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Entry tags:
- !event,
- #open,
- ariel,
- baroona,
- beverly crusher,
- castiel,
- chizuru yukimura,
- d'artagnan,
- emma swan,
- fatima merali,
- felix,
- garrett (thief),
- hajime saitou,
- ivan karelin,
- johannes cabal,
- killian jones/captain hook,
- kyoya hibari,
- leanne,
- leonie barrow,
- mikael graccio,
- neal cassidy,
- sanosuke harada,
- sapphire
Week 18 | Intro log | Open
CHARACTERS: EVERYBODY!
DATE: 3/30/2014 (Week 18, Day 1)
RATING: PG-13 (Please let the mods know if a thread requires a higher rating!)
SUMMARY: Tracks or no tracks, COMPASS is going to bring in the new test subjects.
This time there is no familiar train whistle but rather the deep low echo of a ship's horn. To some it may hearken back to the days on the Charon, but regardless of any possible memories the noise stirs up, one thing is certain: trouble.
Shortly after the last, mournful sound echos across the night sky, a text blast from COMPASS will push out across all the pocket watches; new arrivals and those on the campus. It comes across as both text and audio.
It would appear that despite the fact that the tracks are only halfway repaired, this has not stopped COMPASS from bringing in new arrivals. The ship's horn is a good clue about where these new arrivals may be located and as indicated by the text/audio blast, it is no where safe.
The ship's horn was heard not only by the residents on campus but also by the cultists crawling through the thick jungle overgrowth. The new arrivals face not only heavy rain, humid temperatures and dense vegetation spread out across the city, they will also be facing angry groups of cultists, eager to get to potential sacrificial victims before anyone can get back to the safety of the campus.
[OOC: Some quick FAQs
✘ Where are the new arrivals? The new arrivals were brought by ship to the Zelien docks. They were NOT brought aboard the Charon and will have no memory of being on the ship. Just one minute going about their business and the next they've arrived on a dock, facing a city that has been overgrown with a jungle like landscape, in the dark humidity and pouring rain.
✘ So about those cultists? Important note about fighting cultists!
The cultists are human and they will be attacking with machetes, Tommy guns, 1920s circa hand guns, sheer numbers and the support of the "Great Old Ones."
What this means is that reasonably speaking PCs have can get in two to three kill shots through technology, special abilities, superpowers and then the "Great Old One" will step in to level the playing field. The "Great Old One" does NOT give the cultists any sort of attack advantage but they will 'neutralize' the PCs special attacks by rendering it ineffective against the cultists.
A special attack is anything unique to your character above baseline 1920s human.
The PCs can still engage in hand to hand, machete to machete or 1920s gun fire with the cultists but the cultists will have the advantages of numbers and no fear of dying.
There was a question about more passive special abilities such as shape-shifting, psychic illusion or defensive powers. As a rule these will work up to 10 minutes (long enough to get your character in trouble!) and then their effectiveness will be neutralized by the Great Old One.
To clarify this DOES NOT mean the ability (whether attacks or defensive) is taken away from your character, only that they cease to have an effect on the cultists.
✘ Wonderful. What other threats are the new arrivals facing? Along with the cultists, take your pick from the Bestiary.
There is more information in the Week 18 Write-Up!
[OOC: There will be no subthreads in this post. Only new arrivals are allowed to make top tier comments!]
DATE: 3/30/2014 (Week 18, Day 1)
RATING: PG-13 (Please let the mods know if a thread requires a higher rating!)
SUMMARY: Tracks or no tracks, COMPASS is going to bring in the new test subjects.
This time there is no familiar train whistle but rather the deep low echo of a ship's horn. To some it may hearken back to the days on the Charon, but regardless of any possible memories the noise stirs up, one thing is certain: trouble.
Shortly after the last, mournful sound echos across the night sky, a text blast from COMPASS will push out across all the pocket watches; new arrivals and those on the campus. It comes across as both text and audio.
- "Welcome to Zelien. You are now participants in an information gathering operation conducted by COMPASS, Inc.
"We regret to inform you that due to the misguided efforts of our current participants, we were unable to deliver you to the dry safety of the campus. We wish you luck on making it to the campus alive.
It would appear that despite the fact that the tracks are only halfway repaired, this has not stopped COMPASS from bringing in new arrivals. The ship's horn is a good clue about where these new arrivals may be located and as indicated by the text/audio blast, it is no where safe.
The ship's horn was heard not only by the residents on campus but also by the cultists crawling through the thick jungle overgrowth. The new arrivals face not only heavy rain, humid temperatures and dense vegetation spread out across the city, they will also be facing angry groups of cultists, eager to get to potential sacrificial victims before anyone can get back to the safety of the campus.
[OOC: Some quick FAQs
The cultists are human and they will be attacking with machetes, Tommy guns, 1920s circa hand guns, sheer numbers and the support of the "Great Old Ones."
What this means is that reasonably speaking PCs have can get in two to three kill shots through technology, special abilities, superpowers and then the "Great Old One" will step in to level the playing field. The "Great Old One" does NOT give the cultists any sort of attack advantage but they will 'neutralize' the PCs special attacks by rendering it ineffective against the cultists.
A special attack is anything unique to your character above baseline 1920s human.
The PCs can still engage in hand to hand, machete to machete or 1920s gun fire with the cultists but the cultists will have the advantages of numbers and no fear of dying.
