OPEN PLOT LOG ★ THE CULT [LEFT BEHIND]

[hellshaped]

[closed] INTO THE WOODS. At Ramir's request, Hellboy has accompanied her into the jungle, looking for clues as to this rising cult of Ryba. It's dangerous stuff, cults, particularly when those cults have a penchant for sacrificial mutilation: missing villagers can only spell disaster for the recruits themselves down the line, so it's best to nip this in the bud as quickly as possible. Hellboy is worried about the missing half of their team, but until the storm dies down, there seems to be no better way to pass the time than walking around in creepy jungles looking for possible cannibals. THE RESCUE. After Hellboy's warning and the necessary preparations, it's time to rescue King and Ramir -- and as many captured Nalawi as you can. The camp is by one of the largest estuaries on Pu'ulai, camouflaged by native flora and hidden in the shadow of the volcano Nalalona. The cultists have removed King and Ramir's magitek jewellery, but the tracking beacons are still active, making it easier to find them than without. The well-hidden camp is creepy, filled with ramshackle tents and poorly-made effigies. There's a pool in the middle of it all, filled with brackish, murky water. Ramir, King, and a small number of terrified-looking Nalawi are all bound, kept on the far side of the camp. The cultists are all dressed in hooded black robes, doe and stag alike. They are all without their Gifts, but that does nothing to temper their ferocity at intruders into their camp. Despite their diminutive size, they know the forests better than any ALASTAIR recruit, and are suited to blitz attacks on any would-be rescuers; they may pop out of the underbrush in small, seemingly endless waves. They also have sharp hooves and the stags' horns are dangerous, capable of goring anyone who doesn't get out of the way of a charge. The cult is surprisingly large, so it may take some time to defeat them all. Whether you want to spare them or destroy them is up to you -- but it's clear that the cult has no plans for mercy whatsoever. EXPLORATION. Now that the cultists have been dispatched (one way or another), the camp is free to explore. If any cultists are captured for questioning, they'll speak in gibberish and violently lash out at anyone who comes too close. The only thing they'll say that makes any sense is that Ryba is hungry -- Ryba the devouring one has eaten all the lesser gods in the world long ago, and now she needs more. All around the camp are various effigies (poorly crafted from dried kelp), shark's teeth, and other junk of the sea. There are tents scattered around that may be explored; they are filled with mundane paraphernalia such as books, combs, and other trinkets of sentimental value. If one didn't look at the horrors outside the tents, it might be confused for a refugee camp. The pool in the middle of the camp is filled with black water and disembodied Nalawi eyes, its concentrated magical energy more potent than even the water out in the ocean. There is a single doe in it, floating face down, the latest sacrifice before the cultists were interrupted; not dressed in their black robes, she is one of the missing villagers who was not so lucky. If she is turned over, it can be seen that her eyes have been gouged out. The surviving kidnapped villagers are badly shaken up but have no answers as to what happened other than they were captured by what they refer to as a "death cult." Apart from some slight hunger and dehydration, none of them are injured. They're just glad to be alive, and ask to be escorted back to the Pu'ulai temple.

Comments

[CLOSED] into the woods

[hellshaped]

[heavyhitter]

[ The more Ramir sees of this bullshit, stormy jungle, and the less she sees of any of her missing friends (read: total absence of), the more she regrets this whole venture. She'd wanted to be doing something, and searching cult-infested jungles seemed like a good something at the time, particularly with the backup of a giant, muscley red guy, but...

Man, this is getting old.

She sighs, dropping to a lean against a palm tree. She still doesn't have real shoes and the walk isn't really doing any favors for her still-injured feet, either. It's an unofficial break time. ]

Okay, confession: I can't even tell if we're walking in circles. I hate this fucking jungle.

[hellshaped]

[Hellboy typically has more stamina than average humans, but he finds himself getting fatigued alarmingly quickly now. It makes sense with everything going on, how his cuts don't close by themselves anymore and how he just got over what was apparently a cold, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

He stops when Ramir does, making a vague, frustrated noise in the back of his throat. He doesn't even have any more cigarettes left to take the edge off.]

