War with D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.

[spoofer]

Characters: Ensemble cast, any/all characters of Xistentia!
Summary: D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. comes to Xistentia for the first time, bringing with it violence and havoc. Combat against enemy agents, healing, emergency sanctuary, and "Drift Compatibility" happen here. Refer to the OOC plotting post and the mod announcement!
Date(s): November 4-18
Warnings/Notes: Violence, death, psychological themes, trauma. Please warn for anything else in your subject headers!

WAR WITH DESTINY

By headsman's blade or battle-axe

Fight For Your Life

Everything is, in short, super fucked. Era Ra's warning came at the right time, forewarning of some of the weapons and fighting styles that could be expected from D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s agents, but still, the people of Xistentia have not faced a force like this before. The ragtag combination of fighting styles and tactics promises both versatility and confusion.

For better or worse, D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. is in similar chaos.

The first to come are ships from the Western sea, bearing a mix of warriors in and monsters. Some wield old-fashioned steel swords and others bear laser blasters, and their armor is just as varied. Some creatures appear domesticated, while others are feral and snap at their own. However, one primary feature identifies the enemy: their war color is red, which adorns flags and uniforms. Interestingly, the sea and sky of Xistentia seem to be fighting back in their own way, massive waves and a storm, even animals pestering them as they attempt to land the beach. However, it's only a matter of time before the mainstay of their forces reach land, some two hundred fighters. It's then that sentient fires start to whirl into the forests, leaping from tree to tree.

You have the home court advantage. Even the foliage itself seems to cooperate with you, aiding in efforts for stealth by keeping you downwind, twigs failing to crack when you misstep. Soon, you're joined by Xistentia's other forces-- a handful of battered ships taking air, an odd assortment of elves and talking dogs, demons and aliens from outer-space, coordinating counter-attacks.

BATTLE MODE: ATTACK

You're locked in combat with a woman who seems oddly familiar, though you don't know her face and can't think of her name. You hit her in the head, and now a narrow slice of her face shows through her red-rimmed helm. She wields a rifle tipped with a heavy blade, though it crackles with electrical energy. She is a proficient swordswoman, deftly parrying and striking against you, her face eerily expressionless. Her blade has a switch that, when activated, will send out a net that numbs your limbs and drags you to the floor. Here's hoping you won't face this demon alone.

She's not your only problem. You may have noticed, that in every epic battle with evil wizards, there's always some kind of a problematically gigantic elephant. This is one of those days. At least, there's only one, its trunk as wide as a car, its feet moving slow, so that it might crush the trees rather than trip over them.

Fight one or both, or fight the hordes of nameless minions around them. Either way: there's plenty to do. Those of you who thought things were too quiet here? You'll be busy today.

SEEK SANCTUARY

Fighting isn't for you? Well, you'll want to get out of the way, then. The "wards" protecting the city are failing, and people are heading toward The Temple where the protections remain the strongest. Here, the injured need healing in the stone beds. The civilians do their best, comforting children, cooking food, trading intelligence, repairing weapons and armor where possible. Feel free to pitch in; they need all the help they can get.

BATTLE MODE: SUPPORT (PSYLINK)

And here, you've reached the Temple, you've laid yourself down on one of the many glass-and-stone beds within the safety of its stone walls. You know what the other Xistentia residents have told you about it— this is the next phase, after the memory share had raised shields against the psychotropic rain. This is the PsyLink. Through this bond, you are said to be able to activate special defenses. No one seems to know exactly what they are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And beyond the Temple walls, times are desperate indeed.

Each drift requires at least two people. Your daemons will find and connect you, seemingly at random— and you may find yourself with the unlikeliest of partners.

Drift Compatible

The Kissing Booth participants find it easiest. Everyone else-- it's a wild jumble, finding yourself caught up in a firehose of not only your own memories, but that of someone else. Everything they think, everything they feel, is intertwined with your mind.

You can't get caught up in it. You have to let the memories of the past, your predictions for the future, and the terror of war flow in and out of you, without neither resistance or pursuit, gently tuning them out. And in this serenity, this psychic silence, this acceptance of not only yourself but the other other, you find perfect connectivity— harmony with your PsyLink partner.

