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

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.

[kikoku]

[Law sighs, part exasperation part "technically she has a point." Still, he's stubborn as well.]

Fine. Come on then. You can leave the remaining cultists for everyone else to take care of.
[Running around in the jungle is the last thing you should be doing with your feet cut up like that.]

[heavyhitter]

[ Well, no issues with that idea. But as long as he's not demanding she sit down and make herself vulnerable, she's going to get back to this mini break. She shakes her head and drops back into a lean again. ]

Five minutes. If any little guys spring out of the bush screaming, I'll leave them to you.

[kikoku]

[Law doesn't respond immediately, looking her over before apparently deciding that it was a reasonable request and nods.]

If they're smart they'll stay well enough away. They're no match for me.
[Spoken like a true edgelord.]

[heavyhitter]

[ For real, look at that edginess. Ramir snorts as she eases herself down into a half-sit half-crouch. It's a good position to spring back up from again if she needs to. ]

Oh, yeah, I'm sure. But seriously, I gotta know -- how did a nine year old end up in a body like that?

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. ]

[thebelly]

Rimsky-Korsakov-! [ North dashes forward, half the speed he'd normally go at but dashing all the same. He may be lacking in speed at the moment, but as if his mind's gotten any slower, and the moment he gets in range -

There's a sword between the deer and Ramir, careful not to cut anyone, flat side of the blade facing each of them. ] Stop! This is not what you are wanting to be doing. [ Because the life of a sentient being is much more precious, whether they are human or a tiny biped deer. ] Let go!

[heavyhitter]

[ She's not quick enough to make her decision and get fatal before North makes it over to them, and then there's a sword thrust between her and the stupid deer, pretty much ruining any chances of pulling anything off. She doesn't let go though, stubbornly keeping ahold of the guy's antlers, even if it means shoving her forearm into the edge of a blade to make a point. She's not moving back. ]

This is exactly what I want to be doing! [ She flings her other arm out in a wide, angry gesture, encompassing that dark, brackish pool. ] Have you seen this shit? They're cutting out eyeballs and fucking murdering people! They tried to do it to me!

[thebelly]

Ramir-! [ He doesn't move the blade out of the way - he can't, because he knows what'll happen if he does. But he knows better than to hurt a comrade - a friend, and so he inches the blade back, just enough that the view is blocked, but it's not digging into her forearm -- ]

And they are people, with family and friends! They are trying to protect the people they care about!

[ Desperate to survive, if anything. His eyes flit back and forth between her and the deer, watching them struggle - North takes a deep breath, and his voice softens around the edges. ] You need to be bigger person. "Getting even" does not help.

[heavyhitter]

[ Ramir keeps a firm hold on the little guy despite his struggles — she doesn't need a direct line of sight or super strength for that. Physically speaking, humans definitely have the upperhand on these guys. But North's words don't go unheard, either. The fiery anger dims just a little in her face, pushing toward something more like uncertainty.

That's true. These assholes, they're the same people she's been living alongside since they got here. This is just them at their worst, scared and desperate. And she's pissed, but... it's not like she's dead. Or even hurt, if she's honest.

Her grip stays, but her eyes find their way to North, and stares up at him with more and more visible uncertainty. ]

You did hear the part about eyeballs, right? They're fucking assholes. [ She doesn't sound quite so pissed about it this time around, though. ]

[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!

[blacksilk]

[Chrollo gave pause when Ramir rushed to him, lowering his arm and loosening his fingers when she gripped it. He looked to her hand and then back to the guards, who were shakily levering spears in their direction.

She saved them for the moment, but they didn't really see it that way.

Chrollo, dispassionately, replied.]

They're prepared to gouge out the eyes of their neighbors for profit.

[Chrollo was guilty of the same sin. He was smiling because he knew it. He and the Nalawi were only different in their levels of desperation. Chrollo commited heinous acts for the benefit of the spider. The Nalawi fed their egos. When he stole power, it was to satisfy himself.

To him, they were competition. Even so, he looked to play the card he knew best.]

Have you seen what they were going to do to you for the sake of regaining power just to stroke their own egos?

[He faced Ramir in her anger. Chrollo's eyes steeled. Had he misjudged her?]

They shouldn't receive mercy--just like when we destroyed the beings that came from the mountain. How is it any different to kill someone else who's a threat to your life?