There was a question about more passive special abilities such as shape-shifting, psychic illusion or defensive powers. As a rule these will work up to 10 minutes (long enough to get your character in trouble!) and then their effectiveness will be neutralized by the Great Old One.
To clarify this DOES NOT mean the ability (whether attacks or defensive) is taken away from your character, only that they cease to have an effect on the cultists.
There is more information in the Week 18 Write-Up!
[OOC: There will be no subthreads in this post. Only new arrivals are allowed to make top tier comments!]
Chizuru Yukimura | Hakuouki | OTA
What--...?!
[She doesn't have time to panic. She checks her hip and draws her sword, frightened but unwilling to simply lay down and die. She has to know if the people she left behind are still here, and so while it might not be the smartest move, she leaves the docks and heads into the vegetation. She calls back over her shoulder to anyone else who might be nearby,]
Come on! There might be safety in numbers!
[...but whether they follow her or not, she's going.]
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So though the ship's horn isn't the sound he's expecting, he's still ready, and as soon as he hears it, he's on his way to the docks - with a bit more urgency than his usual ventures to the train platform, because it doesn't take long for the pieces to click together in his mind into an alarming picture, a picture of it can't be safe out there -
The first cultists are on him almost the moment he sets foot off of campus, but his sword is faster than they are, and he doesn't even stop moving to cut them down. They've given him ample reason to show no mercy from almost the time he first arrived, when it was still just him and Hijikata and -
He knows that voice.]
Yukimura?
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Only to realize he has no idea where all these new arrivals even are, but after a few seconds of seeing some other people heading determinedly in a specific direction, he follows suit.
And when he reaches the first grouping of cultists, he almost regrets not having Shinpachi at his back, but he can't dwell on it, only cut them down as swiftly as he can, and then dodge the bullets when he isn't fast enough. This happens a couple of times, but Sano doesn't stick around longer than necessary. He just continues in the same direction.
But then a familiar voice reaches him - barely, with the rain pelting against the overgrowth - and he slows down, looking around desperately for the owner of that voice. And soon after he sees her, running in his direction.]
Chizuru!
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It's that worry that makes Minako chase the girl to the vegetation in the distance, although she stops when she sees cultists coming out of there and heading into Chizuru's direction. She doesn't know what they are, but they look fairly obviously hostile, so a quick decision is made-- ]
Crescent Beam! [ A beam of light shoots over Chizuru's shoulder, hitting one of the cultists straight in the face to get him out of Chizuru's way. Yes, about that girl suddenly behind you.... It's a good thing she already transformed pretty much the moment she arrived here so she was prepared to help out like this. ]
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( cress -- ota! )
the next — rain and humidity and a different sort of darkness.
cress blinks, and she realizes she is wet. soaked to the bone, every inch of her skin and too-small dress, head heavy with the dripping mess of blond hair pooling around her ankles. standing, too, bare feet curling into cold pavement when she'd expected to still be curled up, clutching thorne's unconscious body, but instead in her hands, she finds the remnants of what had once been a hard drive. little cress, she thinks absently, but any sorrow she might have felt for the lost AI program is muted by the overwhelming sensation of —
of everything.
past the rain, she can see it — green and jungle and earth and ]
—Earth. [ she was on earth. she was alive. and she was on earth. finally. finally. even in the darkness, even in the cold rain, it was beautiful. beautiful and big and—
big. way too big. noises and chaos and — wait, what's happening? was that gunfire? where—
she means to reach out to the person nearest her. to call out and question and, please — where are we? have you seen a blond man with a devastating smile?, but instead she wobbles, as if her legs were unused to the ground itself, and she falls.
welp. she'd called herself a damsel in distress before, hadn't she? now there's definitely no argument there. ]
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he's slipping through the groups of people, seeing if there are any familiar faces. a lost boy, anything. instead, he catches a glimpse of someone falling and his reflexes take over, reaching out to hold her steady. ]
-- Easy there. [ said with a light, breathy laugh. ] I'd ask if you're all right, but I have a feeling I know the answer.
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Even if he isn't up to par as far as combat or power goes, he's managed movement and balance well enough - even running. There's a handgun he's tucked into a belt, that he can fire fairly well, even if he ends up possibly hitting himself in the face with the recoil on occasion. But it's a managable enough expense. He doesn't stick with the bulk of the group, though - not when they run into the fight and the mob of cultists. Jarvis knows he won't last long in that, regardless of how great or little he has an appreciation of his mortality now. It's just stupid.
Instead, he's slipping into the alley ways and narrow corridors between buildings off to the side of the battle. The girl looking cold, confused and panicked is spotted through one of the alleyways, and from a quick once over, she seems unarmed and far too disoriented to really defend herself. There are others more ready to that he's putting at lower priority, but as the girl begins to topple over, Jarvis makes his way forward. Yeah, he's totally been there - the whole suddenly face planting on the ground thing isn't fun. Hooking his forearms under her arms to pull her back upright, Jarvis is tugging her gently back, trying to get urge her back into the safety alley he'd left a second ago. ]
Please remain calm, ma'am. [ The most chill voice ever, if not a little dry ] I will happily explain the situation, once we've escaped the imminent threat of fatality.