In this space, you find yourself having strange conversations. You and your partner will share ghostly images, some of which seem to be images from the past— while others seem to be present-day moments from the battle outside, fighting the enemy, as if you are somehow in two places at once. You must find traction and stay in the now and stay calm, but it's harder than you think.

The instant you latch onto that memory or emotion, it's a mistake... but you forget.

Your shadow is here. Whether out-of-context, or right here where it was meant to be, it's trying to kill you.

But you're not trapped here alone. Someone is calling your name, a familiar voice in the pandemonium. That voice comes from your drift partner. It's up to them to pull you back, remind you of who you are, and balance you. Hold on to them - they're your anchor, but you'll have to do the same for them. A successful drift means helping each other. Do it well, and you'll help to power the temple's defences. Fail, and there'll be trouble for everyone seeking sanctuary here.

Comments

loki (ota)

[dothelokimotion]

[ a. And I fell right into a burning ring of fire ]

[ It was too hot. Loki tugged at his collar as he threw a few illusionary doubles around him, his knives unerring finding their targets. With a quick magical flick of his fingers, he recalls them, gripping them tightly in his hands. His illusions were always his best line of defense as they circle around the invaders, taunting and laughing. However, illusions were no shield and even his usual telekinetic aura cannot repel a larger blast at close range.

Loki grabbed one invader by the neck, crushing the windpipe instantly. He drops him immediately, stepping over the carnage. Fires had erupted around the forest. On any other day, he would have leaped to find out how this place worked in their favor but even while the flames did not touch him, he can barely breathe . . .

He blinks owlishly, focusing on whoever is close. Not red. He clears his dry throat. ]

I don't suppose you have any water on you?

[ b. he doesn't care (no really) ]

[ Healing is not one of his arts. His natural ability to heal does most of the work for him. Eir, of course, had passed along some basic training. Every warrior needed it after all and Thor had all the grace of a one-legged duck. He could never sit still either, constantly needing to move and act and jostle his wounds until the healers threw their hands at him, exasperated and called for Loki, just make him stay —

Well. That was a long time ago. Loki lets the moment pass, but some urges are too ingrained. He can even hear Eir's voice, telling him he's doing it wrong as he watches some poor fool struggle to finish his splint or apply the medicine. Finally he snaps, annoyed. ]

Give it here before you make it worse.

[ c. wildcard ]

[ write your own starter / pm me for an idea at captainkink or this journal / plotting comment ]

A.

[astralera]

[ Despite the impressive display, Era takes no time to admire Loki's combat prowess. While he took care of his opponents she focused on her own, taking them down with preternatural skill and efficiency. The heat of the fire doesn't bother her - her first memories are of the desert and she adapted to the dry, scorching heat very quickly. It's the cold that consistently gives her pause.

Immediate vicinity cleared of opponents, she takes the moment to turn her attention to Loki. His query is answered as Era pulls a small jar of water out from somewhere, tossing it to him with her free hand. Studying him, it seems as though he could use more than just some water. And she could use a minor healing herself, so it only makes sense to cast a quick Clemency spell; holding her sword and shield in front of her as she focuses her aether, bringing a halo of light into existence above each of their heads to shine healing rays down on them both.

It isn't as powerful as it would have been had Era been fighting as any of her healing jobs, but it's enough to lessen any serious injuries to something more minor and fully heal any minor ones. The added bonus of being healed herself when casting it on another is nice, fully healing a cut on her scalp and easing the pain of a particularly uncomfortable abdominal injury. ]

I have some healing potions to spare. [ Era decides to let him infer her meaning himself, as it should be obvious enough. Do you want any to carry with you?. ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki shakes his head, waving off her concern though he does shoot her a grateful smile. He is not wholly without some manners and the water is a balm on his parched throat. He has never lingered too far into extreme environments and now he wonders how much of a disadvantage his biology truly is. Ignoring it does not seem to help, in this case. ]

I am fine and I heal quickly. It is merely — [ He coughs, rubbing his throat raw. ] — the heat. I am unused to it.

[astralera]

[ Era can understand that, somewhat. While she thrives in the heat Aymeric is quite the opposite, having lived for so long with the frigid temperatures of Ishgard. She tends to keep a few chilled drinks on hand for when they happen to wander to the beach... Perhaps it's not the most battlefield appropriate drink, but as a fellow magic user Loki might appreciate the slight boost to his magic stamina in addition to the chill from a serving of frozen spirits.