You and me both. [He looks at the tree she's leaning against for a moment, then reaches over her head to scrape a gouge into the trunk with his stone hand. He opens his mouth to say something, probably a joke about the situation, when he notices exactly how she's leaning.] Are you doing okay?

ramir: some closed + an open

[heavyhitter]

closed to achilles

[ She's not bitter that Hellboy got to be the one to get away. She's totally not bitter about it. It makes sense, he's huge, he has the best chance at shaking them off after his charging escape out into the jungle. If she or King had tried it, they might've just ended up brought here again.

But god, if he doesn't grab other people and show up again here before they carve her eyes out and drown her, Ramir is going to be pissed. She's bound, obviously, or she'd have been out of here before she was ever even properly here, but there'd been enough attempted biting that someone had had to find a gag as well. Another thing to be pissed about. Ramir glowers at the whole lot of them, and if her currently diminished strength were anywhere near as potent as her glares, none of this would be an issue.

She has, though, been using her little tantrums and impotent lunges at their captors to work her way through the crowd of captured deer and toward the edge of the group, nearest to the cover of the jungle. Even now she's got a half-baked plan and an ever-burning hope.

She could really use a hand making anything of it, though. ]

closed to north

[ She’s free in the chaos of the arrival of the other recruits, but Ramir has a few things she’d like to get out of the way before she books it. Namely, fuck these robes-wearing deer.

It’s getting harder to tell which type of deer is which as the smart cultists fling off their robes to blend in with the terrified victims, but she’s pinned down one she’s sure is one of the cultists. He’d tried to throw off the robes and gotten them all tangled in his antlers in his panic, which is how she’s currently snared him. The little guy has a knife, but despite the desperate swings at her he’s not having much luck with the way she keeps behind him and uses his own antlers as leverage against him.

She looks grim. She looks really grim, and there’s reason for it: she’s currently wondering if she’s strong enough to just… squeeze his stupid little neck and keep squeezing until it snaps or he stops moving. She could pull it off. She could. She’s almost sure of it. ]

closed to chrollo

[ Okay, new resolve: no killing. She’d considered it, she’s gotten close, but ultimately these shitty deer are just a different kind of just as terrified as all their neighbors. It’s not worth it to kill them.

But that doesn’t mean she’s not still pissed. She’s not ready to leave this camp yet, not until she’s taken it out on a few of them. But she’d lost her dagger from Koltira back when she’d first gotten caught, and she’s feeling a little underprepared for payback just at the moment.

So she’s hovering, watching others, looking for some kind of opening to snag. She just… really wants to make one of them bleed. Just a little! Enough to pay for all those eyeballs in the central pool. It’s not so much to ask. ]

open

[ After all is said and done, Ramir is just tired. The bulk of the cultists seem to have been dealt with or chased off, but now and then a few of them still rally for another go and dart out of the undergrowth in a murderous wave. It’s old. She’s done with it. Her feet hurt and have started bleeding again. Ramir just wants to get somewhere dry and take the world’s longest nap.

She’s leaned up agains the trunk of a wide tree in just a quick break, looking tired and miserable as she summons up the energy for another foray into the thick undergrowth where you can hardly see them coming for you.

God, she misses her invulnerability way more than usual right about now. ]

#4 obviously

[kikoku]

[Law's well aware of the lingering cultists, but at this point his attention has been turned from fighting to recovering. After giving the freed Nalawi a once-over to make sure they hadn't been harmed, he notices Ramir. Or rather, her pre-existing injuries.]

I hope you're not planning on doing anything reckless with the condition you're in.
[Shouldering his massive sword, he gestures at her.]

Sit down. Let me take a look at your feet.

[heavyhitter]

[ Oh, shit, it's that guy. The doctor pirate, or something. Ramir stares for a few seconds, caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. She hadn't disliked him, though. He'd just popped up at a shitty time. ]

No, that'd be fucking stupid. [ She pushes off from her lean against the tree. ] Maybe do a check up or whatever after we're out of crazy cultist territory.

assuming they actually know each other's names ig

[thebelly]

[ North, to say the least, is concerned when he hears that people - his teammates - are kidnapped.

