EVENT ★ POKAREKARE ANA

[futurologists]

NALANNI Now as weak as any mortal, Nalanni only needs one person to dispatch her. Though Jason has been selected for the sad deed, it would be smart not to let him go it alone. Once Nalanni ceases to be, the ground quakes and roils. The planet's rock and earth can feel the loss of its mother, and with Ryba still living, the power imbalance throws the world into turmoil. Monsters stream forth from the cave Nalanni had been held on the risen Dakal island. But unlike before, when Pomarr blew through the side of Nalalona and left lava creatures in her wake, these monsters are made of stone. And they are gigantic. Ranging from five to nine meters (roughly 16-30 feet), the stone golems are slow-moving but powerful, capable of crushing anything in their path with their feet or powerful fists. The golems cannot be spoken to or reasoned with; all they feel is the loss of their mother and the vacuum of power she has left behind. Their mindless anger makes them easily distracted, so teamwork is the best way to keep them at bay. Roughly formed of rock and hardened mud, they are weak to water. Luckily, halfway through the day, a light rain begins to fall. The golems will continue to come forth from the earth until Ryba is defeated. Upon her death, they will simply collapse into inert piles of stone. RYBA THE DEVOURING ONE Pomarr stays true to her word and draws the sea goddess to the shore of the deserted island that once housed the Dakal. Without comment, Pomarr turns and steps into an ALASTAIR rift, leaving your team to its business. Ryba is impossibly large, a mass of twisting, searching tentacles with no discernible body. She is especially weak to electrical attacks, but can otherwise be defeated by simply wearing her down with brute force. Now that you've got your collective powers back, it should be a piece of cake. Right? ATTACKS: TENTACLES. Ryba's initial attack is waving her massive, numerous tentacles around to try and keep combatants at bay. Despite their size, they are surprisingly quick -- capable of snapping at anyone who dares get too close, whiplike, or simply crushing those who stay still for too long. Her tentacles are seemingly endless, impossible to count, and move about in a nearly hypnotic way. THE STORM. After enough damage has been dealt, Ryba will grow more desperate and begin to use her connections to the sea itself. Though the battle is near the shore, sudden winds whip at the recruits, pulling them away from the shallows. Drowning becomes a real danger: the waves are high and fast, and intensely swirling waterspouts crisscross with intent to sweep recruits up, scrambling them. SHARKNADO. Ryba's last-ditch effort calls upon the creatures of the sea as well as the wind and waves. She creates a swirling vortex with her massive body in the center in attempts to shield herself from attacks. But that's not all -- spinning around her at high speeds with the vortex are sharks. A lot of sharks. And they are all angry. If characters attempt to speak with Ryba through the battle, she will respond in a calm, dark voice throughout: she has nothing to say to the invaders who would dare take her from the peace of her trench, except that they must destroy her or she will kill them all herself, before the world crumbles to nothing. Once Ryba is defeated, her massive body will simply cease moving. Goddess or not, it seems her form is as physical as any other creature of the sea. ISLANDERS During the day-long battle, characters who choose not to fight are advised to stay behind with the Nalawi to keep them safe. Though the battle rages far to the west, on the once-sunken island of the Dakal, the storms may travel to the westernmost edges of the Nalawi islands. Recruits may attempt to temporarily evacuate the westernmost Nalawi, though there may be considerable resistance. After the battle, the Nalawi can instantly tell that their goddess is gone for good. Where there was once confusion and desperation in the face of Nalanni's disappearance, there is now only sorrow and directionlessness. All recruits are invited to return to Komo, the first island at the start of the mission, for a somber memorial for Nalanni: the Nalawi don't blame the recruits for what has happened, and only expect them to join in their grief. For the rest of the time on Nalawi, characters may spend their time as they wish. The locals will need help learning how to cope without their Gifts and how to live without the goddess on whom they had come to rely. They will need help learning all sorts of trades, from fishing to pottery to plumbing, so characters who have knowledge in the mundane will have their time to shine. But the Timeline is always in need of tending, so recruits can't stay here forever. Say your goodbyes, because soon a rift will open and you'll be headed back to Oska. OOC INFO Mods will not be NPCing the Ryba encounter, so you are free to NPC her attacks yourself. Please remember that defeating her is a group effort; no one person will have the "killing blow." The battle against Ryba will take one full day. After she is defeated, recruits will have 13 days to say goodbye to the Nalawi before departing for Oska. If characters wish to temporarily stay behind in Nalawi, see here for details.

Comments

ENCOUNTER WITH NALANNI.

[futurologists]

The arrival on the resurfaced, sunken isle of Dakal was quiet and uneventful. Pomarr greeted the group with little fanfare as they disembarked the warship, but seemed to be searching the faces of ALASTAIR’s recruits. She found what she was looking for quickly, and made her way to one in particular: Jason. He was pulled aside, quietly instructed that Nalanni had asked for one recruit in particular to finish her, and that it was an allowance Pomarr was willing to provide.

Jason, and whoever may accompany him, is shown to the mouth of a tunnel and informed that it’s a straight walk from here to Nalanni’s chamber, before Pomarr stepped away to attend other matters. She failed to mention that it’s a long walk. A dark one, too. Jason’s group will have at least five minutes of an underground hike ahead of them, accompanied only by whatever light they bring in with them.

Better get started.

Archer | OTA

[anti_altruisms]

I. Rock'em Sock'em Golems!

[ The death of Nalanni resonates throughout the earth. The violent tremors threaten to shake the very foundations of the world, but for Archer, there's no small amount of relief as his strength comes flooding back. The full breadth and scope of his power returns in a rush, and it's invigorating as well as sobering. The goddess has passed, and it is time to slay the other.