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runs at
Nothing short of a crisis was going to stop him in finding his way there, or so he thought, but even he can't help the instinct to stop and reach out towards her, bracing his hand on her waist and steadying the blunt edge of his hook against her back. He's still a gentleman, after all. Just a split second longer and they'd both be on the ground. ]
Be careful there, lass. The last thing you need is an injury before actual danger gets here.
flies towards!!
cries deeply at life decisions
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Sapphire | Open!
Glancing back at the open water, she feels a moment of panic, that distinct feeling of being trapped, chased, hunted that she too recently escaped. This whole place brings back little inklings of experiences she's only just left behind her. All composure and grace, though, she focuses for a moment.
Steel and Ruby. They'd all worked together on this one, hadn't they? They'd solved it. And now... just another assignment, perhaps? Another puzzle to solve? A mystery, if nothing else. And there have been mysteries indeed throughout her existence, throughout her own incarnation. But there's always been one constant.
She focuses her mind for a moment, taking a calming breath to stave off any residual fear, and reaches out telepathically, eyes staring off seemingly to nowhere.
Steel?
Response or no, she soon refocuses her gaze on someone nearby, and walks over with grace, poise, and an almost soothing demeanor.]
Pardon my interruption, but could you tell me where or when we are?
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And then he heard Sapphire's telepathic call. And then Steel did a complete turnabout in his mental state: he needed to get to where the new arrivals were and he needed to get to there now.
I can hear you, Sapphire. Where are you?
Because bruised and battered or not, Steel is on his way. Sapphire was here and he was going to find her.]
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Dean Winchester | OTA
"Jesus," After letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding Dean looks around, still white knuckling the long knife he'd picked off of some mook in Purgatory. It's bone and wood, tied together tight with trimming from debris. So far it's been a better friend to him than what he took in there, and he wasn't letting it go yet.
He's not sure what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. This wasn't like anywhere he remembered. Not in the US. He'd been a few places, he knew how to read wildlife and foliage and nothing was standing out. He can feel the cool breath of water before he ever hears the sound of a ship. Now he's sure he's not where he was supposed to come out. He yanks up his sleeve, the familiar glow of Benny long gone.
"You stupid sonuvabitch..." Maybe he's not as scared as he should be, but he's used to being let down, and even more familiar with things not going as planned. He just hopes that wherever the guy is he's somewhere a lot better than where they just left.
That's when the audio message plays out and Dean almost swings at nothingness before searching for the source. It doesn't take him long. The last thing he'd ever do is carry a pocket watch. He's not a douche.
At least it's raining, that goes a long way to help wash off the dirt that's caked on his clothes and face. It doesn't do much, but it smears into his skin and drains down his face in seeping dirty gray lines. There's no telling where to go and since behind him is the water, he can only guess the jungle's the only way to civilization. Hopefully when he got there his questions about whatever Compass, Inc. was and the change in environment would be answered. No way he was gonna stand around like a jackass waiting for someone to show up and lead the way. That wasn't his style.
Dean uses the knife like a machete to cut through the jungle. It doesn't dull it at all, one of the perks of the bone coming from something that wasn't human. He doesn't call out because he doesn't trust anyone here to lend an honest hand. That, and where he's from and how he spent the last year he's expecting a lot more hostility than handshakes.
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COMPASS didn't work that way.
And now, not only had the ruined train tracks made life difficult in Zelien, but it meant that the new arrivals had the wonderful opportunity to deal with a whole new fresh hell.
Her long, uncomfortable months on the Charon had never really left her. Maybe if she'd had time to go home like some of the other. But Fatima was never exactly like others...
Case in point, most people, when they smelled smoke, ran in the opposite direction. Merali girls, however, immediately sought out the fire. Both metaphorically speaking and literally from time to time. And Fatima knew, the second she heard the announcement, that she was going to go out and fetch the new arrivals. Of course she was. It was in her blood. It was what she did.
She decided to take an indirect route, however. Her most recent encounter with the cultists had left a bitter taste in her mouth. And anyway, she was supposed to like plants. That was in her blood too.
Only not so much. She was a city girl, through and through. The raised roots and vines were really just a nuisance. And she was starting to second-guess her decision when she heard someone...or something...coming through the foliage.
Hopefully, someone. But all the same, she took a stake out of her bag.
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Please forgive the late orz
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Mikael | Open!
[The fog horn interrupts his dream, and his eyes snap open to find himself not laying on the grass where he had been, but standing upright on some sort of docking area. It takes a few minutes to snap out of his initial thinking— (that damn dream again, why...but this?)— but once he does, it's rather calmly, considering the situation.
He's not frowning so much as squinting in focus as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the strange objects that caused a weight he didn't recall. The watch gets an extra long stare before he shoves it right back into his pocket, the key only getting a brief glance before receiving the same treatment.
Already, he can see cultists approaching. Strangers with weapons. That was enough. The leaf between his lips shifts over to one side so he can speak.]
Regret? That horn is calling anything for miles.
[Just a snide observation to both himself and those around him before he's reaching for his sword, face twisting into something more eager as he steps forward. Fighting? Fighting, he can do. He'll worry about everything else later, dream or not.]
Option 2 (Campus)
[After some time, he makes it to the Campus. But it's not without injury. Wounds from the machetes and guns have him bloody enough to be worrying, but he doesn't seem to be worrying about wiping his face clean just yet. Not until he's actually in his version of safety. There are a couple of bullets lodged in his left arm that he's holding a little limply at his side, but none of this holds him back from moving forward.
