MARCH TDM + SETTING UPDATES

[beleos]

BEARING FRUIT (NEW CHARACTERS ONLY)

It starts out as a pleasant dream. You’re in your favorite place, with your favorite people. It’s a moment of idyllic comfort.

And then, it goes wrong.

The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.

So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—

You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.

I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.

You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.

The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.

From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.

And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.

TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY

With the new Shard-Bearers present or en route, it is Kathova and Cetina that approach the established ones, requesting that they form mentorships with the new souls to assist them with the integration process. To this end, they have both provided a centralized zone in both Highstorm and Springstar for a small, casual meet-and-greet to be held before the new Shard-Bearers are unleashed upon Kenos as a whole.

Additionally, as Springstar and Highstorm are holding their events on different days, it is possible for the knowledge-hungry to participate in both informational sessions -- the tones and opinions held by both cities are doubtless to differ, and some Shard-Bearers who have chosen to harmonize with either faction may even find their way to the opposing faction's session as well.

SPRINGSTAR, αιώνιος ήλιος

In Springstar, the seat of the Tribune becomes available for such a forum. While a section of the building itself has been reserved for the meeting between fresh faces and experienced Shard-Bearers alike, the hustle and bustle of Heliopolis continues around them -- acolytes still gather their robes and tomes, hurrying from their quarters to lessons. A score of young militants march in step across the yard to the training grounds.

Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare typical to Springstar's warmer climate -- fruits and wines, savory smoked meats and roasted vegetables, a series of meze platters and souvlaki skewers have been lain out to encourage forum participants to snack as they speak. The atmosphere is light, ambient with informality and friendliness, though topics will inevitably stray towards philosophic, Springstar's meeting grounds are decorated with handsome chaise lounges and slouching klismos chairs in small, intimate groupings.

However, those who have attended the forum in the past or simply have a sharp eye may notice: food doesn’t flow as freely in a feast-like setting as before. It’s more subdued in presentation and portion because as you may hear, the Blight (see below) is an affliction that’s been affecting the food stores of Springstar and Highstorm both. The Meri are nervous about this and blame it on the Zenites since they had won the Oracle on the Scorching Isles (January's event) and with it, punished the Meridian, even if unintentionally. As such, those who are notable Zenites or who wear their allegiance openly may not be treated as kindly. The military also seems to be more present at the forum. These two things are related, as it turns out, because only a few days after the new Shard-Bearers arrive, an invasion will begin.

HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы

Eternally in opposition, Highstorm provides the Manor's courtyard as the setting for their informational meeting. Formality is of utmost importance here, with attending Zenith loyalists and residents dressed in beautiful, albeit austere attire -- they are, after all, standing before Lady Yima's home. A buffet-style luncheon is spread alongside one of the largest reflecting pools, wherein you may gaze and find your memories revealed in retrospect upon the water's surface.

There are few places to be seated in the Manor's courtyard, resulting in a milling of bodies as they flow and ebb between smaller gatherings, clustering in small-to-large groups with small platters and shimmering flutes of drink held in their hands.

The mood of Highstorm is subdued as always, but still seems to be pleasant and joyous thanks to claiming the Oracle in the Scorching Isles. The Blight may be affecting the city and causing plants and the like to die, but there’s admittedly not much of it to be seen with Highstorm’s harsh winters. Maybe they’re not hit as badly as Springstar, or maybe they just haven’t noticed yet. Only time will tell. But regardless, notable Meri or those that wear their allegiance more openly will be treated politely, but perhaps with a little condescension. Highstorm is one step closer to winning than Springstar, after all.

para bellum (the occupation of alenroux)

A few days after new Shard-Bearers arrive, the word spreads quickly as the campaign begins: Meridian is invading Alenroux.

To those who have Harmonized with Meridian, they’ll be contacted by Cyrus through Communion 48 hours before the invasion begins. As he explains, Springstar is a city that depends on Alenroux far more than Highstorm (because of its much larger population), and with Alenroux currently under Zenite control, it’s imperative that they make sure that Zenith isn’t able to cut off access and cause a famine for Springstar. Zenith won’t be denied access to Alenroux or its bounty either, he makes that clear. This is just a matter of being proactive in their defense to protect their people. For the Meridian, their goals in supporting this effort are clear:

• Create secure outposts. Well-built, defensible outposts are needed, so anyone who can assist with building efforts, and quickly are appreciated.
• Defend the outposts and the Meri soldiers at large. Alenroux is still dangerous because of the monsters, and soldiers will be staying overnight. Fighting off monsters is something that will also eventually make Alenroux inhabitable.
• Prevent Zenith interference. Highstorm surely won’t be happy about this, so make sure that the soldiers and the outposts are protected from Zenites just as much as from the monsters that roam the lands.

And indeed, the invasion and occupation does come as a surprise to Highstorm. While they had noted the increased training of Springstar’s military, it was assumed to be in preparation for the intensified tensions of losing the first Oracle, not something as bold as an open act of war like this.

It takes some time for Yima to learn more about the events herself, but Zenith will also be contacted through Communion. With the air of a disappointed mother, she’ll explain that Meridian’s choice is regrettable since she thought they would be better than this. Yima explains that there’s no need to turn Alenroux into an open warzone and cut off both cities from their breadbasket. Instead, she lays out the following direction to gently break Meridian’s spirit first before turning to open hostilities:

• Collect information. Where are the outposts, how many soldiers are assigned to them, and what are their general movements. Scouting and spying will be valuable. Learning more about the Meri Shard-Bearers’ capabilities while they’re fighting creatures rather than Zenites is also useful.
• Create dissent. The people that work and visit Alenroux regularly have mixed feelings about the occupation unless they’re Meridian loyalists. Making the campaign unpopular with the people can push Meridian back without needing to raise a finger.
• Sabotage. But don’t get caught doing it, at least for now. Whether breaking defenses or leading more powerful monsters to the encampments, it’s best to break morale before needing to fight back openly.

If you’re unharmonized when all of this begins, then you’ll be finding out about it with the general populace. However, it’s a good opportunity to learn what a faction is about in a more hands-on way. Though you may not be privy to their private, factional discussions, both sides will still welcome the help of those still yet to decide.

SETTING UPDATES

In both locations, information passes between all in a forum, spread and disseminated among the masses - it's a good opportunity for city residents, faction loyalists and interested new parties to share and share alike. Once the meet-and-greet has concluded, twin missives from both faction leads are read out -- invitations for all present to explore the cities to their heart's content, and warnings about stumbling ill-prepared ( or at all ) into the Below, or worse yet, the Beyond. As Shard-Bearers new and old take in their cities, they'll all see it change throughout the month...

OOC, these are all updates to the setting at large that players both new and old are free to interact with as little or as much as they wish! Feel free to use them as prompts on this post, in your characters on-going lives and arcs, or just let them go "that's none of my business" and ignore it. The world of Kenos is shaped by our playerbase, and these are some of the wider reaching effects of various player plots and actions.

THE BLIGHT

During the events of the Scorching Isles, Shard-Bearers encountered an affliction upon the island and unintentionally brought it back to Highstorm and Springstar with them. Known simply as “the Blight,” this condition steals time from the things it infects. It most frequently infects inanimate objects and will cause them to rot or degrade rapidly (such as a piece of metal rusting within hours) but is able to infect living things as well. Most notably, the Blight is infecting plants and animals in the two cities. Plants both decorative and necessary will wither and die, and small animals grow sick and die seemingly of old age. This has been seen in small amounts throughout the past month OOC but is greatly increased in frequency in March and beyond.

FURTHER DETAILS

• Within the NPC populace, there’s a low-grade fear of the Blight intensifying and being able to infect larger animals/the people. There’s no evidence of this yet, but Shard-Bearers that were on the Scorching Isles will know this is possible.
• Some characters will be aware that the rare, blue flowers that grow in the barren portions of World’s End (February’s event location) seem to reduce the effects of the detrimental effects of the Oracle and the Blight. Because of some drops of characters that knew this information, you can assume that characters are able to learn this information if they’re interested enough to dig into it.
• Dr. Julia Melnik of Springstar is openly researching cures for the Blight and will recruit anyone interested to be research assistants to test formulations of cures on afflicted plants/creatures. You can handwave these interactions and use them for prompt(s), if you’d like!
• Finally, if curing the Blight is something your character would specifically be interested in, please note it in your Character Survey so that the Loremasters will be able to help you pursue this organically.

THE OCCUPATION OF ALENROUX

As mentioned above, Meridian has launched a surprise invasion and occupation of Alenroux. Because Meridian was able to successfully keep their efforts a secret throughout the months (!) they’ve been planning this, Zenith will not be able to repel their advances… Immediately, at least. After roughly a week OOC from this log’s posting, the Meridian outposts in Alenroux will be stable and will change the island in the following ways:

FURTHER DETAILS

• Outposts have been established in well-chosen, defensible locations throughout the island of Alenroux. They’re clustered more heavily closer to the Cornerstone and are non-existent in the more dangerous Northern portion of the island where little farming is done anyways.
• Meridian soldiers will be always staying in the camps and outposts. For now, they’re a more supervisory force that are protecting the farmlands of Alenroux. During the day cycle, the military will respond with hostility to anyone that threatens the farms. If your character would antagonize or outright fight Meridian military, please contact a Loremaster, since this will have repercussions! Otherwise, the soldiers will assist workers and visitors to Alenroux in a professional manner.
• During the night cycle, the military will defend their outposts from monsters and make occasional offensive excursions to reduce the threat of monsters. The secondary goal of the Meridian military is also to make Alenroux a place that people can live, though this is a longer term effort.
• Meridian Shard-Bearers will be strongly encouraged to assist with the effort. “Assist” is purposefully defined broadly so that characters can help in whatever way suits them. Scouting, building, monster killing, or just morale improving are all valid ways that will gain favor with their faction and may lead to further opportunity. For now, abstaining will not have consequences, but may in the future.
• Zenith Shard-Bearers will be treated with suspicion in Alenroux and are not allowed to approach any of the Meridian outposts, or at least not without triggering a fight. The military will not outright attack Zenites (unless provoked) and essentially encouraged to move along. However, they may wish to gather information about the outposts and Meridian forces to attempt to push back against the occupation.
• Unharmonized Shard-Bearers are not treated with hostility, but similar to Zeniths will not be allowed to enter any of the encampments.
• If your character has an interest in continuing or stopping the occupation, please note it in your Character Survey so that Loremasters will be able to help you pursue this organically.

If Zenith would like to repel these advances, this is a response that will be purely in player hands (but will be assisted by Zenite NPCs, of course!). If they want to reclaim Alenroux, they can, or they can simply let Meridian continue. It’s up to you! This is something that Zenite players should discuss both IC and OOC, and if this plot develops further, Loremasters will help facilitate the ongoing conflict as a part of our changing game environment.

SMALLER CHANGES

HIGHSTORM: GREENWOOD YARDS

Considering the affliction that threatens the well-being of flora and small fauna alike, the greenhouses are far more discerning with those who are permitted inside its gates, afraid of the contagion affecting the precious, invaluable greenery of long-dead worlds. After the occupation of Alenroux, Meridian will be outright turned away, and while Zenith possesses no formal military or police, the greenskeepers appear to be prepared to defend their property with physical force should it come to that. Unharmonized are still allowed inside. The rest of the Yard beyond the greenhouses are still open to all factions.