Except there is one more obstacle they must face. Giant creatures of rock and stone rise up in response to the passing of the goddess, and Archer is ready to meet them.

Bow in hand, Archer keeps his distance, covering those who might with to engage them at a closer range. He hammers them with wave after wave of bright, red arrows. If he sees someone about to get crushed or harmed, he'll dart in closer and snatch up the person in danger. ]

II. Get Up On Ursula's Back!

[ He can sense her where Pomarr drags the goddess of the deep to the shore.

Still armed with his bow, Archer again attempts to take the higher ground to better cover his teammates. Red arrows streak down from above, piercing and slicing through tentacles, but eventually, Ryba appears to get wise to his technique. A massive tentacle lashes out at him, and Archer curses under his breath as he dodges.

The bow vanishes, and twin blades appear in his hands. He brings the fight to Ryba, navigating the storm and everything else to the best of his ability.

Pulling back, finally, Archer summons his bow again and draws a different sort of arrow. Gathering the energy for it, Archer fires it right into Ryba's core, past all of the flailing tentacles and minions.

An explosion rocks the area, and again, Archer takes up his swords. ]

III. The Long, Somber Goodbye

[ It's been a long, long day, and an even longer couple of months.

Archer, for his own part, is cut and bleeding in several places. Half of his face is streaked red with blood, and the battle took longer and more effort than he was expecting. They are alive, though, and balance has been restored.

Staring at the carcass of Ryba, Archer feels a very familiar sense of déjà vu. There is no regret, only a sense that they have won a hollow victory.

He returns to Komo with the rest of their number, and he pays his respects to the memorial of Nalanni. He bore her no personal ill-will, after all, and it seems like the right thing to do.

He is hardly the most eloquent or social person, but he pitches in where he can, teaching the Nalawi survival skills, such as he remembers them. Life will never be the same for them again, and it's the least he can do. ]

koltira deathweaver | open

[respired]

i. you're big. fought bigger;

[ When Nalanni dies, Koltira feels his power snap back into him like a rubber band. Byfrost's runes surge with necromantic energy, and his lichfire eyes blaze as the full force of his strength comes screaming back to his muscles, his torpid blood, his now screaming nerves. It's a hurricane of awful magic, overwhelming and agonizing. Koltira shuts his eyes, steeling himself, focusing entirely on keeping tight hold to his own mind.

He takes Byfrost from his back, exerts his will over the sword, and all of its skittering runes turn icy blue. He opens his eyes, tasting blood in his mouth, feeling it drip cold and acerbic down his chin. For better or for worse, Koltira Deathweaver is himself again.

And it's time to earn his name.

The rock monsters stagger forward from the mouth of Nalanni's cave, and it's not long before he's completely surrounded. He sneers up at them, made cocky by the rush of virulent energy in his veins. He swings Byfrost, and a wall of ice follows the arc of his blade, freezing the golems temporarily in place. He uses this moment of stillness to run forward and jump with a liquid agility that seems unnatural for a person in full plate armor, bringing Byfrost down on the golems' limbs, their heads, wherever he can feasibly strike.

He's not mowing them down, but that's not his intention, either. He just wants to keep their focus for a while, thin their numbers, and clear a path to the real obstacle ahead. Meantime, he fights relentlessly, and if he spots another person so engaged, he will call out to them: ]

Allow me.

[ A whip of shadow energy follows this declaration, cracking forth from his open palm. If you were fighting a golem, guess what--you aren't, anymore, as that whip lashes itself around the golem's midsection and drags it right over to Koltira. He's trying to tank for you. Don't be mad. ]

ii. calamari;

[ Koltira has no intention of spending the day with the golems. He's on his way before the rain starts, though his eyes are already wild from battle. He glances at Pomarr as she slips through the rift; some part of him approving and glad. But the rest of him is all knife-sharp nerves and aggression. He had despised Ryba from the start, and while Nalanni might be a complicated situation, he finds no such nuance in this fight. Ryba is an offshoot of the old gods themselves, to his mind, and her cancer should have been cut out long ago. ]

Do not fear the sea, ALASTAIR!

[ He casts his path of frost as he yells; everyone gathered for the fight--regardless of proximity--will find their boots glowing with a sudden swirl of icy power. Walking across the water will cause it to freeze under their feet, forming a solid base from which to attack.

Koltira fights like a demon: ruthless and fast and unyielding. Unholy magic pours from his runeblade, its sickly green color casting a nauseating patina over Ryba's tentacles as he infects them with debilitating plague. They curl and wilt as he slices through them, as the blood coats Byfrost and his armor, as his weapon drinks the blood and converts it into more energy, more power.

When the storms come, he draws heat from the air to freeze the oncoming waves as they crash; some of them tower above the recruits ominously, glittering. Best to keep moving, as the effect only lasts for a few seconds before the waves break free and come down.

And when the sharks come, he's--he is temporarily at a loss. But he's been fighting so long and so hard already that it's only a moment before he's diving right into that vortex, though his focus now is on dragging anyone he can find out.

Possibly with the same shadow whip he used on the golems. It's not terribly pleasant, but it works. ]

iii. somebody heal him he is making a mess on the floor;

[ He's battered to hell and back, but the job is done, and he's not ashamed of it.

Even so, he does show his face at the memorial. He cannot forgive Nalanni for what she did to the Dakal, and he never had any love for Ryba in the first place, but he does know the meaning of respect. He knows that the Nalawi were at war, and that they did not consciously set their goddess on their enemies (even if they shed no tears over the Dakal's destruction).

More importantly, he knows that their actions here have permanently altered the Nalawi way of life, and that ALASTAIR must take responsibility. So he's at the memorial. Lurking, really, on the outskirts. Silent, covered in wounds and bandages, watching.