He's not in a talkative mood at this point, however, so he has no problem walking straight forward in his path and bumping shoulders with whoever happens to be in the way, not even muttering an apology.]
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so, as soon as someone crosses the threshold looking even remotely injured, she steps up with her medical tricorder unfolded and raised to scan. her voice is gentle, but firm and authoritative. ] Hold on. I'm a doctor. I need to scan your injuries.
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one, yo
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option 2
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option 2!
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Daenerys Targaryen | Open
Then the announcement comes from a curious thing she doesn't even remember picking up. But it was in her hand all the same. She looks at the piece numbly without really seeing it. Hearing it without really realizing it. It echoes in the back of her mind as she looks up around her at the docks. Participants in an information gathering process... She vaguely understands that she's been captured. But by who? She remembers gaining three ships and that's all she remembers.
None of it matters, though. All those thoughts are at the back of her mind. There's only one thing in her mind as her eyes rake over the terrain. ]
Viserion! Rhaegal! Drogon! [ She calls out, her voice hoarse and rough as she screams their names.
They did not take her dragons from her. They couldn't take her dragons from her. Where were her dragons?
Three forms fly through the ream, an answering screech calling out into the world as the dragons fly to her. She catches Drogon in her arms, Rhaegal and Viserion clinging to her clothes. She feels their claws scrape her skin as they all gather to her and scramble to stay on her but she hardly even notices. They're too large for this anymore, and they rarely do it often, but they know her own worries and she needs them not.
Comforted by their presence, Dany pulls out her dagger and her dragons pull of her some, giving her space to move about. She's no warrior, but if she has to fight she will fight. No one takes her quietly. ] Jorah! Ko Aggo! Ko Jhogo! Ko Rakharo! [ She yelled the names of her bloodriders. ]
You. [ She turns to the nearest person, friend or foe, while Drogon hisses her frustration. ] Answer me quick and I will spare your life, who are you and what is happening?
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So when she touches down a bit off and takes off running the rest of the way, she barely has time to catch her breath before she hears Daenerys address her.
The young woman straightens, hands clutching at the bamboo wand in her possession.] My lady, I fret I do not have much time to answer questions before the enemy will be upon us. I am tasked simply with getting you safely onto the campus and away from them.
[However, she does take the time to bow, low and polite. She figures she has a couple of minutes at least] My name is Kaguya, my lady. Please allow me to assist you.
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Silver | Open
Of course he highly doubts he'll ever see them again, what with the Transients being themselves and all and that brings about a moment of sadness that makes him glance down at the box in his hands. Fat lot of good it did him, didn't it?
Fingers running across the edge of the box he takes in his surroundings, tilts his head to the side. He hadn't been given information about arriving here, somethings wrong. The Transients perhaps? Had to be. And with Sapphire and Steel well...
Well he'd just have to do this himself, wouldn't he?
Straightening his shoulders and tugging at his tie once he walks over to someone, eyes straying to whatever particularly shiny thing they have on them at the time even as he holds the box close. There's danger out there as well but there's no reason to panic, he's survived worse, now is no different.]
Excuse me for just a moment, do you mind answering a couple questions?
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Thankfully the myriad bruises that mar his chest are covered by his suit. But there's no hiding his black eye which, though it is recovering wonderfully, is still obvious as hell. And he just knows Silver will point it out, possibly make fun of it, and definitely chide him on his recklessness (though really, it wasn't like any of the other options were better.)
Still, he was glad Silver was here...though he wouldn't admit it to the Technician.]
Silver, [Steel remarked, with a nod of his head.] Welcome to Zelien.
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d'Artagnan | Open!
[ D'Artagnan has yet to notice the pocketwatch that he's been given. That, along with whatever useful or helpful information it might contain, will have to be found later. He hears the blaring of a ship's horn and it jolts him, makes him turn in disbelief and stare up at the boat. At least he thinks it's a boat. It's like no ship he's ever seen before, and aside from that, wasn't he just on a horse? He's sure he was on a horse, and he was looking at Porthos.
He wheels around, eyes wide with alarm. He doesn't see Porthos, or Aramis or Athos or any sign of the Court of Miracles. ]
What is this? You!
[ He reacts on instinct, turning and drawing his sword upon the first person in his sight. ]
Who are you, where have you taken me?! Explain this, or I swear I'll kill you where you stand!
Open to all!
[ Later, with the shock wearing off (and the need to attack his fellow captives having been put to bed, for the moment), d'Artagnan studies the pocketwatch in his hand. It's so small and delicate, and he can't understand how the message he's looking at has squeezed itself onto something no bigger than a Nuremburg egg.
Still, it's clear enough. 'We wish you luck on making it to campus alive'. It's not exactly a ringing endorsement for the safety of this place.
Not that it looks very inviting, anyway. It mostly looks like a jungle, which is hardly an ideal place to be fighting. There's far too many opportunities for ambush.
But needs must. With a sigh, he tucks the watch away inside his belt, switches his sword back to his right hand, and glances at the people closest to him. ]
Stay behind me. We should try to move in groups. How many of you are armed? We'll need to escort the rest, and keep your eyes open. We could be facing anything out there.
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Um. ]
If this is about the pie, you can have it...