And though it may seem an odd place for such a gathering, the indoor bathhouse at the far end of the Yards appears to be gaining popularity for mysterious reasons; if asked, none of the locals will explain the abrupt uptick in visitation. But should you investigate yourself, the reason why becomes apparent through experience: the tea served by the attendants here has changed properties. Should you be a Zenite, you will be served a cup that decreases your body's natural need for food and drink for 24 hours - an effort to test a concoction to relieve the need to deplete resources and lessen the city's reliance on Alenroux. Should you be a Meridian, the tea you're served will increase your appetite a considerable degree even if you normally do not require sustenance, and you will find yourself unfulfilled even if you are unwise and eat yourself to the point of illness; this lasts for 24 hours. The Unharmonized will find the tea might make them vaguely woozy, and either cause mild increase or decrease in appetite.

KOWLOON: DRAUMAHOL (cw: drugs)

Those that frequent Kowloon may have heard about the sudden disappearance of the former owner and operator of the drug den Draumahol, though it was only really noted because of the business being closed for a few days. Practically unheard of, since the desperate of Highstorm and Springstar come to Draumahol for their various fixes that are a little more taboo on the surface. But, never fear. After a brief closure, Draumahol reopens.

While it may not be obvious early in the month, it'll be increasingly so that Draumahol is under new management. Those that frequent the business enough will be able to figure out that the new owner is Silco (or, if you personally know him, it's fairly obvious). If you would like to plot anything regarding Draumahol, we encourage reaching out to Silco's player, Jill!

SPRINGSTAR: THE CHURCH

After the loss of the first Oracle, the Church of Heliopolis has been busy tending to its flock as the numbers coming to seek comfort swell. The gatherings aren't formal "services" so much as they're chances for people to come together and inspire each other with their homes and dreams of home. One formal process that does stick out though is that with each "service" one member will tap into the world shown in their sunbeam and open their minds to Communion. Anyone that wishes to can also experience this member's home, see their friends, loved ones, and the sights. It's a intimate bonding activity, but seems to be very cathartic for those that partake.

Additionally, those that come by the Church frequently enough to be known faces at the "services" may also be approached by priests and priestesses and invited to join in smaller ceremonies. Always taking place during Springstar's dawn or dusk, these ceremonies have a markedly different vibe and are lead by Hieropoios Natalia herself. Attending these ceremonies is an exclusive honor that will reduce attendees' Discord and has a subtly addictive quality that will encourage them to return. Hm!

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all new players need an invite to apply to the game, which are now open.

This log is Game Canon. Any characters who are not apped to the game will disappear. If Cyrus or Yima are asked, they’ll explain that this sometimes happens since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They may return to Kenos one day, but for now, weren’t able to make the full journey.

As a note primarily for current players, closed toplevels/prompts are not allowed in this log. If you would like to interact with the setting changes in a way that isn't open to all characters (new and old), we ask that you instead make a log in kenoslogs.

As a general reminder, any new characters that choose Zenith will receive a bonus 2 AC token reward, which is a purely OOC incentive. Our factions are a bit imbalanced at the moment, so we'd appreciate more Zenites!

FOR NEW PLAYERS:

When characters emerge from their cocoon/the ground, they may be wearing their normal clothes or nude. Up to you!

At some point in the days after leaving the Tree of Life, new Shard-Bearers will have a dream, even if they're usually not capable of sleeping. All new players should read this post since this details how they'll learn about both factions and their goals and should help them make a decision about which Faction they'd be drawn to.

As a reminder, your character has a Shard somewhere on their body that encompasses their soul, so keep note of where you're sticking it on their person for reference! Additionally, they have a tattoo of their Aspect somewhere on their body. Please be mindful this Aspect will be assigned to you upon approval and whatever you choose for the TDM may be temporary (for new characters)!

For the Highstorm and Springstar prompts, both cities will be fully open and accessible to all characters once they are freed from their rather harrowing ordeal at the Tree of Life. For prompt ideas and any general information about the cities and what you can find there, please see the Navigation page and check out the locations!

New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM until they Harmonize, AKA make a choice of which faction they choose to support. For some characters, this may be an easy decision, but it make take others time. We just ask you keep this in mind!

CODING

Comments

QUESTIONS

[beleos]

NOTABLE ACTIONS

[beleos]

If your character does something that would be notable to the wider setting or noted by NPCs, report it here!

For example, if your character(s) got into a bar brawl, destroyed or stole property, helped an NPC run their shop for a bit, etc. Essentially let us know how character is impacting the wider world of Kenos!

quetzalcoatl (rider) ; fate grand order ; meridian stargazer

[muchalucha]

I. BEARING FRUIT (NEW)

[ As you’re crawling your way out of the ground, a hand suddenly, strongly grabs onto your wrist to help pull you the rest of the way out. The dirt may be soft and hard to find grips in, but luckily the person that made it out a little bit before you is able to handle helping you out. As the dirt clears from your face and you look upon your savior, they are—!!

…A very tall, very ripped, and very naked woman. Congrats?

She’s still covered in dirt herself but doesn’t seem to mind it. Far from it since she instead looks deeply relieved that you’ve made it out. ]

Ahhh, good! You’re alive! It’s one thing to be crawling out of the dirt, but seeing the hands sticking out, ay— What a rude summoning!

II. BEARING FRUIT (OLD)

[ Once several people have started to make their way out of the roots of the Tree, other Shard-Bearers start to show up to help out the newly arrived ones. So, as soon as someone that’s not covered in dirt appears, Quetzalcoatl absolutely shamelessly heads their way with an enthusiastic wave. ]

¡Hola! It doesn’t look like you were just underground, so! [ She laughs cheerfully as she gestures to her. Totally naked self. Help, ] Do you have some extra clothes? Or just some cloth? I’ll even just take the shirt off your back! Getting summoned isn’t that strange, but usually it’s the other person that’s naked.

[ welcome to the fun game of “what the fuck are you talking about Quetzalcoatl” ]

III. SPRINGSTAR ; COLISEUM

[ A forum to exchange ideas? When there’s a coliseum in the city? Well. You can guess where the newest fight-happy god immediately ended up. She’s absolutely forgoing the forum completely in favor of a day of her particular flavor of fun!

While Quetzalcoatl is raring and ready to get in the ring herself, there’s a certain level of respect that she gives to the fights taking place. Also, it’s good to get a sense of how seriously she’ll be able to take it when she does decide to participate! Humans were great! …But also really easy to break. So! It’s best to scope out the people that can take her punches and fight them instead!

However, she’s also quick to fully get into the fervor of the matches. She’d started out watching politely and curiously but seeing that the fighters were actually quite good and varied in their skill level, she’d made her way down to some of the lower, rowdier seats. Maybe you’ve just gotten here and are trying to make it to a less rowdy spot, or maybe you’re just as inclined to be in the rowdy section yourself. Either way, the tall, blonde woman is enthusiastically shouting down to the fighters with nothing short of glee on her face. She’s having fun! ]

¡Fuera, fuera! Come on, break the rudo’s back!

[ Maybe a little too much fun?! No, it’s fine, she’s probably not literal. But as the “face” does an especially showy move, she cheers, then looks to you with delight. ]

Wow, they’re so good…!! Ah, I was worried Meridian wouldn’t have any fun warriors, but I’m so happy to be wrong! Can anyone fight? I want to go next!

IV. HIGHSTORM ; PARTY CRASHER

[ Quetzalcoatl does not do subterfuge. The very idea is laughable, to be honest, but especially so in Highstorm. Where Highstorm was a dark, rather dour city, Quetzalcoatl is tall, imposing, and above all, colorful! If there’s someone that looks very obviously to be an out of place Meri, it’s her.

However.

It doesn’t stop her from coming to partake of free food. Her appetite is near bottomless without a Master to supplement her Mana, and she is curious about this other side that she’ll apparently be fighting against. Everything about them reminds her of her brother and rival, so it prompts a spirit of competition, but also a certain softness. It would be one thing to be trading blows with Tezcatlipoca, but these were people, after all. So, she’s curious.

There’s a (comically full) plate of food in her hands, but when she sees an opportunity to start a conversation, she’ll do so without any hesitation. ]

So, are you Zenith? Or considering it?

V. ALENROUX

[ For a goddess of the Morning-star (and who had been the sun for a time, but), there was no choice with which faction to pick, really. Meridian may be a strange name for it, but when Quetzalcoatl had held her sunbeam in her hands, she had felt it with certainty: the warmth of the sun, the warmth of her own divinity. Her duty as a goddess was to the sun and to be sure its light always touched her people, that Coyolxauhqui, the moon, would never win her war against Huitzilopochtli, the sun.

So, an invasion doesn’t bother her. She accepts the logic easily and without question. You have to fight to protect your people. It’s obvious! So, the newest god that’s pledged themselves to Meridian’s cause is enthusiastic in her help. ]

A – DAYTIME

[ Quetzalcoatl is a little disappointed that things aren’t quite as contentious once she actually gets to Alenroux since she may have been looking for a bit of a fight, so she’s taking it a bit easy for now. She’s strong, absurdly so, but not so great at building… In fact, she’s more likely to fuck it up, terribly. She knows herself, so she’ll take a more casual, protective role as one of the larger outposts is built. It doesn’t quite seem like it though since the outpost on top of a hill overlooks a field of hay about ready for harvest. She’s looking over the scenery with a warm, thoughtful smile and seems to be enjoying the view and its peace. Probably ironic, considering what’s being built so close by, but. That’s easy for a god to brush away.

Though, as she realizes someone is nearby, her little reverie is broken, and she laughs bashfully as she gives a little wave. ]

You caught me zoning out! Ah…

[ She laughs, then as she lowers her hand to her side, it’s to then produce a bottle of what is probably liquor but there is also no label on it, so. Hm! ]

Well, come join me! I got this little gift and shouldn’t drink it all by myself! We’ll celebrate their harvest soon!

B – NIGHTTIME

[ With the night comes creatures that need slaying, and Quetzalcoatl is all to happy to oblige. Whether you’re needing assistance or doing fine on your own, she’ll butt in all the same. Armed with her macuahuitl and chimalli, Quetzalcoatl appears with nothing short of a delighted laugh and catches the creature in the neck with her sword. Its tough enough to not immediately fall at her heavy blow, so she holds up the shield defensively as she pushes back harder. But, while she does, she gives a glance to you. ]

Sorry, sorry, I was almost late!

