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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
Because Vanyel had been that angry once too, hadn't he? As he'd grown old enough to comprehend his place in society, and how few opportunities he really had on account of being poor and fatherless, and how limited those few opportunities were... so had his anger and resentment at his circumstances grown. He could so easily have followed the same path as Charlie; would have, perhaps, if he hadn't managed to get out of that life when he did.
He's more than willing to set those thoughts aside, though, as she starts to speak again. He starts to rub slow circles on her back, trying to ease that shakiness and uncertainty-
Then comes that apology, and while he hasn't had time yet to process everything he learned through the link, on some level he recognizes what she's trying to do with that apology, that attempt to pull away, and- his grip tightens, a response as automatic as hers in its own way. He's still running more on instinct than rational thought, and his every instinct is telling him not to let her go.]
Don't. [It's not quite a request, for all he says it softly.] Please. You promised- [And he doesn't mean for it to come out the way it does, raw with emotion, but he can't seem to help it.]
no subject
The draw from him ceases. Instead, Rose practically collapses back onto him. Her face is buried immediately into the crook of his neck, dampening his skin and collar. A shake sets into her shoulders as she sobs; sharp, painful noises that come in cut breaths and with so much sorrow behind them it's practically palpable.
This is the first time Rose has ever shown this side of herself to anyone. After Ren died, she didn't have time to mourn. After Roxanne, there was no else to share in that that grief. And after Charlie, she was thrust immediately into a choice given to her by a Eudio representative. Rose has carried all their deaths and all that meant on her own two shoulders for decades.
Even before them, he'd seen her upbringing. Her mother. Her father. The loneliness and isolation that came with being cast out by the only family she'd ever known. There was never anyone to share it all with, never anyone to know how hollowing and horrible it all was.
She's never allowed anyone this, never thought anyone would want to share these burdens with her. Never thought she was worth that and yet he's this man who loves her (and she'd felt that, in the drift) and wants her and is saying that he'll stay despite it all and- ]
I won't go, [ she rasps, in-between sobs that she still can't quite contain. Her vision is blurred and sinuses burn but she's resolute nonetheless. ] Not again. Not ever.
no subject
And how much she'd hate to know anyone else had seen her like this, once she's gotten enough of her composure back to care about that sort of thing.
So he casts two quick spells before his hand comes up to pet her hair, to shield them from being seen and heard. Illusion spells aren't his strong suit even now, so they're fragile things, liable to pop like soap bubbles under real scrutiny. But it's the best they can do for privacy at the moment.
His other hand rubs slow, soothing circles on her back. He doesn't say anything, though - what could he say? Him with his large, close-knit adoptive family, a mother and aunties who did the very best they could by him. With his other two great loves, if not safe and sound then at least whole, and some hope of seeing them again someday.
But because he does love her, fiercely and unshakably, so he offers her whatever comfort he possibly can, regardless.]
It... may not be entirely up to us. [He acknowledges quietly.] But if we should be separated again, even if only by chance... I'll come and find you, whatever it takes. I swear it.
no subject
Another sob is choked back in a futile attempt to calm herself. While she doesn't recognize the spells he's cast, she'd be grateful for them if she did. ]
You better, [ she answers. Her first attempt at levity since this all began. A sign, maybe, that she'll be alright after all. ] Not like I won't do the same damn thing.
[ And she means that, truly. She'd tear through time and space to find Vanyel again if F.A.T.E.S. or D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. tried to separate them. ]
no subject
Case in point: the spells seem to be holding for the moment, so he turns his attention back to comforting Rose.
Her attempt at levity draws a brief little smile out of him.] And if we both do our utmost to find each other again, how could we possibly fail?
[He asks lightly, tucking a few loose curls behind her ear. Because he certainly wouldn't do any less, to anything or anyone that tried to keep them apart.]
no subject
Rose wants the same and it almost hurts in a way. It hurts how close and yet simultaneously how far out of reach it seems. For someone who didn't think she'd live another day then suddenly having more borrowed time than she knew what to do with... It's painful to have a future planned that is such a big maybe.
Well, it won't be a maybe if she has anything to say about it. If he does. That's a small comfort right now. They'll make it happen, no matter what might try to stop them. ]
We won't, [ she answers, her voice evening out finally. She sniffles harshly, the shaking against him less harsh than before. ] I love you. More than anyone I ever have before. And that has to count for something.
no subject
Or the far future, for that matter. He knew before his birthday that he wanted her to at least come visit Tamriel, and it can't have been too long afterward that they started planning for her to come live with him there. But now...
Now, he finds he wants that future more fiercely than ever. That his willingness to fight for it, for her, has increased exponentially.]
I love you too. [He's said it before, of course, and meant it every time. But now, somehow, he means it even more. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and murmurs] Yes, it does.