[ Seriously, dude, it's hella good, but he's not that attached to it. ]
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Damon Baird | Open!
All the more reason to scowl, which he does, even as he glances over and around him as if to try and find the bot. He had gotten the message like everyone else, and now he wants to know if Troy made it with him, at least he'd know if the mission could go on back home.
When he sees said bot shimmer out of being invisible he sighs, reaching out to pat the white bots side as it hovers near him.]
Alright little guy, we'll try and keep you dry. Which I guess means getting out of here. [With a couple of answering beeps the bot disappears again and Baird hefts his Lancer after stashing away the key and pocket watch in a pouch.
Which he then raises his voice to be heard.]
Anyone know which way we're supposed to go?
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In that respect at least, he's perfectly able to help answer the man.]
I know the way back, but I'm afraid it's not going to be easy by any means. There's blighted cultists trying to get at us the whole way.
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Garrett | Thief | OTA (prose or brackets both welcome!)
When the gunshots started Garrett knew it was time to get out of here and find shelter, any kind of shelter. His first instinct was to head into the shadows so that was exactly what he did. There was a crowd gathered here on these docks and it made him feel uncomfortable to be out in the open like this. He weaved slowly and carefully through the people without touching anyone, doing his best not to alert anyone to his presence.
Though if he happened to pick a pocket or two along the way, well, it couldn't be helped. That was also instinct.
Re: Garrett | Thief | OTA (prose or brackets both welcome!)
"Easy to reach, safety is not." He'll get him there though.
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Charming/David Nolan | Open!
Not that David's incredibly new to popping into a new world every now and again, but not in the middle of lunch with his wife, and typically he's familiar enough with the new world to be able to identify it. While the jungle does harken to Neverland pretty effectively (he just got done with that place, come on), the massive cargo ship off to the side of the dock doesn't. But he doesn't exactly have a lot of time to think about it, considering the aforementioned incoming mob of Jazz Age cultists flailing towards him and the handful of other seriously confused looking people around him. The hand not occupied with the plate of pie is going for the seriously renaissancey looking sword at his hip, while his head whips around the immediate area - more concerned with searching for a few people than the fight on it's way. ]
Mary Margaret? Neal! [ They'd both been right there. There's no way he ended up here and they didn't get through - and there's absolutely no way he's about to go off on his own without finding his family first. ] Snow!
[ Aaand then there's a cultist swinging a club at his head, and David's snapping around to block with his sword, looking more irritated than worried about this whole thing. Plate still in hand. ] Really? You couldn't even let me finish the pie?
[ so over this tbqh ]
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But before that time Iron Man had free reign over the skies and could pelt the cultists all he liked. Which he did.
Spotting a man defending himself with naught but a sword, Iron Man swooped down to blast the cultist in the back.]
There's never enough time around here for pie. [He called out as he passed, the suit's comm projecting his voice to be heard easily over the den of battle. He would be back around for another attack shortly, in the meantime he blasted a few more cultists along the way as he strafed in the ground before making a U-turn and heading back towards the swordsman.]
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you take your word play and you leave
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minako aino | sailor moon | ota
[ One moment she's at home. The next? She's standing on some sort of dock looking out at-- what, trees? Some sort of near rain forest? And all she knows is that it's so humid and the rain is absolutely pouring and it's not like any place she's seen before. And Minako has seen a lot of places, all the way up to different planets.
But the moment something hums (she quickly finds out it's the pocket watch) and she sees the message, Minako doesn't have a single doubt about what's going on here. This has got to be some new sort of enemy. Of course, would it really be quiet just since Usagi did something about Chaos? The light of the silver crystal would probably forever draw in enemies one way or another - and the enemy always sure did love attacking random civilians over it, she notices once more as she stares at the other people standing on the docks.
Well, fine. If staying alive is what they have to do, then that's that. It's not like Minako knows what exactly is waiting for them threat-wise, but she's not taking any risks here. She does bother to walk away from the main group so it'd be hard to just randomly spot her transforming in the middle of the rain, but if you happen to sneak up or are close enough-- ]
Venus Crystal Power! [ You can notice the blonde sticking her hand up in the air as she says that, a gold light surrounding her. ] Make Up..!
[ And when the light has vanished, her relatively normal clothes have been replaced with a different outfit. ]
option 2.
[ Minako decided for herself that she's going to make sure to keep others out of trouble, so she can't leave the docking area behind until absolutely everyone is gone there. Except that means she's still lingering there by the time the cultists attack as well. Your character might find themselves faced with one with a gun, and just as the cultist is about to shoot they might hear something else from behind them: ]
Get down! Venus Love And Beauty Shock..!
[ They better listen, because otherwise a moment a blast of golden energy travels right past said character's head instead of well over it to hit the cultist head on, blasting the cultist way back into a tree. ]
option 1
His observations are quickly interrupted by someone calling out a bunch of words that make absolutely no sense together. Venus Crystal what...? What's that even supposed to mean?
Gareki glances down around sourly before climbing out of his bush, wondering if it's another population-wide psychotic episode again. Thankfully, he brought his hammer with him for self-defense, refusing to take any chances with the cultists wandering around. ]
Who's ov-?
[ He pauses as he spots a girl about his age in some really crazy outfit. This should be normal to him by now, but someone really ought to tell all these crazy costume-wearing people how stupid they look. ]
You look stupid in that tiara.