WILDCARD

[ The usual of “you have another idea, hit me”. Additionally, beyond the super obvious ones, you can rollover the Spanish words for a translation! Quetz peppers Spanish into her speech very liberally, so. Similarly, if you’d rather me forgo the Spanish, just let me know and I’ll indicate things she says in Spanish like this. ]

jyn erso | star wars

[vallt]

i. bearing fruit

[she's never believed in the force; not really. there'd been the stories that her mother had told her once, long ago, ones that surface from the cave in her mind, splintering out from its cracks, every so often like half-remembered dreams, only to fade — if she doesn't manage to lock them away again first. and for years, there'd only been the stories, because —

when it comes to survival, believing in anything at all, much less a story, is an indulgence at best and an excuse at worst. jyn erso has seen what people will do for a cause they believe in, has worn the scars of it.

but in the final moments of her life, after hope had carried her to the place she'd needed to be, belief had greeted her. it'd felt as warm as the arms that had held her in her last, as calming as the voice of her mother whispering in her ear: trust the force. with nothing else left, she had, and she'd died at peace.

only for that, too, to be taken from her. everything is always taken from her, in the end.

and when she wakes, just as the voice that sounds nothing like her mother's, belief has burned out of her, leaving her with nothing but rage.

it's rage that fuels her as she claws her way out of the dirt, choking and gasping for breath. it's rage that has her slapping away a hand that reaches for her, rage that has her baring her teeth, snarling as she says:]

Don't touch me. I won't warn you again.


ii a. springstar

[if it weren't for the food, she'd regret being here. oh, would she regret it; the conversation drifting in from all around her ranges from painfully boring to worthy of eye rolling, and the one who'd introduced herself as kestrel rallik when asked had abandoned nearly all attempts at pleasantries that had stood between her and the food.

jyn can't even remember how long it's been since she'd had a decent meal, and she's never one to waste an opportunity like this.

plates are limited, they say, so, unfortunately, she has to try a track other than simply standing by the food. she takes to wandering, in between one painfully boring conversation and the next, and asks the first person she comes upon with a half-empty plate, with all the innocence she can muster (read: she's failing at this miserably):]

Are you going to finish that?


ii b. highstorm

[a woman who calls herself tanith dawn, who is of course an entirely different person than kestrel rallik, is a guest at highstorm today. she's dressed formally enough to not stand out in any crowd of bodies milling about the tables of food.

if one watches her for some time, they might notice a couple of things: 1) she appears quite uncomfortable with the formality, and can be seen fidgeting with her sleeves (and with the material at her chest, covering the unfamiliar crystal that now sits where her kyber once had) and shifting on her feet, and 2) she never drifts very far from the food tables.

is that a third plate she's sneaking? no, of course it isn't. you've seen nothing.]


wildcard

[have another idea? wanna talk alenroux stuff? hit me up! you can find me with a pm to this journal or at lensflares on plurk]

diluc ragnvindr | genshin impact

[fireballer]

i. bearing fruit

[when diluc emerges from the earth with a violent intake of air, he takes a moment to take stock of the strange situation he's found himself in. immediately, he determines that he is: 1) covered in dirt and sap, 2) shirtless for some reason, 3) branded by some sort of mark on his upper right bicep, 4) bearing some sort of crystal on his upper left bicep, and 5) without his vision. each new discovery of his present condition is increasingly alarming, and he has to take a deep breath to keep himself calm.

inhale. exhale. this was no different from his times traversing the whole of teyvat, but returning to the comforts of Mondstadt had offset his feral caveman survival instincts a little. he just has to shift his thinking, approach this as if it were a few years ago when he'd always wake up somewhere new and unknown. this isn't, after all, the first time he's woken up half-naked and unafraid with nothing but his fists to protect himself.

still, he feels none of the fuzziness in his mind despite not having his vision. strange and worth noting, on top of everything else weighing on his shoulders.

he hears someone coming towards him, and he swivels to face the source, body defensive and ready to attack if needed. he doesn't say a word so as not to alert anyone potentially dangerous who may not have noticed him just yet.]

ii. two cities

[after attending the meet-and-greets for both cities (for which he only kept his eyes and ears open and did very little actual meeting or greeting), diluc has only one conclusion: both factions and cities are biased as hell, and if he wants something a little closer to the truth rather than the idealized versions of what they're trying to sell him, he has to dig into the underbelly of each society.

unharmonized at this point until he gets the information he wants, he poses little threat to either faction and slips through either city, noticed but otherwise not given a second glance. when he enters the tavern for each respective city, he'll slide onto a stool, looking around for anyone suspicious from whom he can pry information on the true nature of both factions, and look back at the bartender.]

One large grape juice.

iii. para bellum - alenroux

[but what better information hub than a largely neutral land? even after the occupation, it's surely recent enough that the residents have not yet been swayed by it. honestly - it may even sway them to view meridian unfavorably, in his own opinion. he's not sure what the leadership was thinking, but whatever. it doesn't concern him quite yet.

he's alternating between sneaking around and attempting to blend into the populace, which is difficult due to his bright red hair and the general lack of people around compared to the cities. still he manages the best he can...

...and comes across someone else trying to do the exact same thing. he sighs.]

I suppose this area isn't as secretive as I believed.

iv. ol' reliable wildcard

[diluc can generally be found wandering around alone trying to keep to himself and be unnoticed if you want to run into him.]

[ooc | let me know if i got anything wrong lmao i'm trying to hurry so i can eat. pm me!]

Gavial | Arknights

[kinaesthesia]

i. Arrival - Channel your inner Steve Irwin

[Gavial’s never been one to put much stock into dreams. They’re usually silly or frivolous and trying to parse out anything deep from them always just felt like a waste of time. Maybe sometimes they’d be good for a laugh if she could remember it long enough, but generally they’re out of her mind once she’s up and ready to tackle the day. So the dream greeting her now of worlds ending and strangers compelling her to make a decision an what to do about it doesn’t really mean much to her outside of it feeling kinda… weird.

Especially when she finds herself opening her eyes to whatever the hell this all is, covered in sap and cradled in leaves with a small chunk of what looks like Originium embedded the plant-like wall in the space just before her. Maybe it’s because this still feels weird enough to be a part of her dream, but something in her is compelled to grab it—what the hell can it do to her now, right?—and suddenly everything around her seems to come undone. The soft glow of the leaves go dim and the weight of the earth above suddenly comes pressing in, and it activates a primal need to scramble her way out as quickly as possible.

Maybe you ventured here just in time to catch a new arrival and come forward to offer a hand that she’ll instinctively grab to help pull herself up. Or maybe you just stand there and watch as this woman, both her body and what little clothing she’s wearing covered in sap and dirt, scrambles out on her own. Either way, once she’s sufficiently unburied enough that she can fully move, she’ll take a breath and give you an uncertain glance—and that’s all the warning you’ll get before she launches herself up to tackle you down into the dirt with her, tail lashing behind her in irritation.]

(ooc: preferably one person for this prompt, but hey im not gonna complain if multiple people want to wrestle the crocodile.)

ii. Springstar - Would you perchance like to rumble?

[Once she gets settled and attends at least one get-together where the big shots rattle off a welcome to this strange new world, it doesn’t take Gavial long to start exploring the cities. Springstar winds up her first destination mostly by chance, but after hearing about what the eternally sunny city has to offer, her soured mood begins lifting.

Sure, there’s all the heavy stuff surrounding this whole world-has-ended scenario and these factions—and something about a war brewing? Whatever, it doesn’t matter; she can think more about that later. What she needs right now is to get her body moving, start shaking off some of that lingering weirdness she’s been feeling ever since she woke up beneath the dirt. And hell, there’s no better way to get her mind going than to get herself a workout first, right?

So it’s no surprise she winds up exploring the streets of the Psychagogía district with one particular destination in mind. Still, the city is wholly unfamiliar to her, and instead of opting to wander aimlessly, she’ll reach out to clap a friendly hand on the shoulder of one hapless passerby (no, she is not watching her strength, sorry buddy.) and offer a greeting of a grin and a question.]

Heya! Heard there’s some kinda fighting arena around this place—mind giving a gal some directions? [A beat follows as she gives you a quick looking over.] And whaddya say to a friendly sparring match?

[Whether you look strong enough to be fun to fight or you look like you could use some exercise to toughen up, she’s not gonna be picky.]

iii. Highstorm - Garden stroll brawl(?)

[The day after Highstorm’s own little soirée, Gavial takes to exploring the more somber city as well. She’s looking a lot more subdued than she had during her first few days here, the implications of this whole situation really starting to sink in.

It doesn’t help that it’s so damn cold in this city. She’s availed herself of a proper jacket and pants, but there’s a certain plain grumpiness to her features and the idle flick of her long tail as she explores the open parts of the gardens within the Greenwood Yards. It’s quiet and beautiful, and it makes a perfect place to hang out while she gets her thoughts in order.

Well, the quiet is a bit relative. Her wanderings have come to a halt along one path as a series of raised voices catch her attention. There’s a commotion in front of one of the nearby greenhouses, where someone (hailing from Meridian, if their clothing’s any indicator) is arguing with a pair of greenskeepers. There’s a lot of shouting, a lot of passionate swinging of limbs, but so far the whole scene has remained civil beyond that.

Maybe you’ve come to watch the unexpected show as well or are just passing by on a stroll of your own, but your presence nabs Gavial’s attention for a moment nonetheless.]

Hey. [One quick word to get your attention, then she’s nodding her head towards the unfolding scene at the greenhouse.] How much you wanna bet they’ll be taking a swing at each other within the next two minutes?

iv. wildcard

I’m down for literally anything. Find her at either welcoming party or just wandering the cities somewhere or DM me here or ping me on the discord (this is thirteen!) if you wanna plan something specific!

vash the stampede | trigun stampede

[skelters]

➤ BEARING FRUIT

[ in the beginning, or maybe it's the ending, there is only darkness. everything is dark. first he is there and then he is nowhere, a thousand thousand eyes bearing down, crowding out the blue skies and the white clouds until there's nothing left. but is there really - nothing? surely not. a voice speaks. with his eyes closed like this, curled up in the dark with a vague sense of a body that isn't even his own anymore, vash can maybe kid himself that it sounds like rem. it sounds like luida. it sounds like everyone he has lost - everyone he has let down again and again and again, he thinks. not again. not like this.

there is something damp and foreign that vash cannot identify at first - he recognises it only some time after as soil. the smell of earth. fertile ground. it's a foreign thing - in a world full of burnt out remains of what could have been, dried up until nothing remains of kindness, of sacrifices, of simple, human pleasures. the dampness of grass under his hands. a warm presence beside him. the faint sweetness of geraniums. silent vibrations of engines rippling through the air.

what is he doing here? ]

option A:
[ you might be just chilling after clawing yourself out, or you might be an already established shard-bearer wandering around helping them out of the ground. in any case, you will be showered in bits of dirt, small pebbles maybe, and just a whole lot of soil as a shiny, mechanical arm basically explodes out of the ground nearby, blindly groping around for anything it can grab onto. is it a root, some other handhold, or any part of your limbs at a handy distance? ]

option B:
[ once vash has managed to get himself out, he barely wastes a moment shaking out the dirt from the folds of his voluminous red jacket before he is rushing past, grabbing hold of another hand that has just emerged from the ground. he holds it within both of his hands, bracing his feet against the earth before pulling. the softness of the ground means that he sinks a little back into the earth with the force of it, but he doesn't pay no mind to it. once the person's head and shoulders emerge from the earth, vash drops to his knees and begin carefully digging away the dirt from around them. ]

It's okay, it's okay- [ he mutters, loud enough for the person to hear. ] You're safe now. It's okay. There's nothing to worry about.

I'm here to help you.

➤ SPRINGSTAR

option A:
[ mostly cleaned up now, vash sits awkwardly at the very edge of the seat he has been given at the table, trying to make himself seem smaller than he is amidst the bright white-and-gold splendour around him - but with the bright yellow hair and the red coat, it would be hard to keep himself on the down-low as much as vash himself would like. whenever he is offered food, he will shake his head with an awkward laugh. if he is forced to take some, he will turn to the nearest other person instead to offer them the food instead ... like you, for instance. ]

Uh, hello, would you like ... [ a quick glance down ] -some skewers?

option B:
[ any other locations! he would be most interested in: the gardens at katoikitikós, maybe the bar where he can take on further emotional damage more than what he already has. vash would also be unlucky enough to stumble into the coliseum and get roped into fighting yours (and showing off some spectacular dodging skills), the possibilities are endless! please feel free to shoot me a message and I can get you a TL, or feel free to hit me with your own! ]

➤ HIGHSTORM

option A:
[ as vash approaches the meeting place, his attention won't be caught by the people or by the food, but the pools of water that shines silver under the moonlight. at first, it's just simple, innocent curiosity - he has not seen any bodies of water like this in a long time, after all, a lifetime of a lifetime ago - and before he realises, vash finds himself trailing away from the others to the water's edge. as he kneels beside the pool and leans in, catching at his reflection, the shock of blond hair and the orange glasses, the two pale discs of the moons behind him, high up in the dark sky - vash will find himself transfixed, staring down at the reflection as if paralysed.

if you're watching at all, you might see his hands clenching into fists, metal knuckles digging into the ground. you might see his shoulders shaking a little as he drops his stance, all the strength sagging out of him in the next, great, sobbing exhale he lets out. or you might see that, even after all that, when he lifts his head up again to look up at the sky, the real sky, with its twin moons - that while his eyes look impossibly sad, he is still smiling. ]

option B:
[ hello, another location wildcard for highstorm this time! i'd be most interested in: sunset gardens including the bathhouses, fields of fantasia (please save him), maybe the cafe for some harmless bit of fortune reading through tea leaves, or there's always the library!! same thing as above, please feel free to message me for any TLs or feel free to hit up with your own!