The concern doubles the moment he finds out it's someone he knows. Feeling concern for someone personally in his life is a rare thing for him, especially now. The Guardians can take care of themselves. The elves and the yetis never really leave the North Pole - and outside of that, there aren't very many people he knows personally. There weren't, anyway.

So he comes to find her, reckless as always - he knows that there are others who will be coming for her too, but worry for another individual's well being is an emotion he hasn't felt in a long, long time. Only it doesn't quite work the way he wants it to; everything around him suddenly looks faster, the deer's hooves hurt just a little more, and his movements feel slower.

He finds her as he stumbles out of a particularly thick part of the woods, most of the individuals gone - his hair's a mess, his beard's a mess, his clothes are also a bit of a mess, but he's still well and whole - ] Ramir!

[ North calls out, joy impossible to hide in his voice -- only a few more steps in and he realizes what she's doing, and when his voice calls out to her a second time, it's urgent. Shocked. ] Ramir--!!

that sounds like a good assumption

[heavyhitter]

[ She doesn't move at the sound of her name, not until she hears it the second time, with that note of urgency in it. Then she glances over, and is rewarded by the tip of the Nalawi's dagger scoring a line down her thigh. She hisses and jerks back out of range again, giving his head a hard twist with his antlers that makes him cry out. ]

Fucker.

[ She should just do it already. North's here, but whatever, an audience won't stop her. Her hands tighten in their hold, knuckles whitening. ]

[blacksilk]

[A few crows cawed, landing in the middle of the camp. A few of the guards, ones left over after a number of people had escaped and things had gone to hell, had been looking to make sure none of the remaining sacrifices got away. They were there to keep hostages to ensure things could at least be salvaged in their worst case scenario. A few of the cultists looked aside to the birds as they grew in abundance. More crows gathered, picking at the ground. After awhile, all eyes shifted to look at what looked like a massive murder of crows gathering in a single spot. They turned their backs to the edges of the camp and looked to the center, where the murder gathered.

They turned their backs on Chrollo, who had dropped out of a tree, landing soundlessly behind them. The birds all flew up at once with flapping wings shrouding the sound of a skull being pierced with a pen. Chrollo ripped his pen free of the first cultist's head, stepping over its corpse with ease as he drove his heel into the next cultist's left knee. It snapped and they screamed before Chrollo broke its next by grabbing both of its horns and twists its neck sharply in a clockwise gesture. That left two guards, both spotting Chrollo and lifting their spears in unison.

He smiled, the pen in his hand dripping blood in the grass.]

I thought you would be distracted a little while longer. This is bad, isn't it?

[heavyhitter]

[ Ramir's mostly hidden and mostly toward the edge, so while she gets a good view of the creepy-ass crows (are they even native here? what the hell), she doesn't feel any urge to back away from them. Whatever's happening there, she's almost sure it'll happen to the deer first.

Turns out she's right.

There's a sort of sick horror in how easily Chrollo kills, and she's quick to jump to her feet and charge out of hiding. She's not quite quick enough to stop two deaths, but maybe she can stop two more. She grabs for Chrollo's arm with a dark scowl. She may be short her usual strength (which is good news for Chrollo's arm), but her grip still isn't light or easy to resist. ]

Don't fucking do that!

here is your #1

[heelies]

[The glinting armor which clothes his body, and the crested helmet which crushes his hair to his temples, were forged for battles that push and crash like waves breaking upon rocks: they were forged as a beacon, that when he clad himself thus his Myrmidons would fall into file behind his war cry. Hephaestus had not forged them with stealth in mind. And so as Achilles moves through the dark of the underbrush, the thin pale ribbons of moonlight which drip through the branches catch him in his step.

He had answered the call to arms presently, eager to take up spear and shield after staying so long empty of the glory of battle. The cultists' flagrant betrayal of hospitality serves as the whetting stone upon which his fury sharpens. Human sacrifice is not foreign in his land - at times the gods test the piety of their suppliants, the limits to which they are willing to go. But still it bears on its back a dark omen, and the fate of this nation is not one in which those of this crew had asked to be tangled.