His face is, as always, an inscrutable mask. ]

iv. wildcard;

[ ANYTHING ELSE, including walking around time post-battle. Koltira's not a great teacher of anything, but he's a strong pair of hands, and he will dutifully assist/demonstrate any labor-intensive tasks. ]

Loki | Open

[selfimage]

i. In the beginning, there were swords.

[ what was the last count of free swords that she had? it was twelve where it used to be fifteen: one sword to the Huntsman, one to Emma (who, in an epic bout of verbal combat, denied Loki of any form of deal in compensation for the blade), and one for her. it wasn't a particularly stunning blade, worn and in need of a little care, but it did the duty that any good pointy thing is supposed to do: it smote a few dozen enemies once upon a time on a lost island. with Loki's sorcery returned upon Nalanni's demise, along with Gram, blade of truth by her side, the count of swords to give away goes up by one. that makes thirteen.

they're stuck upright in the soft sand for inspection, and it's sad to say that none are great works of art. they're worn at the handle with blades in need of sharpening. it's a little crude, but anyone in need of a weapon can hardly complain. Loki would say that it was the bearer, rather than the weapon (it was only half true, at best, but she was convincing). ]

Free the swords. [ so she sounds a little unenthusiastic. ] Free the swords. Ah—silly me, I mean free swords.

[ where Loki wasn't about to take up arms against Nalanni or Ryba, she knew that the backlash (and the hollowing void that echoes against her insides, forcing her to face the unnatural reality that this cannot continue) would be enough that arms would be needed. people who have to protect themselves against the coming calamity. ]

ii. Chaos happens.

[ the universe is at war with itself. there's an off key hum, a reality stuck in indecision, and children in search of their mother, even in her passing. (behind it all, the screaming void.) it has a sort of tragedy that Loki expected, but Nalawi is the sort of tragedy that Loki expected. chaos suits this place, and she watches the stone beasts wander aimlessly in their fury, hitching rides and diverting them from the places of shelter with a few basic illusions. they're numb and directionless in their savagery, and Loki uses that to her advantage.

despite all the danger, Loki seems casual enough in her pursuits to deter the stone beasts (even to the point where she's somewhat annoying). she'll let one get just far enough before herding it back in another direction, causing it to turn a one-eighty and head south instead of north, or east instead of west. when there's a good frame, she lifts the now-working StarkPhone to get a picture.

the rain is welcome when it comes, dampening her hair. the scent of ozone is in the air, a reminder. anyone who's in need of aid will get it with a sigh of exasperation and a swagger of her hips to help.

("""help""") ]

iii. And in the end, all stories change.

[ there was the inevitable backlash, the chaos and the ruin. the world is now lonely and godless; it wouldn't strike her so oddly if she hadn't been witness to the gods upon this plane days ago. the calm comes when the screaming void quiets, and fabric of stagnant indecision slowly begins to flow again, as if it were suddenly given reason for movement.

Nalawi has changed; it's what ALASTAIR had set out to do in the first place. some things would be better without gods, and there are world without them (certain worlds, certainly, that would be better without Lokis).

this kind of grief really isn't her thing (it's not like she feels bad about it), so she finds a place to watch, and come dusk when most have gone home to their families, she approaches the where the those sending their wishes to a dead god had been. ]

Speaking god to god—stories change, I suppose. The divine remain in myth. At least you both went out with a bang, hm? Well, kind of.

[ she clicks the lighter that she had found in the bunker, casting a small, brief flame. ]

Toodles.

rin tohsaka / closed prompts

[defenceless]

💎 for ashraf:

[she's covered in dark blood, drenched by the spinning waves and she doesn't look like herself, even compared to the last time she ended up on this island. rin drops to the ground with a thump after she finishes an attack—she lands on her own two feet without wavering, but she's hugging her left side.

bleeding out from where her opposite hand clamps over her arm, there's a bright fresh red slowly staining the fabric of her coat sleeve. she stops and winces when she's cleared the shore enough, staring down at the gash slashed through her from elbow to wrist. a subtle panic in her features is just barely under control.

shedding some of her own blood in the battle is nothing new, but she's never hurt her left arm this severely.]

💎 pm me if you want anything else set up! i'll be looking around to tag, too! c:

Sieglinde Sullivan | OTA

[grunehexe]

⚝ 01; MAGICAL RESURGENCE [HEAL PREP]

[There was no way of knowing what was happening on the island, not after the boat had sailed carrying Pomarr and the rest, leaving those behind who were dedicated to preparing for the wounded, evacuating the Nalawi, or even just conscientiously objecting.

For her part, Sieglinde was preparing even physical means to heal in the case that the worst continued and her magic did not return, gathering bandages, her own potions, checking on a pot of boiling water at the makeshift triage center on the shore closest to the island chosen for the battle, directing those who had elected to assist in the healing endeavors, when suddenly...]

Did you feel that- ?

[Their powers were back. Nalanni was dead.]

⚝ 02; SOMEBODY CALL 911 [HEALING]

[Sieglinde is not on the front lines. She had neither the heart, nor the strength for it, and as much as she despised it... a young girl who could not walk was more a burden than a boon in a place like that, even if magic had returned.

Healing is what she does- and they'd had ten days to prepare, which meant she'd been able to make more potions, contact those she knew could heal, help, or transport the wounded by flight or teleportation, ask them for their assistance...

After the ship left, though, with the combatants on board, it was a waiting game. Waiting, until across the waves they attacked Ryba, and the storm intensified... and the first patients began to trickle in.]

