his neck and gripped it between his hands, as though he might smother any would-be assailants, or tactically irritate unusually sized creepy crawlies with it. Armed and going anyways, he ventured back into the orb chamber, shuffling carefully yet speedily over the grill, and glancing to his left and right as he approached the glowing artifact, until he was close enough to be seen under its cool light.
Fascinated, yet too cautious to touch just yet, he looked down the hall from where he'd come—spotting it in the dark by the now even dimmer light of the elevator archway—and waved to the two men, beckoning them over, hoping there was enough light for them to make out the gesture in full.
this place needs me here