At times, he remembers still Iphigenia, the face of a girl who would not be saved and so solemnly met her murder at the behest of her own father. Still he remembers her mother, seized by sorrows and begging at his feet.

Here, the jungle thins and through the bushes he at last sees a cluster of bodies, still pumping life, still breathing, but bound. And above the antler-crowned heads is a face that grows in familiarity as he studies the shapes emerging from the darkness.]

Daughter of Jolanda, do my eyes deceive me veiled in darkness thus, or is that you there, stolen by these Nalawi while Ryba has robbed from them their wits?

[So he whispers, as verbose as ever.]

yesss it's beautiful

[heavyhitter]

[ Oh, holy shit. She knows that wordy-ass voice, even disguised in the low tone of a whisper. No one else would say that much while they're sneaking through a jungle. Honestly, Ramir never thought she'd be so glad to hear it. She'd even say so if she could make the words happen.

She really wants to twist around and look behind her, but that'd be fucking stupid, so she doesn't. The torch light is thinner out here, the shadows deeper, but it's not a perfect cover. The guards, short but formidable, would probably notice something like that. Instead she shifts much more slightly, doing her best to gauge where Achilles is by his voice, and thrusts out her bound wrists toward him. They're bound behind her back, which has been a terrible inconvenience right up until now. Assuming he has a knife. He has to have a knife, right? ]

mostly open

[kikoku]

[Rescue]
[Law may be a doctor, but he certainly doesn't look it, swinging around a a needlessly long sword that the Nalawi cultists are having a little trouble with him, but they are nothing in not insanely determined and aggressive. A group of them are ganging up on him, and he seems to be getting tired out pretty quickly. Maybe he could use a hand?]

[Exploration A]
[Once the immediate dangers have passed, Law's immediately sheathing his sword and going into Doctor Mode. If you look at all injured, you might have a frowing pirate jogging over to you, looking not at all in the mood to help anyone but;]

Stay still, let me look at your injuries.

[Exploration B- closed to Olivia]
[Most of the cultists have been taken care of, either dispatched or captured. A couple though, are still lying around alive but incapacitated. Law may ostensibly be on injury patrol, but when he comes across one, he's pulling out his sword.

It's a little uncomfortable how young the Nalawi in question looks. They seem pretty terrified too, both of the legs seem twisted at odd angles, at least from what can bee seen beneath the cloack, so all they can do is try to crawl away as Law looms above, preparing to stab.]

[winces]

S-Stop!

[ her shriek seems to come from nowhere. in fact, it's rather hard to tell where olivia herself had come from, or for how long she'd been there, but there she is, standing no more than ten feet away with a hand outstretched. she looks distressed, but understandably so given the scene she'd just been about to witness. she doesn't hesitate to stumble forward and drop down to her knees just beside the fallen cultist, one hand held out towards law, whom she's looking at as if he'd grown a second head. ]

What are you doing? Are you crazy?

[kikoku]

[It's so sudden, it actually gets Law to stop and turn his head to look at Olivia, though he doesn't move his sword from where it's raised above the frightened Nalawi's head.]

What does it look like? More than enough of the cultists have already been captured to get information out of. There's no need to keep the rest alive.
[All said in a tired tone that suggests he thinks Olivia is the one being unreasonable here.]

Rescue

[perma_banned]

[Law wasn't alone in his endeavors. Ban, brushing soot from his shoulders, left the part of camp that had suddenly risen up in flame. He was sneering, throwing sharp, heavy kicks and punches into cultists that sent them skidding through the dirt and into things, knocking everything apart as if he were excavating. Ban looked as if he were moving with an incredible amount of grace despite the heaviness of his swings. He was overly flexible and poised despite his height and lazy posture.

Even so, he was sluggish compared to the norm.]

Hell, there's a lot of these clowns~! We may not wiiiin!