You, sit down with those wounds-

[You're bleeding all over the sand, and Sieglinde is quick to beckon towards one of the pallets dragged down to the beach, trying to take stock of what's broken, bleeding, or hurting.]

What is the situation with Ryba?

[But injured or not... she has a question for all her patients throughout the day.]

⚝ 03; GET TO DA BARRIER [HELP THE HEALERS]

[With Nalanni's death, the world has grown angry, and that anger has birthed monsters of stone and earth. One of which has found the healer's tent.

Isengrim's barking was what got Sieglinde's attention, the skull-faced canine suddenly lunging half out of the tent, growling loudly. Shocked by the normally quiet creature's reaction, Sieglinde stumbled from her seat, pulling tent canvas aside only to gasp, eyes widening at the sight of a golem-like creature, twenty feet tall and lumbering their way across the sand.]

Wards-

[She stumbled back into the tent somewhat pale as her familiar bared its teeth and snarled louder in the creature's direction, casting a look about those volunteers gathered.]

Offensive magic- Can anyone here dismantle a stone beast- ?

⚝ 04; WILDCARD

[Hit me up on plurk, plotting thread, or just throw a prompt my way! Sieglinde will be working on healing during and after the fight with Ryba, will be teaching the Nalawi after, and also attend the memorial. Anything goes!]

Giovanni | OTA

[ofobedience]

i. FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!

[Nalanni dies, and it comes on quickly.

He can feel it there, scrabbling at his insides claws against his ribs against his Spine his bones knocking hollow like there's something in there with him (there always is, isn't there?) but what had turned quiet and sullen just a whisper in his blood is now suddenly frantically violently awake and it hurts almost, like it's trying to rip it's way out and just like that the air is knocked out of him and he's dropping to his knees.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Onetwo.

There's a shivershudder running all the way down to his tailbone and back up again to detonate in the back of his mind with a growl sharp and hot breath all choked up in his throat because there it is the Spine and everything that comes with it, everything everything--

He lets out a dry crackle of laughter before regaining his feet. He feels...perhaps better isn't the word for it, nor normal, but it all clicks back into place inside him like bolts driving home locks slamming shut and quite suddenly he can't wait to sink is teeth in and fight.

He'll avoid the rock monsters where possible, head straight for the main course.

If anyone should need cover he is your (somewhat unpredictable) man, any wounds he sustains healing in a matter of seconds beneath a veil of acrid smoke. And although he retains some small shred of elegance, a poise that can be just about discerned in the swift fluid movements and deadly precision with which he fights, there's something more animal than man about the way he launches into his attacks. He'll use his freshly-acquired sword, yes, but should it come to it, teeth and nails will do just as well.]

ii. AFTERWARDS

[He's not been here long, and there's no-one here that could claim to know him. It's a good thing, perhaps. After the battle is over and he's done dragging in fractured panted breaths, composure returning and the polished mask of indifference erasing the savagery that had come before it, there's something cold and hard at the centre of him, a small hollow of disquiet. His clothes are torn, face and hair and everything else bloodied to a greater or lesser degree, but he's silent. Strangely subdued.

He doesn't care a jot for the people here, nor for the dead gods of this world. But something twists like a knife between his ribs all the same, the unpleasant sensation that something isn't quite right. He's thinking of his own world. Of Mother. Barely senses the link between this scene and back there, trying to ignore it as best he can. He'll stand staring at the water for some time after Ryba's demise, expression blank and unreadable.

Later, he attends that somber memorial for Nalanni, though he keeps his distance, skirting the edges of the gathering like a spectre or a shade.]

Open starters

[asscan]

Islanders: Herding Cats Deer
While most of the team had sailed off to the risen Dakal island to slay gods, there were a few who had remained behind. Some, out of cowardice, some, out of apathy. Others still, like Laedo, remained behind out of a sense of duty that trumped all marching orders from ALASTAIR.

Long since had he been preparing for this day. On the lee of their largest island, he'd been flying in sympathetic teammates to help clear, set up camp, and stock it well for anyone who might find themselves in need of shelter or medical attention. He'd watched the ship sail away with a bitter heart, and had been spending most of the day attempting to convince deer-folk to safer confines, but not without a lot of resistance. Most of the Nalawi choose to disbelieve his most strident efforts, not the least of which is because he is being long-winded and imperious as fuck.

The only folk who seem interested in listening at all are the children, who've taken his pleas as special leave to use him as a real live (and large) jungle gym. At least most of them have found their way into the netting he's clipped into his harness, though some have climbed up onto his neck and are plucking his fur from between the golden armor he's been wearing for days now.

A few worried looking Nalawi are watching their children, and are looking out across the sea, and some seem almost ready to join the mighty askan. Spotting another ALASTAIR member, Laedo calls out, "you, come here, help me convince these people that evacuating is in their own best interests!"

Already rain is starting to come down. He can feel the twang of his magic returning to him, flooding back into his system even as water begins to bead and soak into the ground around them. Dangerous storms won't be long now...



Funereal Services: Nothing Like Commemorative Gifts!

Towards the end of the mourning, Laedo wanders into the central remains of the Komo village that most of his team first arrived in. He's building a statue from spun magic: a life-sized rendition of Nalanni in dark obsidian, hands raised gently to either side before a circular platform big enough for a full family of deer people to gather. He's finally shrunk down to be human-sized and shaped, the better to look this replica in the eye and ensure that he's spun the magic just right to give her that perfect matronly benevolence.

It takes him into the twilight of dusk to complete, even with all his magic on hand, but that's fine. When he's finally done, he removes the opal she'd given him from his armor and places it at the replica's breast, like a glimmering stone heart. He then folds a spell for light deep into the statue's core, channelling the reservoir to her hands where ghostly flames flicker with subdued realism. Perhaps it is kitsch, or disrespectful, but where he is from statues of the goddess and her four lords are prominent among geometric perfections, and this is a simple tribute.