➤ ALENROUX (unaligned)

Hey!

[ whether you are aligned with meridian or zenith, if you're approaching any nearby meridian outposts (or general locations and/or access points along any of the main roads, etc), you will be greeted with a tall, lanky man with messy blond hair and a big red coat, who holds his hands up to you in a classic "i am unarmed and cannot harm you" attitude as he, very unsubtly, emerges from a nearby shrubbery or falls down from a tree. even if his stance seems relaxed his voice is definitely anything but, as is the slightly pinched expression of worry. ]

What's this I'm hearing about uh, occupation? I thought this place was meant to be neutral ground!

You know, violence is never an answer!

➤ WILDCARD

[ anything else?? i'm over at sdat or PM this journal! thank you! ]

the emperor | the locked tomb

[hyperpotamous]

[ cw: contains some spoilers! if you really don't care about spoilers at all, let me know! otherwise, i will default to trying to avoid them as much as possible! ]
① BEARING FRUIT

[ this feels familiar. after ten thousand years spent in deep space, john has come to dread familiar. after what he'd been through just before the entire universe collapsed on itself, it's difficult to know what's real and what's possibly the last gasps of a dying brain trying to find some comfort before the end.

this isn't how it was supposed to happen.

this isn't how he planned it, and john knows he can't be dead because he's not finished and apparently someone else needs to be taken to task if that mysterious voice in his head was any indication. people never talk inside your mind for good reasons. he'd say he was dreaming, except it hurts. dreams never quite get pain right, he's found. pain is in the meat. he remembers what it's like to have gravel under his fingernails and the taste of metal in the air. his brain does something sentimental and viscerally takes him back to some memory too old, dead, and human to be tolerated. ]

For fuck's sake.

[ his hands hurt from clawing his way out of the earth, and he can't fix them as he would ordinarily; the novelty of his renewed mortality has officially worn off.

it's been two minutes.

now, he's naked under a fucking tree in the middle of God only knows where. he's invoking himself in his head and laughing about it. that's... probably fine? ]

② ALENROUX (cw: blood, bone)

[ he sells out as soon as he's given the option. that's an easy one. whatever yima is offering, he's not buying; he's been spinning a similar line of bullshit for a very long time and can smell it coming.

he hasn't had his shit together for a long time, but it's at least compartmentalised for the moment. the somewhat unhinged person that dragged his way out of the earth has been replaced with someone far more self-assured now that he's himself again, in at least the ways that matter. he has a lot of work ahead if he intends to iron out the specifics of how things work around here.

in any case, right now, he's making himself useful. they need people to build and build quick, but there's something about walls three feet thick growing up out of the ground made out of solid bone that seems to be unsettling some of the locals. wonder how that could be.

john is also figuring out that being in kenos seems to be affecting him more than he realised. usually, this would be so easy he wouldn't even feel a drain on his power, but now he wipes at his forehead with the back of his hand and is surprised to feel it come away wet. he's only sweating a little blood! this does not generate the reaction one might expect in this situation, but then it dissolves away harmlessly to powder a moment later anyway... ]

Time for a break, I suppose.

[ he's honestly more than fine, but he intends to keep up appearances and pretend he's a Very Average Necromancer for as long as it lasts. ]

Do they have any decent tea around here, you think?

③ WILDCARD

[ ooc; want something else? hmu @ koutenko or pm! i'm also leaving a link to his permissions post here if you would like to opt out of anything, including spoilers for the locked tomb series! i am newly voice testing him ahhh ]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 | 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃!!!

[helloween]

🫀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓

[ Dark Schneider's arm erupts from his place in the soil, gripping and yanking whatever’s closest to it. Ankle, hand, tit, hair, whatever. There’s no respect for it— he just wants to be out of the floor. Garbled while he’s still buried, the sharp, hyena-like quality of his voice bubbles up through ground. Another hand busts through, clawing angrily with dirt under the nails. He grabs something else of yours; he pulls you across the floor, even, if you’re not prepared for it. ]

ABIGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIL!

[ His head and shoulders finally burst out of the soil. Nostrils flared and crazy-eyed, Dark spits all the dirt that's collected on his face. ]

I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU–!

[ It’s apparent that he’s looking for someone specific, and you are not that person. The moment hits him, and he locks eyes with you. Breath heaving, hair like a white mane all around him. ]

🫀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓... 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍!

[ Now that Dark’s realized that ripping his heart out has somehow landed him in another realm, he understands that other displaced people, one at a time, are sprouting up around these parts. The chance of them being naked as naked as he is? Very high. That much known and being enough for him, he has very childishly decided that he will wait for more women to turn up.

He can’t even be assed to help anyone out of the ground when he sees the hands blooming out of the soil, either. Instead of that, he grins at how they wiggle and grasp, sitting himself at the edge of whatever screwed up flower garden Yima has made here. Legs crossed wide and while scratching one of his thighs, Dark Schneider cackles with wicked amusement at one particular arm that has been struggling for some time now.

Oh. That would be your arm. ]

🫀 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

The other place had better food.

[ His comment earns him an eyeball from somebody. Dark doesn’t really even look away from his platter to know who it’d come from. A Ze…nite maybe? Is that what these well-dressed people called themselves again?

Scrape, plop. Scrape, plop. Like the gluttonous animal that he is, Dark has stopped the line of the buffet right before the small selection of eat dishes, spearing as much food onto his platter as he can. And boy, can he. Yoko’s not even here to stop him, heh!

Ah, shit. Yoko is still out there somewhere without him. ]

Tch...

[ He still hasn’t decided which of these factions he takes to just yet. Even so, deciding’s not as important as stuffing himself with food. He’s got to do something to distract himself from Lucien’s weird, codependent 14-year old feelings he’s been bonded to. There is no more meat left at the buffet. Turning away like he’s taken an appropriate serving for one person, Dark begins to saunter back to the courtyard to eat. ]

🫀 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓
( hit him up with whatever! just a heads up also that his canon has questionable content in it and you can opt out here if anything makes you uncomfortable. )

marc spector, marvel comics.

[vestments]

bearing fruit

( marc's died before.

he's died several times and it's never been like this. the first time had been terrifying, painful, and marc hadn't known what had been happening — or, he'd known, deep down, but it'd been an incomprehensible process, like there was a part of his brain that refused to understand what was happening.

the second and third times had been different. he'd known he was dying, and he'd known khonshu had been going to bring him back.

not once, then, has he awoken in dirt, buried deep within the earth. panic sits within his chest and on his lungs, not unlike that first time he'd died, when he'd found himself in khonshu's temple, at the foot of his statue, not wanting to die but not really sure of what else would happen.

he digs, scraping at the soil with callused, scarred hands. eventually, he reaches the surface and emerges with a gasp. is this real? he's not sure. it feels real, the earth solid and cold beneath his hands, but still a sliver of doubt sits at the back of his mind, questioning.

he breathes in then out. one. two. three. KHONSHU! he thinks and there's nothing. silence. no answer. (fuck shit.) kneeling in the dirt, marc takes in his surroundings. any hand extended towards him is ignored, his expression a mixture of trepidation and wariness. his suit, once a startling white, is — now not. it adds to the overall air of dishevelment marc all but embodies: dark circles sit beneath his eyes, his left eyebrow is separated in two by a scar, it's evidently been a few days since he's even thought about shaving, and his nose looks to have been recently broken judging by the bruising blooming outwards.

marc spector, in other words, is a mess. )

Khonshu? ( he vocalises the name this time, although there's an abrupt pause immediately afterwards, as if there's more marc wants to say but isn't sure what. there's a question there, in his expression, one that's not asked as his attention slides towards other hands emerging from the soil.

surprise, then— ) —Fuck.

highstorm

( marc still doesn't really know what's going on. sure, he remembers his (the?) dream, remembers being told about the destruction of worlds and it'd sat with him, strangely and uncomfortably.

the moon had called to him, much as the moon always had. there's no khonshu here, and marc doesn't know if that's by khonshu's own choice (the miserable bastard) or whether it's — everything else. still, though he doesn't strictly trust what he's been told or even what he'd seen, there's comfort to be had in the familiar cold light of the moon and the darkness. it's where marc's made his home over the years, for better or worse, and though he's still unsure as to what any of it means for moon knight, he'd gravitated towards the darker city, the nighttime, for what could the protector of those who travel at night do in day?

(not that he'd reacted well at first. marc is a fist and his instinct is to punch first, ask questions later and then maybe, eventually, when all other options have been exhausted, look towards his problems.

(sort of. marc doesn't really do dealing with his problems.) )

he's cleaned up somewhat since first crawling out of the dirt — the three-piece suit is a crisp white again, but the signs of habitual lack of sleep remain. in spite of this, his gaze is watchful and his demeanour a mix of tense pensiveness. he doesn't bother with the food, though there's a cup of what may be coffee in his hands.

he watches as someone identifiable as being from the other — faction? is treated cordially but that's about all that can be said. the corners of his lips quirk downwards just for a second and his gaze shifts sideways, to the person closest to him. )

Do they do this often? ( he asks, and he means the buffets. the mingling. the whatever the fuck this is. )

alenroux

( it's been years since marc's been involved in anything ostensibly military. his stint in the marines hadn't lasted long, after all, and whilst he'd carried the title of 'soldier' for longer, it'd been disingenuous. marc had never been one to shy away from admitting he was a mercenary. it wasn't honourable, it wasn't admirable. it hadn't even been 'just a job', it had been a means to a personal end that he didn't entirely enjoy dwelling on.

in recent years, khonshu has been the same means to an end, a permission to indulge in violence.

the deeper intricacies of the politics of alenroux and meridian and zenith are still not anything that marc understands deeply, but he avoids alenroux in the daytime regardless. it's not born of a desire to avoid confrontation, but more because marc errs towards sleeping during the day.

badly, but sleeping nonetheless.

though zenith appeals because of the night and the moon, marc otherwise feels no intrinsic loyalty. he has a god and no desire to involve himself with any other. what does catch his attention is the mention of monsters prowling in the dark, monsters that meridian go out of their way to fight.

and whilst marc is still settling, still wrapping his head around what he's been told and what he sees and what he feels, fighting is a familiarity. still dressed in white, marc evidently has no desire to hide, to not be seen. )

WILDCARD.

( something else fam? go for it my dudes. )

( ooc — hello!!! moon knight deals with a lot of heavy shit, so i've got some content warnings and an opt-out located here. in terms of canon point, i'm waffling between mid-lemire's run/vol 6 and mid-mackay run/vol 8. totes open to any wildcard prompts but if u want to hash something out, feel free to get in touch on plurk at spandex!! )

Rin Tohsaka | Fate/

[erbe]

I. Springstar

[Despite all the pleasant and reassuring feelings that came with the informational dream, Tohsaka is still suspicious. So even as she meanders among the crowd she still refuses to eat. As if worried something must be in it.

Yet being surrounded with all that food and not eating anything gets to her. A gnawing pang of hunger in the pit of her stomach grows as she passes up each and every offering plate. Until finally her body can't handle it anymore. No more mingling around, no more ghosting on the edge of conversations to try and learn more. Her stomach growls, loud, and it's enough to probably grab the attention of whoever is next to her.]