She digs one out of her inventory as well, along with a spare Ether (one can never have too many magical stamina recovery items, after all) and holds both out for him to take if he likes. ]

It's a slush of fermented Cloud Bananas and Old World Figs. [ She gestures to the Frozen Spirits, and then the Ether. ] And the bright yellow potion restores some magical stamina.

[dothelokimotion]

[ He blinks, looking completely lost to the gesture. After a few long seconds, Loki takes it quietly, glancing at her as if she might suddenly take it back, as if it might be a joke at his expense. When no such thing happens, he nods with a dry swallow. ]

Ah . . . thank you.

b

[novelizes]

[ jughead knew going into this that he'd be no help anywhere. but after his laptop died and his stomach rebelled against the thought of taking photos of the injured, he's been trying to help at least a little.

apparently he's doing a shit job of it, though. and as he's rebuked, he releases the bandage and holds his hands up. ]

Hey, at least I was trying. Not all of us are cut out for sudden new worlds and their wars.

[dothelokimotion]

No?

[ Loki clicks his tongue as he unrolls the bandage, eyeing the quality of it with a dubious look. ]

That seems like a failing of your educational system.

[novelizes]

[ to which jughead just shrugs. ]

What can I say, the American school system isn't known for being ahead of the curve.

[dothelokimotion]

[ America. Loki keeps his eyes on the wound as he wraps it gingerly. ]

Not New York, I take it.

b!! cw gendered slur

[jungianthing]

( it's not even that bad. it's a cut on his arm, deep enough that it's bleeding and stinging hot every time he touches it but shallow enough that he feels like a pussy for caring that it's there at all. and he's tried everything, but there's not much you can do with a bandage that has some stretch and only one hand. he's no contortionist. (the glass over the face of his watch is cracked and there's an ugly dollop of blood seeping into the fissure line, and he doesn't want to think about that, so he won't.) every time he tries to wrap the bandage after setting it in place, it unwinds itself from around his arm and he's back at square one. he holds the loose end of the bandage between his teeth, uses his free hand to hold the other end in place.

the waspish command makes him jump a little, and the bandage falls into his lap. he turns his head, seeking out a face to match with the voice in the low light. ) You scared the shit out of me, bro.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki merely raises an eyebrow at that. He fails to see how, considering he wasn't trying very hard to be commanding or secretive. A new arrival, no doubt. Loki has only been here a few days but that's all he needs to acclimatize himself. Other people are less lucky. Loki grabs the bandage and waits for a cue to get to work. ]

Are you less terrified now?

[jungianthing]

( he holds out his arm, lips pressed together, expression grim and resigned. )

Yup. ( there's an element of physicality to the way he has to clamp down on the urge to say yes sir instead. his leg is shaking up and down, constant and quick, heel pitched up off the floor, and the resulting movement is a tectonic shift in his body, rolling up to his arm. he's nowhere near still. ) Don't worry about it, man, you're not that scary. ( that hair kind of is, though. )

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki grins, a flash of white teeth. ]

No? Give it time.

[ Still, he does not point out the shakes. It is not an act of kindness, for Loki will certainly remember it, but at the very least, Loki is fairly disinterested. It doesn't take a great deal to ignite his curiosity, but Loki grew up in a world built on war and constantly searching for an excuse to fight. He's seen enough to know where such reactions stem from. ]

Lift your arm, mortal.

a;

[hasitsthorns]

[ In the midst of the flames, there comes a burst of chill. It doesn't fade despite the surrounding heat. The source is Rose, her ki- It's not quite magic, but similar and thus the cold front she conjures up has unusual properties. As long as she has the focus and energy to maintain it, it won't waver but can be interrupted by outside force.

It also has a very small radius so, hello, Loki. She's a little closer than even for her comfort but this will help with the heat at least. ]

It's not water, but this is the best I can do right now. [ Though she sounds the same, Rose looks vastly different from before. Much more snow-white than the gold he likely remembers. Claws, fangs, and more lupine features. ] It also won't stop these guys from trying to kill us so, y'know. Better to keep moving.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki hisses, a flicker of blue passing over his skin at the sudden cold but thankfully, his magic keeps his guise up. He glances at her, taking in her new appearance. ]

It will do.