[kikoku]

[Law of course has no idea he's not at the top of his form. He's still doing a lot better than Law. He's pretty strong himself, of course, but his fighting style heavily involves the use of his devil fruit techniques, and he can barely use any of those at the moment.

So, given his base temperament, he's not really in the mood for Ban's attitude.]

Don't say stupid things like that. Didn't you tell me that you're immortal?
[As he swings his sword to lop a leg off of a cultist that was gunning for his head.]

Rescuueee

[sekimorinashi]

[ Honestly, Tsukuyo doesn't really know what she's doing. It's not a feeling she enjoys, because she's used to knowing what she's doing, to an extent. Now, aside from knowing they need to rescue people ... She doesn't know how to fight in a jungle, she doesn't what these occultists really are, and she has basically no idea about what's going on on these islands in the first place.

But people need rescuing. So here she is. And she tries her best to use the trees, but that only gets her so far when the deer know the jungle better.

At least a group of them gathering up on someone with a really long sword is quite visible. She crouches on a branch, takes a drag of her pipe, and then grabs some kunai and sends them raining down on the deer. ]

[kikoku]

[Law barely flinches at the unexpected attack, and after taking out one straggling cultist with his sword, he looks up at the trees, trying to find the source of the kunai.

You'd expect gratitude, but no, he's glowering. He's got the sort of face where that could easily be his resting expression, but given what he then says to the treetops in general;]

I could have handled them fine on my own.
[What a jerk.]

Chrollo [Open]

[blacksilk]

[Rescue] - Warning for Violence, etc

[Chrollo had no desire to play the part of a hero, but there were times in which that card could be played to one's advantage. He had already supplanted himself in the eyes of a few as a technical thinker and alluded to a very amoral approach to things.

In the first few steps after he had entered the camp, it all took a very unnerving turn. He hadn't entered the camp alongside anyone. Chrollo had come out of the brush, coming to understand what Hellboy meant when he said the place would be difficult to find. It didn't have the usual sign of 'borders' that a camp would normally have. The cultists were well-hidden.

Chrollo noticed the much more subtle signs of passage and the marks that came with people living in a space. The first cultist he killed had been standing with Chrollo at his side for a few moments before he even realized he wasn't alone. In one fluid gesture, Chrollo's fingers rolled over his horns, his other hand found his chin to snap his mouth shut and he snapped his neck in a clean rotation. Chrollo hunched his body over him to muffle the sound before lowering him gently.

He kept moving. Barefoot, Chrollo was quick to move onto his next victim, patrolling the outer edges of the camp. It would take some time to whittle down their defenses, but he was eager to do so with the utmost caution. Chrollo was never one to discard an advantage.

He was just as prepared to be discovered as he was to utilize the surprise that would come from the other members of ALASTAIR invading, though--he had a few more surprises he could put to good use as well.]

[Exploration]

[He wasn't sickened by it at all. Chrollo mingled among bodies, stepping over them as he looked for texts or artifacts of importance. His eyes ran over objects, searching them for stray bits of power or importance. He found nothing worth taking.

Then, he found the pool. Chrollo hunched over it, examining it with his Gyo. Twisting, malevolent power rose from it, but he saw that it was just that--a pool filled with power. The sacrifice had been made, but Chrollo couldn't have stolen it if he couldn't identify the ritual or speak to the one who enacted it. It was a disappointing loss. Unable to at least profit from his venture, Chrollo sighed and reached up to run fingers through his hair. He was sweating from exertion and his heart had still been racing.]

Ryba... [He mulled over the creature's name with a measure of curiosity.]

How hungry are you, exactly?

groans, sorry i'm so late -- also exploration

[strictdiscipline]

[Despite her years in Ishval, the sight of dead bodies still fills her with a touch of sadness, a tinge of regret. Not enough for her to reconsider or take back her actions of that evening, but enough for her to pause a moment and spare a moment of silence for those who had lost their lives, both tonight and days before. Some had been deserving. Others...

Instead of lingering on the thought, she sets it aside, stepping over a prone arm to crouch down besides Chrollo.]

Find out anything?