II. Highstorm

[The more subdued nature of the gathering of Highstorm suits her, she thinks. Makes it better for her to isolate if she needs to, but also makes it harder for her to just disappear into the crowd while eavesdropping. In the end Tohsaka ventures over to the reflecting pool. Caught by the glimpse of a memory.

The sight of her and her sister as young children in the park. Happily playing. Skipping forward to seeing her not too long after — hair and eye color changed, but still recognizable. Still her— No, the reflection shifts. The view of Sakura from where Rin would watch her walk home with Emiya before she started patrol. And then, whether it be the pool or her own imagination, everything turns dark aside from Sakura's face. Her eyes wide and manic. Glowing red following a circuit-like pattern on her neck and cheek. Nee-san.

In a panic Tohsaka slaps her hand on the surface of the water, but ends up splashing the person near her!]

—Ah! Sorry, I didn't mean to.

III. Greenwood Yards

[Not one to pass up a little exploration, Tohsaka eventually makes her way to the greenhouses. They interest her because despite being doubtful that a destroyed world can be restored, seeing "revived" flora through these greenhouses is certainly of interest to her. Because while she doesn't have any of her abilities (unharmonized) yet, should she regain the use of her family crest she will need medicine to keep its influence on her body in check.

The rumor mill about the bathhouses spike in popularity compels Tohsaka to investigate. While nothing overly exciting happens during her stay, she does seem to get a little greedy and stay longer in the warm waters than advisable. So with the combination of overheating from the bath and wooziness from the tea, she'll be stumbling into the closest person and latching on.]

Mn, just give me a minute. [Does she even KNOW you? What audacity, if not.]

IV. Alenroux (Night)

[A shrill scream cuts through the early night as a monster chases down the dark haired girl.]

Augh! This pisses me off!

[What does? The fact that she had the nerve to stick around longer than she should have knowing that there was a reason people don't stay after dark? Is it that it turned from day to night before she could get any solid information from Meridians about their sudden aggressive action? Or is it that she feels she could be taking on this beast rather than running from it if she had abilities back? Whatever it is, there's no time to explain, because she's sprinting for her life! Good thing she keeps herself in shape. Save her?]

V. Wildcard

[Standard wildcard option - if you have another idea just put it down and I'll roll with it. I intend to tag out for Bearing Fruit, but if you'd like your character to be there when Tohsaka bursts forth let me know. I'm leaning toward her eventually Harmonizing with Zenith so any Zenites are welcome to push her over that edge. PM for any questions or brainstorming!]

tighnari | genshin impact

[drytail]

i.

[ the dream shatters and reality sets in. what was him sitting and poring over over books, eyeing several leaves of plants he had gathered recently is fading into colorlessness and darkness. replacing it is a distinctly uncomfortable feeling of his ears being pinned underneath some kind of weight--- surrounded by something that makes him scrunch up his face in displeasure.

as he stirs and tries to break out of what feels like something familiar, the crystal slips into his hand as he simultaneously goes for a thick tendril. that it disappears from his eyes, even through the gloves, and it doesn't cross his mind that it has completely faded from view while he pulls himself up and towards what he hopes is the surface.

tighnari's ears pierce through the soil right after his hands do, then the rest of him soon follows. as he takes stock of his surroundings and his person, the irony isn't lost on him as he chuckles weakly to himself before he looks for others who might be in similar straits--- dire or not. if there's a grasping hand, a dirty or smudged cheek, or even someone looking incredibly worse for wear, he will be there in a heartbeat. ]

ii.

[ no matter where he goes, he feels terribly out of place. whether it's in springstar or highstorm, if it's not the fact his ears and tail make him stick out? it's in the way where he doesn't really feel a need to contribute to any kind of conversations that have to do with strategy or philosophy. he is a simple forest watcher and nothing more, and even then that carries no weight. a leaf floating in a breeze, not having yet touched the ground... drifting. just drifting.

though as his thoughts wane, both ears prick up at the mentioning of blight. something affecting the plants and animals. this is what causes tighnari to begin edging into the conversations, leaning into the tightly formed circles of those from either place.

at least, after some time, he realizes that he's not the only one that doesn't really fit. finding one of the shard-bearers would probably be helpful too--- unless one finds him first. whether it's a wagging tail or twitching fluffy ears that sort of tilt as he tries to discern what's actually being talked about... the forest watcher may not be in the forest right now, but he's still a scholar and thirsty for knowledge. ]

iii.

[ though he has no current stake in the matter, there are things that can be done regardless of his allegiance. wildlife needs to be fended off. people need to be protected. that's something he believes in. so, as he waves off a current round of watchers during one of the nights in alenroux, tighnari has a chance to observe his surroundings. see exactly what's going on here. this outpost in particular seems to be relatively well fortified, not lacking in defenders and what feels like good intentions...

whether it's someone coming up to check on him, or perhaps someone looking to sabotage some aspect of this defensive structure, tighnari's ears flick. he tightens his grip on the bow in his hand, tail gently swishing behind him as he continues to keep his eyes on the perimeter. ]

Link 🍎 The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

[bakedapple]

Ⅰ. BEARING FRUIT.

[ With the shocking, harrowing sight of his world falling to nothing still occupying his mind, Link awakes with a sharp gasp and instinctive thrash of his fists outwards. His bare knuckles hit nothing but velvety roots and leaves, and so he grabs at them, trying to make sense of what just happened. What is... this place? How did he get here? He looks around desperately. Plants. Just... plants, roots, leaves, the like. But he can smell more than that. Soil. Is he... is he buried, right now? Underground...?

If it weren't for that glowing gem, he would have to rely on touch alone to recognize the vegetation around him for what it is. As his panic begins to subside, he finds himself staring at it. Then, reaching for it. And finally, as he takes it, what little empty space there is around him begins to fill with dirt. Anyone above ground may hear a fresh, muffled cry of panic beneath their feet, followed by a calloused hand erupting from the earth like some kind of not-actually-dead undead.

Then, a second hand. The pair of hands flail fiercely around, vying for something to grab onto — anything. A root, a rock, an offered hand, or maybe the ankle of someone nearby. Whatever it is that Link finds, his hands latch onto it with an impressive iron grip and an equally impressive yank downwards, as he uses it to heave himself up through the loose dirt and vegetation. A soil-smudged face appears. Its owner chokes a deep, triumphant breath of air, with eyes still blanketed with dirt and clenched shut. ]

H-Hello? [ what is this thing he grabbed? he squeezes it tightly, unwilling to let go. Is someone there? ] Help! Please, help me out!

Ⅱ. FORUM.

[ The past few days have been a whirlwind. Even if it were easy to accept that Hyrule is gone, there is so much for him to have to grasp all at once. The deluge of information alone would be enough to overwhelm the young old man, who despite his status as Champion back home, has never felt comfortable thinking of himself as anything more than a dutiful soldier. The heavy thinking of heavy questions — he always left such things to those smarter and more deliberative than he. Impa, Purah... His fellow Champions... Zelda.

And yet, here he is, being asked to take sides in some grand conflict that he is a complete stranger to. They say he does not have to choose a side. They also say that the Meridian can help him get home. Link is unsure whether he believes that — he saw his world die, same as everyone else, apparently — but if there is any remote chance that it's true, well... the choice is almost made for him. Isn't it? ]

OPTION A (SPRINGSTAR): [ It is with this inclination towards the Meridian that Link wanders into the Tribune's forum. He is not here to ask any specific questions, but rather, to listen more openly to whatever information there is to learn here.

And... to eat. The feast does not go unrecognized. Link eyes the buffet tables like a man who hasn't eaten in days, even though he definitely, definitely has. Even if you were to strike up a conversation with him, he is noticeably distracted by the food. Or, maybe it's the food that has you talking to him — as when he does finally approach the feast, he wastes no time piling his plate high. If the city's food security is so low right now, Link is either an inconsiderate jerk for taking so much, or he has not yet been informed. ]

OPTION B (HIGHSTORM): [ In contrast, Link attends the forum in Highstorm more out of a sense of obligation. From what he's gathered, these two cities are amicable at the moment, but the prevailing mood hints that people are fearing — expecting — that to change soon. Link has no idea how soon, of course, nor does he really know anything about how the two cities have related to each other up until now. But should relations sour, he reasons, then this trip to Highstorm may be one of the few opportunities he'll have to see the place. The open invitation to new Shard-Bearers is the perfect justification for being there, even though he has already provisionally attuned to the Meridian.

The atmosphere in this place is noticeably different. He managed to dress appropriately, at least, although he does not enjoy the restrictive, stuffy tailoring of formal wear. Link is markedly less talkative at this forum, choosing to observe and eavesdrop when he can... but, the reflecting pool captures the entirety of his attention once he discovers it. For most of the evening, he can be found sitting at its edge, gazing into the water, with a look on his face that is anything but pleasantly nostalgic. Instead, he looks troubled, maybe even despairing, with a furrowed brow and slumping shoulders. Nevertheless, he does not look away from whatever it is that he's gazing down at. ]

Ⅲ. ALENROUX.

[ Link meets the call to arms with agreement. After everything he's seen and learned over the past week, this carries with it an almost comforting familiarity. They even provided him with basic weaponry of much better quality than what he was able to sniff out in the city so far. That, alone, makes participation in this campaign worth his time.

Springstar's stated justification for this takeover of Alenroux, while important to know, rests unexamined in the back of Link's mind. What place does he have to second guess any of it? He just got here. But, more importantly: Link doesn't feel that it's his place to question it anyway. Cyrus has offered him a way to save Hyrule. So, if he helps Springstar, it will shorten the time it takes to save it — or so they say. But even with that lingering doubt, what else is there for him to do? Link currently has no answer to that question. He has no interest in what Yima has to offer. He does not want a new world. He wants his world. His mountains and lakes, his forests, his beaches. The bears, the wild horses, and the fish in the rivers. Children playing on the hillsides, old women feeding their chickens. His friends. His princess.

These thoughts occupy his mind as his sword thunks into the scratched wood of the training dummy and stays there, the blade stuck. Frowning, he begins to pull on it to yank it free, when the crunch of a footstep cuts through his deep contemplation. As he turns to face the noise, the iliachtida dangling from neck swings slightly, glowing in the fading sunset twilight.

He doesn't recognize this person, but that's... pretty normal, for a guy who just got here. Considering where he is — the training grounds of a Meridian outpost, lined on one side with racks of both practice weapons and real weapons — he can only assume that this person is here to train. It does not occur to him that they may not even be a Meri in the first place. ]

Ⅳ. WILDCARD!

((The obligatory "or just tag him with your own prompt"! Pretty sure he'd be a Meridian, but not sure on the Aspect yet. You can poke me at lazdo if you wanna talk anything out first! (Or on Discord, for existing players who already know where to find me there. <3) Also, while my Link isn't a total mute, he doesn't talk a whole lot. Please & thank you for your patience if it takes a few tags for him to get talking. ^^;))

ifrit | arknights

[conflagrates]

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓

[ she breaks from the earth, panting and gasping, a dizzy panic at the edge of her vision threatening to close in around her. it feels—wrong, she feels wrong, the usual heat that should be flaring under her dirt-stained fingertips conspicuously, painfully absent. even her head is quiet, her everpresent companion gone in the wake of this new catastrophe. ]

Saria.....Silence?

[ she whimpers to herself, body shaking as she stares at her surroundings. the feeling of the ground encasing her, another restraint like the so many of the ones wrapped tight around her before, is too fresh in her mind for logic and common sense to find any sort of footing.

she hears a footstep. a snap of a branch. any noise at all, and it's enough to send her whirling, whole body tucked in on itself save for one hand that shoots out, a fistful of dirt crumbling through her clenched fingers. the only weapon she has now that her arts have been stripped from her. wide frenzied eyes stare at the person in front of her, assymetrical black tail lashing back and forth behind her. ]

S-stay back! Get away from me!

