![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
- #event,
- arthur stuart (velvet goldmine),
- aymeric de borel (final fantasy xiv),
- jace herondale (shadowhunters),
- jughead jones (riverdale),
- kenzi malikov (lost girl),
- kurt wagner (xmcu),
- loki (mcu),
- marcus wright (tsfb),
- mikaela hyakuya (sote),
- nico di angelo (chb),
- private joker (full metal jacket),
- rafaello d’este (oc),
- will solace (chb),
- wyatt lawson (oc)
War with D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
no subject
Ah . . . thank you.
no subject
no subject
I believe you.
[ Oddly enough. Loki tries not to think too hard about it. ]
I am simply unused to aid.
no subject
One day it will be less of a surprise.
[ Not today though - especially not on the frontlines of a war. There are more important things to think about at this moment. ]
If you go to the shore it will be cooler than the forest, though there is less cover.
no subject
I work better within cover. It makes my magic easier.
no subject
Though she pauses, thinking briefly for a possible solution. If the fires are bothering him but the open terrain would hinder his fighting... It's been long enough since she has been in active combat that it's possible for her to change jobs, and so she does - in the blink of an eye she switches from a well armoured sword-and-shield wielding paladin to a white cloaked cane wielding white mage.
A moment later and she's begun casting Protect; a shield that will activate in the face of any damage, mitigating a portion of it to make it more bearable. ]
This should be of assistance for some time.
no subject
Thank you.
[ Loki sounds a little baffled. ]
no subject
If you are ever need of assistance I am but a call away.
[ She does a cursory check of her shield, making sure that it's in acceptable shape before securing it to her left arm. ]
A warrior is only as strong as his or her allies.
no subject
I was never considered to be much of a warrior. Not enough muscle mass.
no subject
What does muscle mass have to do with being a warrior?
[ given that she's barely 90lbs including her horns and tail, and that she's met very formidable Lalafellin adventurers and warriors who are far, far more diminutive than she, this makes absolutely no sense to her ]
no subject
[ Read: a lot. Loki doesn't want to get into it right now though. Not when his own body chemistry is fighting him every step of the way. ]
no subject
You shall have to tell me more of Asgard when things are not so hectic.
no subject
Of course.
~*~ timeskip ~**~*~ :D
It's been a short while since parting with Mandy and Era's body still quivers as the adrenaline of battle continues wearing off, though she ignores it and focuses instead on checking up on her allies. Peki stays close to her side, occasionally bending his long neck down to preen her flyaway hair but otherwise remaining naught but a silent comfort.
Aymeric is fine with both Anima and her daemon keeping him company in a quiet corner, and Era feels no need to seek him out. It doesn't take her very long to glance over the rest of the temple's occupants from afar, reassuring Era that there have been no casualties as of yet that she's aware of. She hopes that doesn't change as the war continues.
Era checks on Loki the very last so that she might spend more time with him, having fretted for him the most out of all her companions. The terrain hadn't been favorable for him, and even if the man hadn't been injured by enemies it is entirely possible he sustained damage from the environment. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, of this Era is certain, but he also doesn't need to take care of himself all alone. This is something she only recently learned herself and is working on adjusting to (she need not do everything on her own) so she may not be the best person to try and impart this knowledge. That does not mean Era won't try, in her own way.
"Loki," Era greets, hand raised and voice soft - a noticeable change in tone from when they were on the battlefield. She maintains a polite distance, waiting for acknowledgement before stepping any closer. Better to approach a warrior with caution in such circumstances. "Are you well?"
no subject
Lady Era.
I am well enough . . . thanks to your efforts.
[ Even if it's still a little confusing to him why she bothered. ]
no subject
[ Era scans Loki briefly, using her eyes to see if there is anything pressing that might need healing. He's in much better shape than some, though she can't help but picture a flower wilting from the heat when she looks at him. It reminds Era of Aymeric suffering stoically through the unfamiliar heat what feels like many moons ago but what not, and Era imagines Loki would likely enjoy the climate of Coerthas. ]
Full glad am I to hear it. [ She offers a friendly smile. ] Though you still look a bit worse for wear. Have you rehydrated yet? I have many more potions on my person if you need another.
[ People in her own world wonder the same thing quite often. Why does she help when she has no affiliation or responsibility to them? Why lower herself to aiding with mundane, daily tasks? The answer is usually simply because she can. Though with Loki it's... different. They have only met once before the war, and spoken perhaps three times since his arrival, yet Era can't help seeing much of herself in him. A passion and talent for magic that sets them apart from most in their worlds. Well-concealed loneliness; uncertainty of one's value as a person rather than a weapon, and a cynicism that lingers under one's skin. The desire to constantly improve - to keep learning and growing stronger, because what else is there when it comes down to it, really?
Of course this is all just conjecture on Era's part. Perhaps she feels a kinship simply because Loki is a sorcerer and a scholar. ]
no subject
I will be fine. I simply do not fare well in the heat.
And . . . yourself?
no subject
That is something you and my companion have in common then. [ Her lips quirk with mild amusement. ] I am the same with the cold; my scales do not retain heat all too well.
[ And of course her most dear friends all resided in Coerthas, where she has never seen the ground free of snow. Era has grown used to the cold, though unfortunately that doesn't mean she is any more resistant to it. ]
I am well, thank you. [ She glances to the side, briefly lost in thought. ] I am most at home on the battlefield, so it would be no small feat for someone to cause me injury.
[ The fact that Era finds the war somewhat of a comfort to in all it's familiarity isn't something she is eager to think about in detail, and this is the closest she's gotten to admitting it out loud. ]
no subject
My . . . people do not injure easily. We are essentially immortal to most things.
[ Though Loki isn't Asgardian. Whatever is in his blood helps him pretend he is one though. ]
no subject
[ and now for a change subject before she has to offer return to battle - ] Once the war has been won I believe I can teach you how to perform some Eorzean magic. You would likely do well with arcanima.
no subject
When?
no subject
no subject
[ Still he's pleased and it shows from the faint crinkles around Loki's eyes. ]
no subject
[ his expression doesn't go unnoticed, and Era's own is pleased to match. ]
no subject
Why can't they maintain the assault? They know where we are while we have no idea where they might be located. Why have such a lackluster force when they have us cornered?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)