Feel free to interrupt him at any point, though he may not be cheerful company.



After the rain has washed the blood away

Laedo reclines on the beach in the full light of day, wing-arms splayed to catch the heat. It's been a while since the fateful day of the slayings and he's been thinking hard about how awful this has all been. On one hand, he wants to leave Nalawi and never turn back... but isn't that what he's done his entire life, when things got hard?

He hasn't spoken much, but he's begun to make up his mind that simply herding deer around is not enough. He needs to live up to the spirit in which his people were created: to help those in need. He'll be especially willing to pony up on any requests made of him over the last few weeks, but the fight has gone out of him while he wallows in guilt.

Sakura Kinomoto l Cardcaptor Sakura

[keystaff]

During the Battle:

[Somehow, in spite of having been home for a while just now, it doesn't take long for Sakura to settle back into things. To get her bearings and attempt to focus on assisting Sieglinde with making potions, preparing to assist any injured.

Alternatively, she can be found flying around attempting to keep an eye out for anyone that needs help to get to their base of sorts. The place where they are tending to the injured and keeping the Nalawi, and anyone that doesn't want to fight, safe.

Or she could be assisting in defending said base from the rock creatures, if any make it near them. She uses the Sakura Cards, previously the Clow Cards, now transformed with her own magic, along with her new staff, now shaped like a star rather than a sort of bird.

If not one of those scenarios, she can be found attempting to get the Nalawi to agree to evacuate, pleading with them.]

After the Battle:

[Sakura can be found supporting the Nalawi, escorting them back to Komo for the memorial. But she isn't sure what to say, if anything, that might help reassure them. So instead, she hovers a bit in wanting to at least be there for support, to mourn with them for their loss.]

Aftermath:

[Sakura can at least try to help, with what she knows from school or helping out with chores around the house back home, doing all that sort of thing without the help of her magic. So she can be found teaching pottery, or cooking, perhaps some fishing if she manages to figure some rods, though that sort of thing is really more fun with her class on their trips. Trying to focus on helping them as much as she can before they leave.

Though this might also more be the better time to potentially corner her to discuss things, since she was clearly back home for a while. Now things are not quite so dire as they were with the battle. She's certainly taller, her features more refined than before with her younger more round face. She just may be attempting to figure more changes of clothes as a result of her having grown.]

Sorey

[historiology]

Nalanni:

[It feels amazing, the moment it hits him. Like a part of him, that ache of loss and confusion over being unable to hear or see his seraphim friends, that he is whole again. And it is now under his control again. He can't deny how great that feels and he relishes in it, readying himself for the upcoming battle.

He's also thus assisting in attempting to defend others from these rock monsters, calling upon Edna, his earth seraph friend, in order to deal with them, though alternately switching to getting assistance from Mikleo as well, since water seems rather effective in dealing with the creatures.]

Ryba:

[This is hardly the first or likely the last time things come to a head and they end up fighting. Sorey is doing his best, at least. Supported of course, by Mikleo now he can armatize once more. This time, those also participating should be able to see what the two look like when armatized together. He'll be firing arrows of barrages of water at Ryba, or attempting to slash at the tentacles with his sword if they get too close and he needs a break from being armatized.]

Aftermath:

[Of course, once things calm down a little more, Sorey joins the Nalawi at their memorial for their goddess. He can't help wanting to support them somehow, still feeling bad about the way everything turned out, even if it was at the goal of not destroying their world and letting the Nalawi live.

After said memorial, over the next two weeks or so, he's still attempting to teach them all he can. Hunting, some basic survival skills in making use of the game they hunt, how to defend themselves (though really they don't seem to need so much help in that area.....). ]

Haise Sasaki | OTA

[ex_adept136]

I. Golems
[Haise had made it clear well before the promised day that he wouldn't have a hand in killing the goddesses. And true to his word, he hasn't gone to end Nalanni's life...nor does he intend to go after Ryba. He stays on the beach where those with healing hands and medical knowledge are prepared to receive the injured, assisting as best he can with their work.

While he may not agree with his associates' course of action, it doesn't mean he wishes them harm or any other ill. From time to time he wonders how they are faring - whether Rin's supposition that Nalanni was awaiting death was true after all.

And then he feels it. His senses come roaring back with intense clarity, hearing and smelling his companions around him - and even those a greater distance away. Even the briny spray licking the coastline is sharper on the air. Strength seeps into his muscles, his joints, his bones...

Haise knows, in that instant, that Nalanni's life has been extinguished. That knowledge tightens in his chest like a vice, but he shoves it down. There isn't time, as the shoreline lurches and shudders underfoot, and hulking stone figures come lumbering toward the healers' tents. Gritting his teeth, he collects his sword-like quinque and rushes in their direction.

Let his grief be good for something]

II. Aftermath
[Haise has taken on his share of stone monsters today, and when at last the chaos subsides, he sinks down to the sand in exhaustion. His quinque juts out of the sand and his arm's all but hanging from it, maintaining a grip on its hilt. Blood is caked in his hair, trailing sticky red lines down one side of his face. Deep red has seeped into his clothes, torn from the day's combat.

Vaguely, he wonders if ALASTAIR charges for extra uniforms, but it's a fleeting thought as he draws ragged gasps of air. He put everything he could into defending the healers' tents, and his fatigue weighs heavily on him now.