[ The cold seeps into his body with a shudder. Already Loki feels much better. His knives come back out, settling themselves firmly in his grip. ]

And they can try.

[hasitsthorns]

Glad it's good enough for you, [ she quips, just a little sarcastic. He can ignore the sweat on her furrowed brows. She'll blame it on the heat - that they can't feel - and not the fact that she's needing to concentrate super hard to keep this up. ]

You seem like you're used to this.

[ A casual observation. ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Another double gets his attention and Loki casually throws a knife at a man's throat. Barely a gurgle. Loki doesn't even look. ]

I've been fighting since I could walk.

[ Loki will never be a force of strength like Thor, but he is, by no means, incapable. It would take a being of much greater power to truly test him and even then, Loki would find a loophole. A weakness to exploit. He's patient, a tactical mind constantly working. He never pushes himself further than he needs to. ]

b

[drapes]

[ it also helps the person he's trying to apply medicine on is that self same brother that loki got all his practice mending back together after foolish, reckless fights. there's a good chance that the medic is having issues mostly from thor being his typically thor self, fidgeting around, reaching for other things while healing is happening, trying to talk to other people, messing with his daemon for updates on the fight, trying to text while this poor probably untrained person his trying to clean a gash across his arm.

it's loki's voice that has him actually looking up to pay any kind of mind to the person trying to keep his wound from getting grossly infected and horrible, letting out a short snort with a half quirked smirk, waiting until the other medic shuffles off in exasperation before muttering lowly - ]

Even I could tell it was being done wrong.

[ no that he could've done any better, but look, he could tell. and that's the important part here.]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki pointedly rolls his eyes as he tugs Thor's arm closer, laying it on top of his knee as he unravels the shoddily made bandage and tossing it to the side. This feels achingly familiar and Loki grits his teeth to push it away. ]

And yet you chose to do nothing about it. Longevity and an enhanced healing factor does not prevent infection.

[ Thor should know. That's how Loki "died" after all. A death he still does not know how he escaped. His changeling blood, perhaps? ]

[drapes]

[ thor still scrolls through the network showing on the side of mjolnir's metal, but he's markedly less fidgety. perhaps too many stabs of bony knuckles into his sides have taught him something over the years, of loki himself is a calming presence in ways thor doesn't seem to notice himself. ]

It'll be closed in a couple hours' time. [ the man grumbles, picking his head up to try to peer through a window as another exploding sound comes from somewhere beyond the safe haven they've set up. he should be out there, not here. ] I've already been sitting here near that long.

[ it's been half an hour, thor, shut up. that, and, there's other bruises and wounds across his body that had him sent to sit and heal for a time, he just hasn't bothered reporting them, arms too obvious to hide. ]

[dothelokimotion]

That is no excuse to bleed over the floor.

[ Loki fishes for the new roll, unwinding it with ease. The blood gets onto his clothes, but Loki is used to that and more than capable when it comes to removing blood stains. His fingers skim the cloth, nostalgia filling up his senses, lavender in the bowls as Eir would drift across the healing halls, giving everything she saw a cool appraising look of approval.

Having Thor here meant that he was alive, untouched by what destruction wreaked across the cosmos. Loki is glad for that. It's not a secret. But having Thor here brought back the melancholia that always seems to tinge every remembrance of the past. It is not deliberate, just . . .

He closes his eyes, pained, going about his work. ]

a or b

[anewhero]

a] [ Marcus ignored the sentient fires, he felt the heat near him sure, but terminators were used to this kind of thing.

The terminator hybrid held the creature by the neck and squeezed throwing them into another being. ]

"Sorry pal, don't even have it on me."


b] Healing

Marcus ignored looking at the man named Loki several times before admitting he would need help to try and fix some things.

He muttered "Give what here?" He was wrapping his arm with some bandages.

[ b ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki gives him a flat look. ]

What do you think? Your arm, of course.

Re: [ b ]

[anewhero]

Marcus grunts and then holds out his arm "Make it quick."

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki gives him a flat look as he gets to work. ]

Not one for manners, are you?