[ And that someone is going to be him. ]
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option 2
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option 2!
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option 2
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two.
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Option 2.
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YANCY BECKET; PACIFIC RIM; OTA
Listen to me - you have to listen to me. Raleigh -
He groans. For a brief moment, he wanders with a slow and blind fervor, like an untamed fire taking swift, unpredictable, marauding paths, only to stop short and lean against a nearby tree. There are people all around him, a huge crowd, but their faces mean nothing to him. None of this is familiar, he realizes. Where was his Jaeger? Where was his brother? Where was the monstrous reckoning they had been ordered to quell off the coast? Yancy turns his head back, over his shoulder, and is greeted with nothing but the quiet black depths of a foreign shoreline. He feels a sudden, unexpected nauseating anxiety, a sensation of illness that washes over him in uncomfortable, acidic bursts. Raleigh, Raleigh, Raleigh keeps thrumming in the back of his heart, behind his ribs, burning a hole in his soul.
…and without another moment’s pause, Yancy Becket vomits violently onto the ground in front of him.]
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reflex has her feeling disgust, but her empathy soon takes over when she sees how — completely out of sorts he looks. despite feeling a bit queasy herself — the sights, the smell; she had only ever thrown up once in her life, and it had been so long ago that she hadn't thought the memory would have been quite so vivid — she inches just a little bit closer, mindful of where she places her bare feet. ]
...hey. Hi. Are you okay? [ a dumb question, she realizes as soon as she'd said it. ] Um... at least it's raining, right? [ a weak laugh. ]
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One ninja hero coming right up
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athos; the musketeers; ota
[ He becomes aware of two things, the rain that beats heavily on his face, and the uncomfortable muggy sensation that rests on the air. His ears ring from the sound of a horn and he curses, taking a step forward. There is too much noise and he tastes salt on his tongue and his hand twitches torwards the hilt of his sword once he sees the great hulk of a ship. This is not the Court of Miracles, nor any part of Paris he has ever seen. It sets about a wild panic within his veins, makes him feel as though he is adrift. For a moment he believes he has merely succumb to some sort of fever, or that the wine has gone to his head and he is dreaming something treacherous. He thinks all of these things but it feels as real as anything.
There is no time to spare however, for a figure in a cloak moves forward out of the darkness with a club in one hand. The sound of metal rings as Athos brings his sword up, a frown on his face and a twist to his mouth.
With a very dry tone to his voice. ] Fanatics. [ His sword twists in his grip, ready for the fight. ] Very well. Let's get this over with.
[ The battle was one that he doesn't exactly wish to repeat. Every inch of him is sore, his mind is a whirlwind of information he finds too difficult to process. It would be worse, he tells himself, were d'Artagnan not with him. He had found him quickly upon arrival and together they had done what they always did best. They fought. He feels a little less like he is losing his mind with the other man there.
Of course, staring into the main hall of a building such as this, he seems to be reconsidering his own sanity. What manner of hell is this? Where exactly has he been brought? ]
campus
This thing is incredible.
[ The pocketwatch, clearly, judging by how he's holding it up by its train. ]
Have you seen it? It's not just portable timekeeping, it's so much more. I have no idea how to use it.
[ He glances up, then, noticing his friend's blank stare. Eyeing him, d'Artagnan takes a step closer. ]
Athos? Are you listening to me?
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campus
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docks
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campus.
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Captain Hook/Killian Jones | OTA
He's at a dock-- he knows them incredibly well, but that's definitely not his ship. His working hand never leaves the hilt of his sword as he looks around, trying to piece it all together but failing. This place fills him with a sense of dread, much like Neverland, and the feel of thick jungle is all too familiar now. ]
This is new. Been doing some renovating, have you? You're losing your creative touch.
[ He says, a sentiment directed at Peter Pan, but said to no one in particular. As he begins walking, however, and he receives the message on his pocketwatch (wait, when did he get this?), he comes to a stop and looks entirely unamused. ]
Thank you for the lovely welcome, but I'm afraid I can't stay too long.
[ Still, he's not one to take a warning lightly, and his walking pace increases. He has to find this campus soon, even if it feels too much like a sheep herding. He's quickly making his way in whatever direction his instinct fancies best. He may not know where he's going, but it's a better option than letting whatever danger was coming find him at the docks. All the while, he's looking for any sign of Emma or her family in the crowd. Shit, at this point, even Gold would be a welcome sight. ]
Re: Captain Hook/Killian Jones | OTA
Now that she's here, her eyes fall on the pirate a few feet away, already rushing off in the direction of the jungle.] Oh, hey! Wait!
[She adjusts her bracelet quickly, her tail shifting into legs in a colorful burst of magic before she gets to her feet, hurrying to catch up to the man before he steps into the unknown.] It's not safe, there are people hiding everywhere wearing cloaks and armed with weapons.
[Ariel was able to sneak out, and she's confident in her own ability to get back safely - but she knew what was waiting for her, and he doesn't.] They have guns; they're very dangerous.
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Re: Captain Hook/Killian Jones | OTA
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all the cool kids hang at the campus
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no why
:'333 because i need it
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ahahahahahaha cry
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It burns in his lungs and in his throat. His eyes feel heavy, sticky, as if after a long sleep. The first thing that registers to his slowly awakening mind is the smell of sea. Eventually the sound of lapping waves joins the smell, and the pounding in his head lessens enough for him to push himself into a sitting position and blink at his surroundings.