If all that blood is his, he should be far worse off than exhaustion... And some may have seen golems occasion to literally knock him across the shoreline]

III. Funeral
[After the battles are over, after ALASTAIR's directive has been completed, Haise joins the Nalawi in mourning their goddess. Although he had only spoken to her for minutes, he'd had the distinct impression that her love for her people outweighed all else. And now, from what he's heard, it seems that wasn't an incorrect assessment.

It seems he may have had more misgivings about Nalanni being sacrificed than she herself did. He isn't sure what to feel about that. The thought settles in his gut with the weight of stone.

After darkness creeps over the horizon, Haise finds a quiet spot near the tide-pools he'd visited while assisting Sieglinde in her lessons for the Nalawi. There he settles on rock still warmed by a day of sun, watching the tiny creatures that inhabit that shallow pocket of water.

Or rather, he's looking in that direction, cheek propped against his fist, but it's clear his thoughts are far away now]

Dick Gumshoe

[trenchdoting]

the fucking shardknado

[Gumshoe has had little to no idea what's going on, and has been next to useless during these final battles, although that's par for the course when it comes to big trials at home.

And now during this latest phase, Gumshoe has found himself swept up in the storm! He's trying his best to stay alive, though, and he's managed to cling to the back of one shark that is wildly trying to throw him off! He also has to watch out for other sharks in the tornado that are trying to make their way towards him and help their buddy out...

The scruffy detective wearing a an old trenchcoat over his ALISTAIR uniform is not sure if he should feel excited or horrified by this, so Gumshoe's screams reflect both emotions.]

Wild Card

[Feel free to come up with your own prompt!]

gilgamesh | open

[babbylon]

to the rescue.

[You've been fighting fiercely against Ryba for what feels like forever. The tentacles just keep coming, and the water churns like it means to swallow you whole—and that's because it does. It seems like an uphill battle, made all the more so with Ryba's constant attempts to disorient and disarm. It seems almost unwinnable, until...

Until a presence descends before you. Or rather, a presence in the form of a weapon, floating just within your reach. Be you a user of the sword, spear, the axe, the bow, or something else altogether, you have been sent aid. And not moments after does the perpetrator come barreling forth to support you, wielding a living blade that has unmade beings far worse than Ryba before. Caged in golden armor, a god in his own right against fellow divinity.

Gilgamesh himself now stands beside you, and he's ready to help fight.]

Do not falter. The King shall march; you need only follow.

[Gilgamesh's charismatic aura surrounds you... perhaps all is not lost quite yet. With his blade, Ea, he directs you to attack.]

shark attack.

[Battling goddesses was serious business, but that doesn't mean there's not room for a bit of fun.

For Gilgamesh, a bit of fun meant treating the ensuing sharknado like a game of baseball. He's wielding a weapon as if it's a bat and just knocking the beasts everywhere in between howls of laughter. He's obviously having a very good time, and once he catches sight of someone else nearby, he's going to encourage them to join him.]

Come! Let us make some sport of it; I can dispatch more of these mongrels than you!

[Gilgamesh looks pretty insistent... maybe you'd better just play along with it before he tries to make sport of you instead.]

victory and loss.

[Congratulations on emerging triumph, ALASTAIR! Through hard work and coordinated effort, Ryba has gone down. And while it would've been natural for Gilgamesh to celebrate—him, most of all, having occupied the front lines for the better half of a day—he couldn't be further from jubilant. Something seems to have hit him hard, much harder than Ryba ever could. He appears to be looking for someone, eyes darting along the shore. Seeking in vain for what he'll never find again.

You could try talking to him, but he's distant and quite clearly distressed. He ignores all else around him, including the panicked deerfolk, in favor of his search.]

Brother? Master? Where have you gone?

[In his heart, he knows they are lost, but that won't stop him from trying anyway.]

wildcard.

[Hit me up with anything else you want! I can make excuses for Gil to be just about anywhere.]

daenerys targaryen ♛ ota

[conqueress]

a. a dance with dragons (and rock monsters) ♛

[ The rock golems are many and widespread when the shadow first threads through the clouds: visible one moment, and gone the next. Daenerys is whole again, and she cares nothing for the chill in the air. Everywhere her hands or her uniform meets with black scales, she is warm.

The next flap of dark wings stirs at the mists, and when the shadow of a dragon emerges in the sky above the battle, Dany exhales against Drogon's neck in exultation, the vapor from her breath clinging to her face. Below them, ants clash with stone giants, the din of the fight loud enough to meet her ears. Reaching behind her back with her arm, she strikes Drogon's right flank with the pitmaster's whip, the dragonbone handle ice-cold against her fingers.

He banks right in response, and Dany's heart flies to her throat in triumph. He has not forgotten. But for how long? When last they'd flown together, he'd only obeyed when it suited him. She can only pray he will obey her on a battlefield.

Before she can choose their point of descent, it seems Drogon has already selected where they will go. He bellows to anyone nearby as they soar lower, as though staking a claim to the entire field. For one thrilling beat, Dany isn't certain whether it is Drogon roaring, or her own voice. ]

Flee! [ she cries fiercely over the thunderclap of his wings, the urgency plain in her warning. ] Join your arms to mine, or flee! [ Several of the creatures, blinded by rage and loss, are advancing on ALASTAIR recruits. On Drogon's back, she is fearless, pitiless. She feels only freedom, and a queer sense of peace.

Whether the recruits she finds are fighting or fleeing, their pursuers will be momentarily halted by a searing curtain of black dragonfire about the face, swirling down from the sky in plumes with flickers of scarlet. The air shimmers with every breath, the heat from the fire palpable from as many as thirty feet away in any direction. ]

b. the wheels come off ♛

[ Dany has no wish to attack Ryba directly. She will not engage a goddess and risk injury to Drogon, nor will she willingly cast her hand into a fight she distrusts. A queen she is, but even the blood of the dragon knows it is not her place to topple gods. I am only a queen, and engaging water with fire will not serve. Let sorcerors and warlocks risk what they will, she tells herself, but when the winds begin to grow, the sharks come. Something sings in her blood that she must follow, though she resists.