[ her voice is loud but trembling, the rough bite overlaid not enough to conceal the obvious fear underneath. ]

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

[ without the strict rules enforced on her at rhodes island, she revels in her freedom, footsteps quick and light as she scampers from place to place. unsurprisingly, she beelines for the food first. the forum holds no interest for her, the talk of politics and military business going straight through one ear and out the other. boring.

instead of showing any consideration, she piles her plate high with food from every source possible. it quickly becomes a balancing act, meat skewers teetering near the edge of her place while slices of cheese and bread fan out willy-nilly. quite frankly, it's a ridiculous amount of food for a 5'3" girl, but that doesn't stop her from clutching it defensively to her chest every time someone looks at her the wrong way.

her voice rings out loud and harsh, out of place against the otherwise relaxed atmosphere ]

Oi! What're you staring at? Don't even think about taking any of it, it's mine!

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

[ the reflecting pools are amazing.

even the prospect of (more) free food and bustling company can't pull her away from the water's edge, ifrit on both hands and knees as she leans over the glassy surface, breathless in anticipation of the next image to spread across the water.

a small plate of pastries sits next to her, forgotten in the wake of this incredible discovery. the water shimmers in front of her. ifrit cries out in joyous surprise. ]

Look! [ she's not shy in waving the nearest person over, hands excited in the air. ] It's the cafeteria! You can really see it!

[ the wide smile on her face makes her look even younger than her already youthful age, her worries momentarily forgotten in the wake of something old and familiar. ]

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

[ if you have a better idea for a prompt, i'm all ears. i'm pulling her after the events of the records of originium manga; given that it hasn't (officially) been translated into english yet, please let me know if you'd like me to avoid spoilers! ]

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf

[mensrea]

I. SPRINGSTAR – SEAT OF THE TRIBUNE, HELIOPOLIS | MEET-AND-GREET

[Well, the atmosphere at the Meri-hosted forum is pleasant…until a certain young man carrying a chip on his shoulder arrives. He’s dressed in the same clothes that he crawled out of the earth wearing—namely: maroon-colored canvas sneakers; worn, gray jeans; and a thin, blue raglan hoodie—with clumps of dirt still clinging desperately to the fabric. Though the actual hood of said hoodie has been drawn up over the back of his head strategically, the vibrant, blood-red Shard buried in the left-side of his neck remains easy enough to spot at the right angle. Unconsciously, his hand drifts to rub at the area every so often, the neighboring skin pink and puffy from too much attention.

Maybe you don’t notice him immediately. After all, why would you? He appears to be little more than an average human being. Nothing about him stands out. At least, not initially. But as the hour inevitably drags on, something begins to spoil the agreeable ambiance. Genial smiles fade. Conversation grows awkward and stilted. And the source of the negative energy that’s poisoning the informational session? Why, it’s none other than Mieczysław “Stiles” Stilinski himself. From unassuming group to unassuming group does he slink, expression carved as if from stone. Wherever he insinuates himself, people seem to become rapidly uncomfortable. The Californian teenager takes no prisoners—assailing anyone he speaks to with a barrage of pointed, intrusive inquiries. A lucky few manage to find excuses to take their leave, hastily fleeing from the Tribune with nary a backward glance. Others are not so fortunate.

His current crowd of unwilling victims looks particularly harassed. Should you wander closer, you might hear the tail end of a diatribe poorly masked as discussion.]

What do you mean, “I don’t know?” [scoffs Stiles in a tone painted overbright with acid.] You’ve lived here how long and you can’t even answer a basic question like that? Give me a break.

[An older woman draws herself up, flinty eyes narrowed. Tragically, her ensuing stern lecture doesn’t faze the aggrieved party crasher.]

Go pound sand, [he tells her unkindly, his own eyes dark with an inexplicable emotion.] You’re wasting my time. I mean, hello? Why attend an event like this if you’re an established local with no useful information to share? What is this to you—some kind of hoity-toity soiree where you can gawk at and gossip about newbie outworlders? Jesus Christ, get lost already.

[Everyone present within that group proves more than happy to oblige; they disperse, muttering in hushed whispers to each other. Yet Stiles hardly claims the bearing of smug victor. If anything, he appears…disappointed? Whatever the case may be, the moment that he catches sight of you lingering nearby, the young man slings a challenging look your way.]

Got something to say?

II. HIGHSTORM – YIMA’S MANOR, THE COURT | MEET-AND-GREET
cw: disturbing imagery/linked image

[Flute glass in hand, Stiles stands at the edge of a reflecting pool. Today, his manner is just as subdued as that of the resident Zenites, who gracefully glide to and from social circles behind him. There are no visible traces of the misplaced, pent-up rage and grief that had plagued him the other afternoon. In fact, his countenance is almost eerily blank—revealing nothing as he gazes down at the still, luminescent waters. But beneath the pale moon’s light, even a complete stranger will be able to discern how ashen his face is. If you approach, you might potentially glimpse what has so transfixed and disturbed him. Across the glittering surface of the pool, a gruesome image glowers back: Stiles himself, impaled fatally through the chest upon a slender metal beam, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as glassy brown eyes seem to sightlessly stare you down. This is only the memory of a hallucination that’s haunted him recently, though you won’t know that.

With a rough start, Stiles realizes he is no longer alone. The young man jerks guiltily away from the reflecting pool, mouth opening and closing on a dozen different denials that go unspoken. He has no idea whether or not you saw what his traitorous memories conjured and tries to glean that detail from your perceptible reaction.]

Some party, huh?

[Stiles chuckles weakly. His voice is shaking. In an attempt to inject a cheap imitation of normalcy into the encounter, the teenager knocks back the wine as if it were watered-down beer—resulting in an embarrassing amount of choking, sputtering, and wheezing.]

Wh-what… Oh my god, that—ugh, that was so nasty. [Nose wrinkled with disgust, he actually smacks his mouth several times in succession as if savoring the taste of the offensive alcohol.] Okay, dude, seriously? Take my advice. I’ll offer it to you free of charge. Do not drink this stuff. Pretty sure I just swallowed the girliest excuse for body wash ever. There are bubbles attacking my guts right now. Oh, but—no hate. Girl body wash? Great. Fantastic. Love the stuff. You familiar with, uh, that product line by Philosophy? Totally recommend their “Melon Daiquiri” shower gel. Or maybe you’re more a “Salted Citrus” kinda person. No? Cool. Never mind.

[And with that, he finally shuts up.]

III. SPRINGSTAR – KOWLOON, THE BELOW | PRE-INVASION EXPLORATION
cw: potential underage drug use

[If there’s one truth Stiles is intimately familiar with, it’s that valuable intel sometimes flows best in the seediest of underbellies. But to his genuine surprise, Kenos’ criminal underground doesn’t seem to exist beneath Highstorm that he’s been able to discover. Okay, sure. He might’ve prematurely pigeonholed the aforementioned twilight city as a perfect setting for sordid corruption, lurking insidiously out of sight. Sue him. Once Stiles learns about Kowloon, however—after snooping and eavesdropping and greasing palms with gold staters he absolutely legitimately earned, yessir—the young man vows never to fall prey to stereotype fallacies again. (A vow that he will undoubtedly break in a handful of hours.) Anyway…

Though he admittedly does have his fair share of idiotic moments, what with being a seventeen-going-on-eighteen-year-old boy harboring questionable interests and hobbies, Stiles isn’t, in general, stupid. Actually, the fact of the matter is: Stiles is quite intelligent. Perhaps not the borderline genius that his longtime crush and friend Lydia Martin may be, but inarguably gifted. So, despite inclinations for spontaneity and improvision, he takes his time to prepare. All the while, Stiles keeps in mind the subtle glint of malicious amusement that he’d observed in the last Meri he interrogated. That asshole had hidden something from him. And a keen sense of intuition insists that that something involves how specifically to enter the Below—an intuition that is validated as Stiles at last slips past the aqueduct entrance into the tunnels. At the first fork, he reluctantly pauses his journey. Continuing on ignorantly would be beyond stupid. Instead, Stiles adopts the relaxed, confident air of someone who belongs and waits. Eventually, he’s rewarded; a dark-haired individual who looks similar in age enters the passageway roughly forty minutes later. Stiles offers a companionable nod in greeting that goes unreturned, then watches intently as the stranger disappears down the right tunnel. He allows a twenty-second head start before quietly following. Stealth is by no means a strong suit, yet the other youth never acknowledges his presence. By the time they reach the underground city, Stiles has already memorized the correct path through the Below.

Upon entering Kowloon, Sasuke seems to melt into shadow and vanish (which is just as well, because Stiles hadn’t been planning on tipping for the unnegotiated guidance). Undeterred by the hostile looks shot his way by locals, Stiles begins his time-consuming exploration—winding in and out of gambling parlors, drug dens, and fighting rings.

A. You might find him in the Crown, nimble fingers lightly relieving unguarded pockets of money. He overstays his welcome; a target catches him in the act, seizing his arm and wrenching it painfully behind his back. Meeting your eyes, he tries to silently plead for help. Do you?

B. You might run into him in Draumahol, examining an unattended hookah with sharp curiosity. Maybe you overheard an employee previously mention how toxic that station’s tobacco is for humans. Maybe you simply object to what appears to be an underaged young man hanging around hard-hitting drugs. Better hurry—Stiles is reaching for the hose.

C. You might stumble upon him in one of the caverns, seated on a fluorescent mushroom cap and staring moodily into the distance. His knees are pulled up to his chest, a position that makes him look especially vulnerable. If you draw near, he’ll glance mistrustfully at you but say nothing in protest. Really, he can use the company.]

IV. WILDCARD

( ooc | None of these prompts work for you but you’re interested in threading? Feel free to hit Stiles up with something different or plot with me! For reference: Stiles is a seventeen-year-old human and taken from the start of Teen Wolf season 5b, episode 1. If your character can read Japanese, they will likely recognize the kanji that his Shard represents. If you have any questions, let’s chat! )

nicholas d. wolfwood | trigun stampede.

[kros]

i. BEARING FRUIT

[ dreams never stay warm and comforting, they always twist into something much worse. it starts small, flashes of a surgical table, of bright lights, of his own screams as flesh is sliced into and mended. he thinks this to be one of the very same dreams, another to weigh on him in his waking hours. but it isn't, it's different. instead of bright lights and surgical tools the dream shifts to darkness, far-reaching and consuming, the stars become eyes and something wrenches in his gut. fear. it swallows him up before he can react, a scream caught in his throat as everything goes dark. you failed, nico, you couldn't protect us.

it is the dampness that brings him back to himself, soft against his hands, against his cheek. strange and almost comforting, a far cry from the endless amount of course sand he has known for all his life. dirt, real dirt, the stuff parents would tell their kids about before bed, the stuff that only filled people's dreams. his eye snap open, wide with panic, reaching to take a handful of dirt and grass between trembling fingers.

what the hell? ]

option a.

[ sorry, where you relaxing after digging yourself out of the ground? or were you looking for some other poor soul to help out? regardless you're bearing witness to a single hand bursting out of the soil, blindly grabbing at whatever it can as its owner attempts to pull himself out of the ground. help, maybe? or don't, that is fine too because a second hand shoots out of the ground no long after, this one just as frantically groping as the other. maybe it grabs a hold of your ankle, or wrist, or whatever else might be close by. and if you listen hard enough, you might just hear an endless muffled swearing coming from the dirt. ]

option b.