Everything is fuzzy, like a half-remembered dream. He can feel the dock beneath his fingers, but there is a thick layer of wrong about all of his senses. Nothing is quite right. His skin is too tight around his flesh and bones, squeezing him in. And yet he's light-headed, disconnected from the sensations. Wrong. It... doesn't make any sense, and he doesn't understand.
How did he get here? Something must have happened, something... He tries to remember, to reach back and remember how it can be that he wakes up on an unfamiliar dock. A glance at this own body reveals nothing that immediately makes sense. He's wearing a suit and tie, the whole ensemble threatening to fall apart, ruined by water, faded blood and the same black goo he just coughed up.
And in his mind there's nothing. A void; cold and empty darkness. Where he knows memories should surface, there is simply the distinct impression of water closing above his head. It's all there is. He can't recall a... a ship wreck or even a journey by sea to account for the booming horn, he can't recall... anything, really. He can't remember what he did yesterday. The day before. How he could possibly have ended up inside or close to water.
Or who he is, for that matter.
A tight knot of fear rises in him. He scrambles, tries to sit up with shaking limbs that won't support him, as if the strength has been sucked from them. His eyes are wide, but he doesn't panic yet. He doesn't know who he is, and the presence of others around him confuses him more than it proves a comfort, the jungle looms and nothing makes sense. His lungs still burn as he takes a shuddering gasp. It feels like a situation in which a full-blown panic attack would be called for, but nothing comes. He merely gulps in a few breaths, and while he's scared, he is surprised to discover a certain... calm within him. At least whoever he is, he can probably deem himself fairly level-headed. But no matter how many deep breaths he takes, he can't recall anything. No face comes to mind, his own or other familiar ones, no names, nothing. Something flutters in his chest, like a flickering light trying to grow or call out, but he doesn't know what to make of that.
He hasn't always been here, the message received makes that clear. It appears along with the others on the docks he was brought here, and that doesn't indicate anything good. Aid is required. He needs someone to explain this to him, he needs to know something, anything, to fill the dark abyss in his head where so much information should be readily available.
He also needs new clothes, and likely food and shelter, though hunger is the least of his worries at the moment.
It takes him a moment to find his voice, to call out to the nearest person. His voice is roughened, but he's not sure if it's the salt-water or himself that makes it so. What in the world is going on?]
Can you... What happened, where are we?
[He's unarmed and weakened by whatever happened, reluctant to venture out into the jungle on legs that feel in a strange place between wobbly and steady. Defenseless, he doesn't know what awaits him - or how to make it through.
The downsides of not remember you're an angel of the Lord and can pull a blade out of thin air to slice through the jungle. Too bad he hasn't the faintest.]
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It's not as if he has the patience to be sorting through the newest arrivals in some ordered fashion. The last time had been a mess, the wreckage of the train sprawled out and injured bodies everywhere. It had gotten him nowhere at all, no one he knew to show for it. He's been here months and had been given nothing with each onslaught of people the weeks brought. It's turned him slightly bitter; even if he has Dean, would he ever see the others at camp again? Risa, Chuck--
He doesn't want to go, but he... feels compelled to cross campus and make his way toward the docks anyhow.
Which isn't as easy as it sounds, fighting his way through the jungle and tripping over things the rain makes it difficult to make out when he's not paying attention. He's breathing hard by the time he's made it, and he drags an arm across his face, hand up and through his hair to push the dark mess back so he can take a look around. As expected, there are others there. Faces he doesn't recognize, people he hardly gives a second thought to as he sticks to the side and weaves his way around. In fact, he almost walks right by the angel until that familiar voice is striking him straight through to his chest.
What the hell? He hadn't seen or heard anything from the other him in weeks, and Castiel had only assumed he'd ditched Zelien or ran off somewhere and died. Part of him had been concerned, but mostly, he'd just been annoyed. There had been things he'd wanted from him, things he'd asked for and that made perfect sense to accomplish. Yet, he'd gotten nothing, and it wasn't as if he was the angel's keeper either. Still--
He takes a step back and turns around, voice equally rough as he speaks up. Loud enough to be heard in the rain, quiet enough to be private. ]
Where have you been? [ So much for answering the questions. ]
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Back at Campus
Please forgive the late orz
It's okay!
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elsa ( open to all )!
the queen immediately goes stiff, only her eyes moving as her chest rapidly begins to expand; these people weren't her guests, this, this forest— ]
What— Anna? Guards— [ she turns left and right, anxiety and nervousness reaching higher levels much too quickly for the like of safety— if she was already pale naturally, all color left her face, leaving but small hints of soft make up and blush. fingers rub and fidget together as she tries to find an explanation, hands defensively being pulled to her chest, and features pulling deeper into fear. we wish you luck on making it to campus alive was the icing to her cake cake, the cherry on top of her ice cream, the we're getting married to her coronation.
was it a dream? magic? she didn't know— the temperature around the circumference of where the young woman stands, a good few feet, begins to drop briskly, and the rain that once brushed against her skin manages no more to touch her as water, falling to the ground below her feet as tiny drops of ice.