But Drogon is bound by no such restraint, stirring to life beneath her. ]

No! [ she shouts, striking his flank with her whip. ] No! [ But dragons care nothing for gods or their attacks, and it is too late. With a leap off the edge of the cliff, they are quickly vertical, her protests dying in her throat.

By the time they reach the storm of sharks, he is gliding, staying just clear of the moving wall of teeth and fins. Dany's legs lock around his neck as he tilts his wings, flying with his belly parallel to the wall. Whenever a shark bursts free of the water, fins thrashing furiously, he breathes a plume of fire and banks away--playing.

If they come across anyone in the air, Drogon will likely not be deterred. He is in his element. ]

c. fin ♛

[ When the battle dies, so too does the day.

No, do not leave me, she wishes to plead, when the ground rises up to meet them. The snap of Drogon's wings emits lazy claps of thunder over the shore as he circles gracefully over the sand, the leather and the bones held aloft gracefully like two raised tents. The sun is setting, and thus rises the dragon's instincts: when dusk comes, he flies to his lair. In the Dothraki Sea, it had not mattered so much, because she had never strayed far from Dragonstone. But here, she will be left alone.

Her fellow recruits are milling around, some of them injured. She is no healer, to run to faces she does not know, to ask how she might help them. Here, atop Drogon's back, she is a dragon--made to burn, and to fly. She does not wish to jump down.

But he wishes to feed. Eventually, he flutters to hand claws-first atop a particularly mighty shark, which lies thrashing in its dying throes. Savagely, Drogon sinks black claws into sandpaper hide as if it were butter, parting his jaws to send out a long, terrifying roar in claim. The movement is natural for a dragon, but it seems to have sent someone else (or multiple someone elses) reeling back, startled in the growing dark. As well they should be. ]

d. wildcard! ♛

[ Need to flag her down for something? Want a team-up, but nothing cuts it? Pitch me something, and get ridiculous drama. I'll also be tagging around. ]

mikleo

[circulets]

1) NALANNI:

[ The stone golems are perhaps a bigger threat than other monsters they've encountered thus far. Luckily for whoever is near Mikleo, he has his ice magic to slow them down. While he's trying to pace himself, he's doing what he can to keep others out of danger. There's far more ahead of them to worry about.

Two - three of those stone golems are moving towards them. While slow, they're large enough for Mikleo to want to slow them down. It's rather obvious they'll hit hard.

His staff materializes out of seemingly no where, light surrounding Mikleo for a moment before he thrusts his staff forward. ]

Freeze Lancer! [ He yells out the name of his artes, shards of ice moving quickly towards the golem. It's not enough to slow them down too much, but it's enough to at least give whoever is with him a shot at harming them, too. ] Hurry! [ Mikleo's voice is calm, yet loud and firm. ]

2) RYBA

Get down! [ Mikleo shouts, chanting his artes in order to create a barrier to protect those in danger of her tentacles. She's huge - larger than Mikleo had ever anticipated. Yet, they knew that this battle wouldn't be an easy one.

He jumps away quickly - again and again, teeth clenched together as purple eyes watch their target. His water artes, although useful before almost seemed no good now. And yet - he still wanted to do something, anything to help aid in the fight.

That's why he was here, wasn't he? ]

We have to keep our distance from her!

3) AFTERMATH ( healing )

[ Mikleo will be available for any and all healing, should your character need it. His artes aren't a force to be reckonened with, and that includes his healing abilities. ]

4) WILDCARD

[ Come at me with anything you wanna do. o7 ]

Ahad | ota

[dailydouble]

a. Emergency services

[ Once his powers are restored, Ahad does take the equivalent of a few moments to enjoy them. It's like feeling alive and complete again, after too long missing a fundamental part of who and what he is. Anyone nearby may suddenly find themselves feeling an inexpiable urge to be passionate about something, or to display their connections to other beings openly. The urge will not last long nor force anything, however, fading as quickly as it comes.

As the battle with the golems and Ryba begins in earnest, Ahad can sometimes be found in the thick of it. There's a certain reluctance in him to attack (espeically Ryba), but he will defend himself and anyone who appears to be in mortal danger. Attacks seem to fade away to nothing as they reach him, unless he simply teleports himself and anyone in danger out of the way. Those not in mortal danger may find him watching as they're hit, unwilling to intervene unless it's to prevent severe injury or death.

Anyone he finds on his excursions that appears to be injured beyond their ability to fight any longer will find themselves whisked away to the healers. He's erring more on the side of caution here, but will never take anyone who's awake without their consent. Which does occasionally mean he'll remain with particularly stubborn individuals, quietly judging them until they pass out from bloodloss or something similar.

Anyone injured might find Ahad suddenly appearing at their side, not concerned but looking rather indifferent about the whole thing. ] Do you require healing?

b. Death is only the beginning

[ It's normal for Ahad to keep to the back of the room, in most gatherings. Which is why it might come as a surprise that he's much more involved, during the memorial. He takes the time to speak quietly and gravely with the Nalawi, especially those who wish to express their feelings about Nalanni or tell tales of her. What he does is never disruptive, as he has no desire to create more grief for the Nalawi. He does not mourn the loss of the goddesses himself, but he can understand why the Nalawi mourn their loss.

Eventually he will make his way to the back of the crowd, moving a bit away from the group. ]

I do hope it was worth it.