[ once free from the ground wolfwood simply sits, exhausted from his own escape, digging a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and pulling one out to light. look, this is a lot, alright? he needs a moment to actually process everything that is going on right now. a moment he isn't going to have, of course, as once the cigarette is lit he feels something grab at his wrist, and he yells. ]

What the fuck!? [ thankfully he is quick to recognize it as another poor soul emerging from their underground cacoon, grabbing hold of it as he shifts in position, pulling as hard as he can. ] Hold your breath or you'll be breathing dirt!

[ that should be obvious. ]

ii. SPRINGSTAR

[ still with specs of dirt dusting his jacket, wolfwood takes his seat with as much grace as a teenager being forced to socialize. it's all... a lot. the venue, the people, and the spread of food, he only manages to settle on a glass of wine to help calm his nerves. every time he is offered food he eyes it wearily, accepting only when there is no other choice. it leaves him with a bit of a collection on his hands, one that he doesn't seem to touch even as his stomach growls in protest.

otherwise perhaps sometime later you might run into wolfwood while exploring the various locations around the city; he is very interested in the bar though definitely not for the name, the below because really birds of a feather, you might encounter him nearby the coliseum drawn by the sound of combat. it's a game of where's wolfwood, come find him! ]

iii. HIGHSTORM

[ it's the pool that draws his attention first upon arriving. it makes sense for a man who has lived his entire life on a planet as burnt up and barren as his, for a man who knows too well the texture of sand and all the places it can get caught in. water is something only ever seen in smaller doses, in bottles to carry you between settlements, nothing so large and seemingly useless as this. it's only natural that he finds himself drawn to it, ignoring whatever else is going on around, bobbing down to squint at the pool and the moons it reflects. it's beautiful, he'll give it that, and for some reason it annoys him. ]

Tch.

[ for any watching they will see wolfwood suddenly strike at the water, disturbing its surface, and shooting back up to stand, angry - before turning around and stalking away. huh, wonder what happened.

otherwise wolfwood can also be found around highstorm getting his exploration on; maybe you find him by the field of fantasia (not his best decision), even about the sunset gardens having taken a particular interest in the bathhouses, or even amongst the bauble market glancing over its wide assortment of products and goods. it's another game of where's wolfwood! for either or them please feel free to hit me up with any ideas you might have or whatever! ]

iv. ALENROUX (unaligned)

[ it doesn't take too long for the talk to occupation to reach wolfwood's ears, people talk after all and it seems like news spreads like wildfire in a place like this. must help not having seas of sand in between settlements. regardless curiosity drags him towards alenroux, if anything he'll get a better grasp on these factions by seeing how their work.

so that is exactly what he does. wolfwood travels between outposts, alenroux, and any other general locations and simply observes, making no effort to really help, and making it incredibly easy for people to assume the worst of him. could he be a spy? perhaps. he does take an interest in the number of troops moving about, the general layout of the outposts, as well as peculiar people much like himself who go about them. ]

v. WILDCARD

[ if none of these work for you please hit me up either by PM on this journal or at valyria and we can brainstorm! ]

Sieglinde Sullivan | Kuroshitsuji (NEW)

[grunehexe]

01 ❧ DREAMS OF THE END [TREE OF LIFE] ❧ TRÄUME VON DER WIEDERGEBURT
OOC: Just one taker, please!

[What could a little witch dream of but pleasant things, on the evening in which she fulfills the promise of her ancestors? Generation after generation had devoted themself to the leadership of Wolfsschlucht village and the women sheltering there, to the creation of the Ultimate Magic, sacrificing even their legs in the process, so surely... She will be rewarded. She will dream of the Outside World...

But instead, she is greeted with a vision of doom.

The stars are no longer charts by which she would read the future of the harvests, they are eyes which gaze down in condemnation, poisoning the gazes of her villagers and manservant, frozen in place no matter how she tries to command them to move, to flee. She can't do it by herself, not on feet bound to half the size a girl's should be, she trips, she falls... and the darkness swallows her screams. Any respite she thought she had, safe in the cocoon of leaf and earth, is buried by dirt.

And somewhere in the Tree of Life... a pale hand far too small to belong to an adult breaks through the surface of the soil, grasping desperately for survival.]

02 ❧ THE OUTSIDE WORLD [HIGHSTORM] ❧ DIE AUßENWELT

[At some point, after the shock of her arrival and the time spent in bed recuperating afterwards... the girl with the bound feet is given a small crutch to assist her in getting around. With its help, still feeling as if she were in a fever dream, she manages to leave the room she's been staying in behind, tottering outside into the eternal twilight of Highstorm. Distracted by the two moons in the sky above she stumbles and loses her balance, falling with a yelp onto her hands and knees in a messy sprawl, but once there...

She doesn't get up. Her long black hair obscures her face, her fingers curl uselessly on the courtyard stones, and... a small hiccup of sound betrays her upset. And it isn't because of her new bruises. She is alone in a foreign land in her chemise, her tiny feet wrapped in bandages, not a single member of her village still alive, when all she had wanted was-]

Is this really the Outside World I wished for... ?

03 ❧ GATHERING INFORMATION [HIGHSTORM or SPRINGSTAR] ❧ SAMMLE WEISHEIT

[A few days later, once she has actually recovered... there are meetings to attend to. There, she is told, she will find her answers... and so it is there that she goes. Whether you have been discussing the recent Blight, the nature of the factions, the rumblings of tensions after the recent Oracle shift, or the differences between the two cities... once one conversation partner leaves, another potential one chimes in from... down... down... look down...

To the young lady perched on a seat nearby, who chimes in with a,]

You, there... Do come closer and converse with me. I have great interest in what I overheard you speaking about just now.

[If you were just chatting about the quality of the food being provided at the meetings, at least have the decency to bring over some of it to share.]

04 ❧ WILDCARD ❧ PLATZHALTER

[Got something else in mind? Shoot me a PM, hit me in Discord chat, or message stormcoming to plot!]

BONDREWD, THE NOVEL ( definitely zenith, likely stargazer )

[dawnlord]

— BEARING FRUIT.

Aah, wonderful — ! How wonderful!

[ The moment he emerges from the ground, he is singing strange praise into the sky. Arms spread, palms cradling the air itself as he turns the glowing line of his dark helm to the body of the Tree of Life, following the colossal height of it far, far into the spread of its branches and towering crown. If he sounds as though he is a little in love with everything before him, it is not wrong; unlike the majority of Shardbearers, he arrives joyously. The calm set of his shoulders does not betray a man (?) who is upset by the dream all share, but one who instead has already assessed his situation and decided to be delighted with it.

Dirt clings to the tread of his heavy boots, into the seams of metal helm and the —

flexing, metal exoskeleton that lashes behind him. A lizard-like tail, dotted with glowing, violet lights that blur into long lines of soft neon, like he is aglow from within. The overcoat he arrives disguises the general shape of his body, the ends tattered and worn from age and use. He appears to be less a clean-cut figure, and more someone who has seen the ages pass and taken an active role in them. His voice, deep and methodical, turns from the praise he issues before the world, towards something inquisitive.

He turns upon the one who has found themselves in his vicinity. His tone is slow, low, and with no facial features to be seen, there is an element of inhumanity to him. A gentle-voiced void, creeping and catching its bearings: ] To be able to bear witness to another world is the most incredible gift, is it not?

— TWO CITIES.

[ Eventually, Bondrewd makes it to civilization. Not because he wishes to — no, he would liked to have lingered at the Tree of Life, to have taken samples from its bark and leaf, to have delved among the roots to investigate what remained of the dryad that had once lived there, but he had no instruments. Not even a notebook to jot down his errant thoughts, and thus he had to abandon scientific progress for the moment, promising the Tree of Life he would be back. He would return. Both a promise, and a threat.

Dutifully, he attends both informationals, never one to shirk his duty to adhere to method.

A. IN SPRINGSTAR, he can be observed marveling at the food. A spread unlike anything he has ever seen before, and somewhere in between his arrival and his attendance, he has managed to scrounge up a pad of paper and a pen. The platters before him remain untouched, while he feverishly sketches the still-life of their existence onto the paper, filling the page with dark-lined, foreign writing. Taking notes, perhaps, on the fare. Or worse, on all that he sees before him. ]

Excuse me.

[ He advances, frighteningly intense, upon anyone who is actually eating at Springstar's event, brandishing his pen thoughtfully as he taps it against the heavy, dark metal of his helm. ]

Would you mind describing what you eat? The texture, the taste, the degree of satisfaction you feel when it fills you — for example.

B. AND IN HIGHSTORM, he has hardly needed to speak with the Lady, to know what he wishes above all else. The knowledge that she is able to pluck important things from the flow of time itself is enticing, and how badly he wishes to strap Zenith's beautiful, mysterious leader to a cool, metal table and see exactly what grants her this power. Is it her age? Is there something to her biology? What are the properties of her Shard — if she even has one.

He even looks like he belongs, in the deep, darkened realm of Highstorm; black-and-violet in appearance, and fastidiously put together. He's shined his helm, his shoes, adjusted the dark cravat around his throat — and thrown himself into his lust for work, for information. ]

You say there was a situation, involving the — combining of souls? And the shards we have within our bodies are the embodiment of the soul? How wonderful! How clever, to prove the existence of the soul in all things by forcing it to be observable. I must wonder, oh, I must wonder then —

[ His tone twists, curious and clever: ] Does that mean those without Shards do not have souls?

— ALENROUX.

A. DAYTIME. [ By the time he reaches Alenroux, it is as a Zenith collaborator. He burns with the energy of Highstorm, and seems not at all bothered by the mistrust that Springstar's forces show to him. After all, he has made his choice, the same as anyone else before him has; there is no judgment from him, as he is urged to step away from the outpost and retreat, for he will be permitted no closer without a Meridian escort in the daylight. And at night, the guards intone, we will simply shoot you, escort or not. ]

Of course, of course! I only wished to meet with the Meridian that may be within the outpost, if you would be so kind as to let them know that 'Bondrewd' awaits them outside, and that I have queries for them — I would be grateful.

B. NIGHTTIME. [ A beast roars, somewhere in the dark. Tangled with the hostile bellow is the high shriek of another, a fearful voice that begins to scream and scream — apologies and pleas for aid, while the heavy brush and standing trees shake with the impact of whatever monster looms in the evening. It chases someone, likely a guard who has stepped but an inch too far beyond safe territory. Alenroux is a place not unlike the Abyss, to Bondrewd; beautiful, tamable, full of elements to examine and research and catalogue and understand. And it is deadly. The guard will likely die to the teeth and claws of the thing that pursues her.

In fact, she breaks the treeline, sagging and heaving for breath, moments before the monster does. It is sinuous, equipped with powerful back legs like a panther, and its muscles bunch as it slows — preparing to spring upon the guardswoman, once and for all. She is so close.

( He thinks, for a moment, to observe her death. To watch the way the monster falls upon her, how it dines and what parts of her body it will favor first as it eats her. Will it eat her? Does it only seek her body to toy with? Aah, how wonderful. )

He steps forth, a sleek figure of black and glowing, violet light that slots himself into position between the fleeing guardswoman and the encroaching beast. Steadily, he lifts his arm, cocking his elbow at the barreling monster like a rifle. Upon what appeared to be a blocky elbow pad, a pool of white-and-cornflower blue light begins to shine, and: ] Sparagmos.

[ The precise beam slices through the foreleg of the monster, severing it and sending it stumbling with a howl of shock. But, not pain. Despite that it stumbles, the monster seems to try to continue putting weight on a limb that no longer exists, confused and briefly distracted by the strangeness of it. ]

Oya oya, [ Bondrewd purrs in the interim, looking back to the guardswoman — and the one who has just joined him, in kind. ] Go to safety, little one. We will handle this matter on your behalf.

[ WILL WE? ]

— OOC.

