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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
Damaged scales will shed on their own with time. They are duller than the others, usually visibly askew or bent, and a light tug will pull them free. It should only take a few minutes at most.
[ Era would rather not be in a public area for this however, regardless of whether or not anyone is paying her any attention. ] Is there a more private area available?
no subject
Sure. [she jerks her head to one of the more secluded spots, shrugging out of her own long black cardigan as she does] Best we can manage for a curtain, I'm afraid. But if anyone decides this the perfect chance to get a free peep, I'll happily show them one of the reasons I still wear rings with stones in them.
[she hasn't told Era much in that way; oh, she's talked about making men uncomfortable, but she hasn't mentioned that she actually knows how to hurt someone a little, but now seems as good a time as any]
no subject
she really doesn't have anything to be embarrassed about - she barely has any bust to speak ofEra appreciates the gesture, and quickly focuses on the crystal containing her sleepwear, instantly changing into her shorts and camisole. ]I believe Peki would beat you to it. [ She sounds amused, and also makes a note to make a ring for Mandy after everything is over.
The Chocobo in question is most definitely standing sentinel for them both, affording them more privacy than Mandy's cardigan alone could offer. ]
no subject
I'm sure he'd do as good if not better than some men I've paid for the job.
[she still wonders what Era makes of her comments like that; she's sure explaining her husband was a performer doesn't give near enough cultural context for them.
She licks her lips slightly as she gets close to Era] Have you had someone do this for you before? [it's said lightly, the way she'd ask the boys if they were used to having someone measure their inseam]
no subject
She makes sure to keep her tail unnaturally still so as not to accidentally hit Mandy with it. There are a few areas of scales that she would have trouble reaching on her own comfortably - the very base of her tail, the ones tapering to her lower back, and the ones on the backs of her arms.]
No. I have always let them fall out on their own if I can't reach them myself.
no subject
She does err on being a bit more cautious at first though, starting with Era's arms. And it is easy to see one that is obviously damaged, compared to the rest, and she reaches out gently to take one between her fingers--she'd use her nails if a few hadn't gotten broken, which frustrates her--and pulling carefully]
All right?
no subject
She doesn't feel the scale being pulled, but Era does feel the relief when it's no longer there. A new scale has already begun to grow where the damaged one had been - they never take too long to regrow. Perhaps a week, maybe two at the most. ]
Yes.
no subject
The problem there is part of her is itching to speak, make the same gossip she would with the boys, but here and now and with Era, that feels...wrong. But silence isn't anything she's ever been comfortable with; there was a reason she'd filled her life with electric guitars for so long]
The two of you are fighting together, aren't you? [she doesn't think she needs to say who she's talking about--she'd watched Era's panicked glance and had recognized the man she'd been with at the costume party] You seem well matched.
[maybe there's a note of longing there when she says that, missing having a partner who was a partner, but she won't admit to it]
no subject
Aymeric and I? Yes, we have been fighting as a team along with a few others. [ She takes what Mandy says into consideration and can see no inaccuracies with it. ] This isn't the first war we've fought together, so we are familiar with each other's strengths and weaknesses and can adjust accordingly.
[ Era can hear the strange tone of her voice, but can't quite place what emotion it is and doesn't wish to push the issue. If Mandy wishes to talk about it she would. Or at least Era hopes she would. ]
no subject
Yeah? That's good. [she coughs a little, knowing exactly what memories are sticking in her craw. She's good alone, she's strong alone, but there had been something in have someone who knew her well enough to finish her sentences, who for a few brief moments had moved in sync with her so they were almost the same person.]
That's good. [she repeats, a little softer] That's not the sort of thing a lot of people are lucky enough to have. And even fewer of us get to keep it. I certainly didn't recognize how rare it was when I did. [and even that much is a lot to admit, I had that and I couldn't hold on.
She can't let that sentiment linger too long though, or she'll get lost in it. So, she gives Era another look over before she stands, forcing that playful smirk that had kept so many people from seeing her bleeding heart. It doesn't fool Arthur anymore, and she's not sure it will fool Era, but the reflex is impossible to fight] And it can't hurt that he is rather good looking, by just about any world's standards. Might not make all this shite go away, but it's a nice distraction. I just hope he recognizes that he's quite lucky to have you at his side.
[or she might...well, all right, she's not sure if she could fight an actual soldier if he hurt a friend, but she'd sure try]
no subject
[ She has to actively repress the shiver that runs down her spine at the memory of one particularly unfit adventuring group. A headless corpse and dark rituals...
Era straightens as Mandy stands, catching a smirk that seems almost out of place. She puts it aside for the time being, nodding in agreement at Mandy's comment regarding Aymeric's attractiveness. It doesn't phase Era in the slightest - not when it's such a common fact of life in Ishgard.
The sky is blue, the grass is green, water is wet, and Aymeric de Borel is unfairly attractive. ]
He has made sure to inform me on various occasions how lucky he is to have met me. [ Which is... Well, it causes her to blush the tiniest bit. ] His people would likely still be at war with the Dravanians without my assistance.