[heavyhitter]

[ She hates that fucking smile right now. It looks awful where it is, she wishes he'd wipe it off. ]

Yeah, I think I noticed, thanks. [ She holds tight to his arm, her glare fierce as her voice stays low. ] It's not for their egos, it's because they're fucking scared and don't know what else to try.

[ She drops his arm at something just short of a throw and whirls her attention toward the remaining guards. She has no weapons and no enhanced strength, but you'd never guess it from the large, looming threat of her body language. ]

Did you see how fast this guy killed your friends? Get the fuck out of here before I do you even faster!

[ They hesitate only until she starts on a swift course toward them, then they turn and disappear into the undergrowth. They might be crazy, but they're not stupid. ]

[blacksilk]

[The smile vanished on its own, just as they fled. Chrollo offered Ramir a frown. He didn't look dejected or disappointed. He simply looked as if he felt disapproval. He didn't agree with Ramir's intentions.]

In a short time, we've found the natives are bloodthirsty and keen on maintaining power for their own sakes. Even among their elder council members, they fight on a daily basis. They wiped out another race. If they fear anything, it's losing control of their power.

[Chrollo had a sense of kinship with them, but he refuted it for the sake of taking advantage or them. He stole three of their gifts, after all.

Chrollo stopped his arm when Ramir nearly shoved it. He watched her intently. He wanted to know where she really stood.]

You're sympathizing with people who were ready to treat us the same as cattle. Fear drives animals to become more dangerous. Fear drives people to random atrocities.

You can't let pity kill you.

[heavyhitter]

[ They're alone for a moment, Ramir doesn't expect it to last. She's seen the Nalawi disappear several times now, only to regroup and charge again. So she keeps her eyes on the trees around them as she speaks, and listens close for any sounds. ]

I don't give a shit, and they're not gonna kill me. They're not worth killing.

[ Not very eloquent, but it's all she's got when she's only paying about half attention to the conversation. She finally slides a glance toward Chrollo again with narrowed eyes. ]

You get one down alive, though, you fucking point him out to me. I'm gonna make those assholes regret everything.

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? ]

[heelies]

[Indeed he has a knife, girded at his waist in the absence of a sword: this he brandishes at her unspoken request, and its steel tip bites through the ropes with binds her wrists. Upon pulling the rope away, he presses into her palm the handle of the dagger. Thus, they are both armed.

But for the heft of the weapon, he speaks no other reassurance. A black-shrouded Nalawi passes at the far edge of the gathered captives, and Achilles' eyes flash as do storm clouds when the son of Chronus casts his lightning. He is of two minds: to take the cultist captive that he might be pressured with questions, or to slaughter them all where they stand.]

[heavyhitter]

[ Actually getting the dagger is more than she expected. She feels a rush of gratitude as her fingers close instantly around the hilt, gripping it firm and secure. She keeps that hand low and out of sight, but the other flies to the gag. She pulls it down just enough to hiss out a few words: ]

Hold up, don't do anything stupid. There's more of them than you think.

[ They're in and out of the camp, disappearing and reappearing like little cloaked ghosts from the undergrowth. Their height and knowledge of the jungle is a serious, really unfortunate advantage. She half turns her head, not quite toward Achilles, just to be able to direct her voice back to him a little more discretely. ]

Did Hellboy find you? [ No, stupid question, she immediately replaces it with another: ] How many of you are there?

vague hand gestures at numbers

[heelies]

[At the hiss of her words his gaze cuts back through the dark to her, and the shadow-cloaked Nalawi melts into the jaws of the forest once more. From the light allowed by the flickering tongued flames of the torches, the scope of the camp is difficult to discern: and so, he shoulders her caution and holds still. In his muscles, however, coils the want for thrusting himself into battle.]

A small band of us have encircled this location. Worry not - no matter their numbers, these vile traitors will fall to my spear as wheat falls before the scythe. They have not even their gifts to protect them from this black fury which fills my heart.

[His own godlike strength may be dimmed under the heavy pall of this curse, but still his spear is as an extension of his arm, of the beat of his heart. His size too tips the scales toward him: the Nalawi can slip like shadows through the bristling underbrush, but once he roots them out he can overwhelm them through brute force.]

[heavyhitter]

The black fury that fills your heart, how do you think my heart's doing.

[ Too bad she doesn't have much beyond this knife. Well, at least she's got that, it's an improvement over what she had five minutes ago. Her hands, still held behind her back to imitate still being bound, clutch at the hilt of it. It's with a whole lot of reluctance she says: ] We gotta get King and the other hostages outta here before anything else.