[ Bondrewd is a guy who has Literally Sacrificed his Humanity and he vibes with Literally Anything and Everything, so don't even second guess that intensive or wacky idea you have. He's definitely going to join the Zenith faction, and may be a Stargazer in aspect, so pretend like he is atm. Here is a sneak peek at what he's like (pax that's just music — YEAH, YEAH HIS THEME SONG FUCKS). Think Shou Tucker, but actually a REALLY GREAT DAD!

You can find me on cryptids or at PAX#8074 for questions or plotting. ]

Veyle | Fire Emblem Engage | Zenith Exalt

[fellspirit]

I. BEARING FRUIT
[Veyle dreams. She dreams that darkness finally took Elyos, that her father had his wish, and that she was gone along with everything else. In the end, it's almost a relief.

But not quite. She awakes with a start and a gasp for air, and a strange amethyst-like stone suspended above her that looks... almost like it could be a fragment of her own dragonstone. She's afraid of it for a moment, but it also doesn't seem right to leave it, so she gingerly takes it.

Is it the right thing to do? Maybe it would stay buried down here, with her. But she can hear movement or a voice, muffled nearby. Another survivor, maybe...? She tentatively pushes the dirt aside and pulls herself up and out of the earth, clutching the Shard to her chest. She's a slight girl dressed in a (slightly dirty) white dress, barefoot, with broken chains around her ankles. She locks eyes with another survivor, newly arrived like her or not, and the selfish relief passes into a realisation of the gravity of what happened. This person lost their home, too. She seems to be in a state of shock, or else on the verge of bursting into tears.]

I-I didn't... I never meant... [Then she blurts it out quickly, like a confession:] I think... this is my fault.


II. TWO CITIES - HIGHSTORM
[Though Veyle is instinctively afraid of large gatherings, Kathova nonetheless manages to coax her into attending the meeting at Highstorm. She acquires a new white dress and some small heels (though no one in the manor yet has been able to coax her to take off the chains around her ankles). While changing helps her feel a little better -- and fit in a little more for the occasion -- she's still too spooked to approach anyone for information.

Eventually, it's hunger that lures her over to the buffet table, and she piles a few meats and cheeses onto her plate to nibble on between the important business of... lurking. She's reaching for some crackers when she realises someone has the same idea as her, and she withdraws her hand, trying to sound a little less nervous than she feels.]

Oh, sorry! You can have them.


III. TWO CITIES - MERIDIAN
[Veyle also attends the gathering in Springstar. Though she's leaning towards Zenith and the kindness Yima had showed her, she wondered what it was about Meridian that meant people there just... hadn't given up. Shouldn't they? It seems so much easier not to fight what had already come to pass. The heavy military presence here makes this place more daunting than Highstorm, but so far, no one has been unkind to her, though that's perhaps because she hasn't harmonised yet.

Also unlike Highstorm, she has more confidence to approach strangers this time, only wringing her hands slightly as she stops beside someone and speaks up to get their attention. They might be Meridian, Zenith or neither; she has no real way of telling.]

Hello... Um, can I ask you a few questions?


IV. WILDCARD
[hit me up with something else! my plurk is moonsilver or my pms are open if you want to hash anything out.]

traveler (lumine) | genshin impact | undecided, stargazer

[unalign]

i. bearing fruit

[ she's endured practically everything and anything that can be endured. from being imprisoned to falling down a cliff to being thrown across a hall and hitting a marble wall, she's somehow weathered all of it without losing any important limbs or body parts. but lumine would like to think that she's never been buried alive before.

perhaps if her journey in teyvat had continued, if teyvat itself hadn't disintegrated beneath her feet, then someone might have attempted to bury her alive at least once. she wouldn't be surprised.

still, here she is, pushing through the soft, suffocating soil, her other hand curled around her chest as if protecting something. it's a moment later when her hand grasps nothing but air and she half-panics, half-rejoices, patting the ground around her as if trying to figure out where she is, how she'll get out and if there's someone out there who could drag her out and explain to her what's going.

if she had known morse code, she'd be tapping "PULL ME OUT" in morse code on the ground.

of course, she doesn't realize she's completely naked, covered in dirt and sap, a realization that'll only sink in once she finally managed to get out and take a violent intake of breath. ]

Thank you ... [ give her a moment to compose herself, please, to catch her breath and look around. ] Have you pulled out a little fairy from the ground, too?

[ because paimon is missing. ]

ii. two cities

SPRINGSTAR. [ it's easier to eavesdrop when people think you're not eavesdropping. and people think you're not eavesdropping when you're busy piling food on top of a plate, chewing thoughtfully as if preoccupied by other, more pressing thoughts.

and that's what lumine does, lingering near table with a plate in hand, her eyes trained on a pillar across the room, while she's feasting on souvlaki and meze. it painfully reminds her of sumeru, of its well-seasoned vegetables and grilled meat. she wonders how everyone is, if they managed to escape the fate of her dream, if ... she's declined a few invitations to sit on the chaise lounges, making an excuse that her stomach doesn't fare well if she eats reclining.

her ears, however, perk at any gossip, talk, whispers around her that people think she won't listen in on. that's usually how it is in these parties, right? her gaze slowly shifts, soon falling onto two meri talking in hushed tones, a worried expression on their faces. ]

Huh, [ is all she says as her hand moves towards to grab another souvlaki—only to grab someone's hand/wrist/fingers/what-have-you. she blinks and then smiles apologetically. ] Haha. Sorry, I was zoning out.

HIGHSTORM. [ she's not eating, for once.

instead, lumine lingers near the pool. she'd normally try to listen in on the conversations, and there were a few zenites who tried to catch her attention. but as it stands, the images on the pool interest her more than any conversation about world. perhaps it's due to the lateness of her arrival, or perhaps it's just the fact that certain thoughts will always surface in her mind, no matter how much she tries to push them down.

a face swims to the surface of the pool, its features similar to hers: a halo of blond hair framing golden eyes, except the edges are sharper. masculine.

her lips thin, her eyes narrow, her expression darkening like an eclipse blocking out the sun. but the image soon ripples and dissolves the moment someone approaches her, a proverbial pebble thrown onto the placid pool, like her thoughts have been disturbed. lumine looks up and any trace of remorse, misery or distress disappears from her face just like that image from the pool. her smile is bright. ]

Sorry, you were saying something?

iii. wildcard

[ sheeeee might also be in alenroux because fighting is what she does best! let me know if you'd like a specific starter or if you want to hash things out, yay ]

Breq | Ancillary Justice

[breq]

I. Waking Up

[ The dream startles her awake. Her eyes snap open and with a harsh rush of a breath in, she sits up, claws her way out of the dirt and sap. It's in her close-cropped hair. It stains her face. She blinks to clear her vision, trying to make this make sense with what she knows has happened. With what she understands. This is not the station. This is not anywhere she knows (and she has been on many, many worlds). She tries to breathe.

She doesn't panic.

Ancillaries don't feel panic, after all. And she is an ancillary. She is Justice of Toren. Breathe.

Her voice is a croak. There are others here, people she doesn't know. ]

Where are we?

[ And how did they get here? ]


II. Springstar

[ She's had her dream; Breq has seen the images of these people in her mind, telling her that they know what she wants. That they can give her what she desires. She's not sure that's true. There's always someone, somewhere, who will promise you the world - especially after you've just lost everything familiar. Sadly, losing everything is not alien to her, although the last time had not been nearly this complete. So she watches and wanders instead, inspecting the city she passes through. She recognizes signs of shortages, sees it in the eyes of small children and in those who are forced back to the edges of society. For all the richness on display, Breq thinks there's a certain hollowness to it.

How, a part of her wonders, do they intend to restore an entire galaxy, worlds upon worlds, when they struggle to feed people here?

She's in a small shop, watching the street traffic go by. She turns to the proprietor with a little nod. ]

A bowl of tea, please.

[ Do they serve tea in bowls here? She'll find out. ]

III. Highstorm

[ They are very formal, aren't they?

At least Breq thinks so. There's something of the Radch ceremony about them. The idea of appearances. Of being exactly so. Of everyone having the right place. It's an interesting contrast to where she was in Springstar. Although they're more subdued here. And it isn't home. Neither of these places are. The reflecting pool gathers her attention and she pauses to look and then-

It shows her the austere halls of her. The Justice of Toren. Ancillaries and officers and-

Awn.

She tears herself away.

She is not angry. Ancillaries do not get angry. ]

...how do they do that?

[ It's what she wonders. ]

Wildcard!

[ HMU. ]

Shun'ya Iijima | Original Character (Soul Hackers 2 verse)

[foxchild]

✫ I. Bearing Fruit

[Shun'ya clawed himself free from the loamy soil, half-blinded with dirt and heaving for air like he'd just finished sprinting a marathon. There was an animal-like franticness in his movements, born from the lingering unpleasantness of waking up trapped underground and the nightmare that had rushed on its heels - but more than that, Shun'ya despised dark, cramped spaces, and nothing was more cramped than waking up in your own shallow grave.

Ugh.]

Fucking... demons! [He wrenched his leg free of the ground and staggered clumsily to his feet.] I swear, if I find out this was some Phantom stooge's idea of a joke-

[But his heated growling stopped abruptly when he took stock of his surroundings, his blue eyes wide with confused disbelief. This was... definitely not a park in Tokyo somewhere. He didn't think he was in Tokyo at all. The Dark Realm, maybe? But even that was a direct reflection of the human world...

He didn't have time to puzzle it over, though. Nearby the soil began to shift, new arrivals clawing out of their own shallow graves. He watched dumbly until the first human hand pushed through the soil, prompting him to rush over in an instinctual need to help.

Be prepared to feel a strong hand clasp your own and try to haul you into the land of the living!]

✫ II. Springstar

[After coming to terms with the fact that no, he was no longer in Tokyo, in Japan, or even on earth, Shun'ya adapted quickly to his new reality. There was no point wailing about how impossible it was, or demanding to be taken back to his world - because, really, not a lot had changed for him. This place was also embroiled in a factional war, about the same goddamn thing too, yet was marginally better because there weren't 1738285474354 demons or Phantom Society minions lunging out at him from alleyways.

In fact, this place was a notable step-up.

But, it was best to scope out the options laid out before him. No point rushing into a decision or whatnot. So, upon arriving at Springstar, he lurked mostly on the fringes at first, observing the atmospherics and presentation of both the forum and even the buffet table. Once people had began to settle, however, with food or drink in hand, Shun'ya identified a suitable target for interrogation and beelined for them.]

Hey, I don't suppose you'd be willing to help out a poor lost soul like me? [His smile was friendly, and the combination of his baby blue eyes and freckles made him seem guileless.] I'm new here, and I've got no idea what's going on.

✫ III. Highstorm

[After scoping out Springstar, Highstorm was next on the list, and Shun'ya noted the stark differences immediately. Like before, he prowled the fringes of the gathering initially, observing the general atmospherics and interactions between people. Truthfully, there weren't much differences between the two groups in terms of people - they weren't all hooked up to a Zenith or Meridian hivemind, marching in lockstep for one, and it seemed dissent was tolerated, unlike back home with Yatagarasu - but in terms of attitude and presentation? Yeah, there were some differences.

After his observations were concluded, he picked out a suitable target for interrogation and trotted over to them, his friendly mask expertly plastered on.]

Excuse me~ [And there he was, tapping you on the shoulder and aiming that dazzling, sunny smile your way.] Hey! Sorry, I was just wondering if you could help me out? I'm new here, so I'm a little lost...

✫ IV. Wildcard

(OOC: Feel free to toss any random scenario at me here! He'll be bouncing between the two cities in the lead up to the invasion, so can be caught out and about, and I'll roll with anything. If you wanna plan something specific though, feel free to PM this account or prod me on discord (this is kiva!))