she notices the solid rain softly pelting her pinned hair, her crown— and it was another reason for panic to set in even further. elsa steps away from the crowd, front facing them in growing uneasiness— up ahead, in the jungle some shots fire west; to her, the sound of canons ( or something along those lines ) that make her stomach knot and pull downwards in the coldest feeling she's ever been able to feel. she was breathing too fast, heart pounding too hard . . . she does the first thing her mind tells her to do when the second round sounds, when the forming puddles at her feet begin to frost: run. she doesn't know where to, but she does know that for more than one reason, she needs to leave, heading in the opposite direction, but still, into the jungle. there was no where else to go. she gathers folds of the fabric of her dress in both hands and runs, cape flowing behind her as she disappears into the humid foliage— staying there would surely mean bad news, or worse—
a small team of cultists, two so far, begin circling her from the camouflage the trees and vines offer, whisking away from one shadow to the next— but her legs, thin and not-so-very made for running long distances in short times, in the rocky terrine of a jungle no less— she gets to a point where she backs into the trunk of a thick, towering tree, cornered, breathing heaving and hands, legs trembling. she looks behind her briefly, desperately searches for a path that didn't show there was someone there, someone coming— she knew, she saw— ]
Anna— [ that wasn't anna— she wished it were, though, and if it were a guard, they'd call to her too. she steps back further, hands out in desperate gesture as the figures only draw closer. ]
Stay— Stay away from me, please—
[ it's cold in this particular spot, cold enough to see one's breath— and for elsa, right behind her, ice begins to creep up the tree's trunk, spread to its roots. she doesn't know where to look, whether it's at what's ahead or the ice she swears to control ( but she couldn't think solely on concealing when she was being preyed on— her emotions didn't work that way ), and where to run— ]
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Garrett immediately thought to himself that he should leave. This wasn't his fight and he wasn't interested in playing hero.
However, the plea for help resonated with a recent memory and the image of another young girl flashed through his mind's eye, her scared voice calling out his name in her time of need. Garrett had failed to save Erin but the young woman beneath him about to be assaulted by these fanatical cultists (robes, people in robes had caused the mess that took Erin's life...) could be rescued. His instinct to turn around and mind his own business was miraculously overridden by the fear and panic in the girl's voice, and Garrett crept closer to the scene.
Once he was in position, the master thief stopped and waited for the cultists to draw near his perch on the branch above. When they reached him, Garrett leapt from his position and dropped onto the closest robed figure with startling precision. While not fatal, the blow he landed to the back of the man's head on his way down easily knocked the cultist unconscious and without a second's hesitation Garrett moved onto the next with his blackjack raised. The weapon wasn't meant to be lethal and that was the way Garrett preferred it, though he knew the feeling wasn't mutual when it came to those with whom he fought. Quickly sidestepping out of the way of a club being swung at him, Garrett maneuvered himself into position to preform another knockout with quick, fluid precision and ended the battle almost as quickly as it had begun.
That taken care of, Garrett stepped back from the bodies and looked up at the cowering girl. He moved slowly as he reached up to remove the mask from his lower face, the blackjack already tucked securely out of sight, and he held out a placating hand to her.]
It's all right. [His voice was low, a little rough around the edges, and deep but his tone was carefully modulated to exude peace and calm. Not quite comforting but close enough to reassuring.]
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Re: elsa ( open to all )!
Re: elsa ( open to all )!
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I can't tl;dr like you guys I'm sorry
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Johannes Cabal | OTA
The penny drops. Ah. He is clearly no longer outside the village. He stands stock-still, taking in his surroundings from the corners of his eyes. A dock, and in front of him a tangle of overgrowth. There are other people around him, a fact that is no relief.
At least, he thinks bitterly, it is not a tea garden.
The voice that comes from the watch gives him a start and sends the crow rocketing into the sky with a kronk of panic. Cabal glowers at the damnable device, too distracted by the message and all its implications to wonder at the text that appears on its face.
"If that is how things are going to be..." He raises his voice, calling out to whoever will listen. 'Campus', indeed. "All right, which of you is the verdammt fool that brought me here? More importantly, where is the exit? Quickly now, my patience wears thin."
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If you stand with the others, I'll bite you to death. [It was hard enough to see, what with so many passengers milling about. It's times like this that Hibari becomes... "problematic", looking for trouble, and easily finding it. This time, however—and perhaps to Johannes' benefit—it's cultist blood the prefect's calling for.]
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Re: Johannes Cabal | OTA
SERPENTINE! SERPENTINE!
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Leonie Barrow | open!
Except, in what seemed like the next moment, most of that was gone.
The acrid notes of smoke still clung to person like a second skin, but was tempered by the downpour of rain, weighing down her Victorian dress and causing her unruly blonde hair to cling to her cheeks. Her fingers curled tightly about the metal surface that was trapped in her right hand, brow pinching in confusion. A memento of the Princess Hortense? It hardly seemed possible, as the heated surface didn't sear her skin. Honeyed eyes fluttering open, she brought it up for inspection.
A pocket watch.
Leonie Barrow had never owned a pocket watch, but that was hardly of consequence now. What mattered were the unfamiliar faces gathered as her newest possession sung out its warning. They were strangers in even stranger clothing, but with her pulse thundering in her ears and determination set upon her features, she reached out to clasp the shoulder of one of the strangers from behind with her free hand.
"We shouldn't separate. Now then -- campus, is it?"
Leonie hadn't died on the airship, and refused to fall so easily now.