Ban [Open]

[perma_banned]

[Rescue]
[Approaching any given situation with caution and preparation tended to lend aid to a thief. It didn't help to make big distractions to pick someone's pockets and, generally speaking, any noise at all never really helped someone corner someone for a mugging. Ban knew that if there was to be a rescue with a small party that he would have to sneak around, but--

The cultists would know help was coming. They would be ready and they would be aggressive and vigilant, so Ban decided to go for a few sleights of hand, instead.

Like an idiot, he sauntered through the woods with a lit torch over his head. Behind him, strung on cloth ropes, were leather water-skins filled to the brim with the Nalawi's local fire-water. Ban approached the camp and became very quickly surrounded by guards with spears. He raised his hands in surrender.]

Waaaait~. I'm unarmed. See~? I just brought you fellas all some drinks!

[Exploration]

[Ban was worse for wear by the end of it. He was bloodied all over, burned in places and limped after he tore a spear end from one of his calves. Despite himself, he didn't make a sound of protest as he walked around the camp, looking for people to pull free of the chaos.

He was, especially, looking for King.]

rescue!

[digophelia]

[ Coming through this section of the woods was decidedly a terrible idea for her. It wasn't so much her curiosity, this time, not like the times she had wandered into the Tugely Woods or further through Wonderland. Alice, who was driven by the desire to help others, had found herself momentarily lost and choosing the wrong path.

Hilariously enough, she had gone through the woods to find the cultists to assist others, walking into their camp and finding herself slightly exasperated.

She was hoping to be a little more stealthy, but Alice was never one for good direction, sadly. ]

Oh, for goodness sake.

[ There's no use backtracking and her immediate reaction is to withdraw the vorpal blade, just in case.

And, of course, he had to show up, didn't he? Alice whipping her head around to see him, her face growing sour as she saw him. Well, she's not unarmed. ]

Just my luck, it's you.

exploration;

[agrizzlysin]

[King takes a moment to appreciate all humans with lock-picking and rope-cutting skills because damn is it harder to escape his bindings the non-magic way. Especially when King has all the physical strength of a spaghetti noodle. He cuts his moment of appreciation short, however, when he's forced to duck away from a flying deer-turned-cultist. Not too keen on sticking around long enough for the deer to get up again, he scrambles up the nearest tree where he can catch his breath and free his tightly bound wrists unseen. He'd managed to distract the cultists long enough for Hellboy to escape, but rather than be glad he was able to bring help, King is stuck rubbing his bindings against a branch like his life depends on it. This is so not his day.

That thought hits all the harder the moment he catches sight of an injured Ban. King can't deny that he's scratched up too, but aside from some bruises where he'd struggled against his bindings, he's got nothing on the burned and bloodied husk limping around below him.]

Ban!

[The lowest branches of his tree shake as King tries to get down with his hands still tied. Hiding doesn't seem so important anymore.]

Hellboy / open

[hellshaped]

THE RESCUE.

[It didn't take Hellboy much time to double back toward the camp. He'd given people enough time to gather themselves and come to his aid, but he has never been good at waiting.

The horse-sized cat-shark Ninat is by his side as he plows into the camp, her teeth and claws helping accompanying his sledgehammer hand. There are too many people around for him to risk using his revolver, awful shot as he is, so instead he just slams his fist into whatever Nalawi rushes him with their antlers and fishing spears.

His reflexes are good, but even Hellboy can't see behind him: he's busy fending off a trident-wielding cultist when another rushes up and jabs her hooked spear right into his back.]

EXPLORATION.

[After all is said and done, Hellboy is quiet and brooding as he walks around the camp, investigating the things left behind by the cultists. He lightly kicks over a few effigies, finding the easy way they crumble to be satisfying, but not a decent way to get rid of his pent-up energy. The tip of his tail flicks aggravatedly, his jaw tight for lack of cigarettes.

Those who know him well recognize to leave him alone when he has this look on his face. But nobody in ALASTAIR knows that face well enough yet; his facial expressions are always subtle due to the nature of his musculature, and the difference between neutral and upset is difficult to see.]