[ He says bitterly, with a bitter expression. ]

Magnus Bane | OPEN

[warlocks]

i. heals free of charge probably

[ While Magnus has firmly decided he is not pitching in along with everyone else in all this god-killing business, he still finds—despite himself—that he's wandering closer to the fight than he should be instead of bunkering down somewhere with a bottle of scotch.

He hates this whole thing. But he can't really let anyone bleed out to death if he can help it. Especially not when his powers are back in full force; his veins are humming, as if his magic is already eager to escape.

And sure enough, it isn't long before he stumbles across a wounded recruit, too far to make it to the healers in the tent. His expression is not surprised, but his brows still furrow in concern. ]

Hey. Let me help you.

ii. after the fight

[ It's hardly his first battle, but the end results are never pretty and Magnus finds he doesn't want to linger where the damage is worse. He disappears instead to the edge of a clearing in the middle of the island and plunks himself on a boulder. From here, he can watch the recruits and the Nalawi looking a little dazed by the whole thing. He doesn't blame them.

He's bouncing a little blue flame should anyone find him; the return of his magic means the return of his painted manicured nails and darkly lined eyes. And he's definitely ditched that awful excuse for clothing by ALISTAIR. The flame dances along the sandy ground, still damp from the storm, and it's clear he's simply pleased to have his powers back. It's the one bright side of all of this and, well. At least the Nalawi can rebuild. He supposes the outcome could have been worse.

When footsteps approach, he glances up. ]

So does this mean we get to have calamari for life?

iii. [closed to alec lightwood]

[ There's only one person he has on his mind when he's completed the wards: Alexander, whom he's lost track of in the chaos. He needs to know if Alec's runes have returned to full strength. They must, but—

Confirmation is always nice. And okay, it's also an excuse to see him. Obviously, he could just message Alec and ask.

Instead, what he does is message him and ask to meet so that he could...ask another question. Never mind. Magnus finds a place to meet on the outskirts away from the main island where the others have chosen to confront Cthulhu; he's pacing there, wearing a groove in the sand with his footsteps. ]

Motochika | OTA

[dokyuu]

I. Stone Golems

[With Nalanni gone, powers are back, and while Motochika has not missed his in the way some of the other recruits have, it's a relief to be able to swing his weapon with such ease again.

It also makes fighting giant rock monsters considerably easier than it might have been otherwise. He keeps his fire in reserve, but otherwise doesn't hold back, swings of the weapon sending bits of stone and earth flying.]

Alright, time for you to go back to where you came from.


II. Ryba

[He had hoped to never see this mass of writhing tentacles again, let alone up close and personal, but he throws himself into the battle regardless, weapon glowing red-hot and wreathed in flame, hissing steam as it comes in contact with the water.

The fight seems endless and exhausting, and as conditions start to worsen, he keeps an eye out for anyone in trouble, riding in on the anchor to pluck anyone in desperate need out of danger, or assist in their fight.]


III. Wildcard/Aftermath

[OOC: Pick your own! Feel free to pick some specific stage of the Ryba fight, or something once the fight is over! Motochika will be focusing on helping the Nalawi with their boats and fishing technology. Also there is a fight example here if you want a visual.]

sigma | mostly ota

[12inches]

A. CUE YAKKETY SAX
[ Okay, he really isn't equipped to be here in any capacity, powers or no powers. As if that ever stops him. To his credit, he's actually behaving and staying back from the heart of the action, but there's always stragglers in any big-ass fight. Like this 20 foot bastard stomping around in muddy circles just off the shore, trying to step on the loathesome little 6'3 insect darting around its earthy feet. And he might not have any magic missile bullshit, but everyone knows Ground and Rock are weak to Water. ]

[ Easy as it is to tease it around like this, it isn't quite mindless enough to be led into the water itself though, so looks like it's going to need the water brought to it. By some stroke of luck, Sigma had found a good sized bucket, and he's taking it upon himself to sprint to and from the seashore to hack away at the muddy joints of this thing's ankles. It's... a long and very stupid process, but he's Helping. In fact, by the time you show up the golem is looking pretty wobbly on its right side. ]

Hey! [ You look competent! You're also distracting!! The massive creature takes the chance to aim a swipe at the man and he's forced to duck his head, lunging out of the way and spilling a good amount of his ammunition in the process. ] Shit-- Hey! Go for the feet!

B. I'VE SEEN ENOUGH HENTAI, HAS THAT JOKE BEEN MADE ENOUGH YET
[ Alright, once the tentacles start sloshing up the banks Sigma's high tailing it as far away from shore as possible. Those things might have a limited range, but they're way faster than the giant rock dudes, way more grabby, and way more draggy towards the oceany. No likey. ]

[ Granted all the distance in the world doesn't really matter once that wind picks up. It doubles him over, skids his heels across the sand and nearly threatens to knock him back. But miraculously, he stumbles forward enough to catch hold of a creaking palm trunk and cling for dear life. If you're lucky enough to lose your balance anywhere ahead of him, he'll throw out an arm to grab a hold of you as you tumble past. Even drag you in and wrestle an arm around your shoulder if you're light enough. ]

Hold on, she can't keep this up forever, right?!

C. POOL'S CLOSED (TO RAMIR/JASON)
[ Turns out she can keep it up for a pretty long time, and his grip can't hold out forever. Eventually the raging wind gets the better of him and he's knocked back onto the shore, rolled through the stinging sand as it's kicked up around him and into the water. At least the wet sand's a little easier to find traction in and he drags himself to a halt, crouched low enough to keep the wind from catching him again. ]

[ Low enough for the next wave to crash over his head and knock him prone, perfect for dragging him back as the water recedes, riptide strong. It's a lot of progress to make up, but as the current eases to rush forward again he's able to stand. Still able to stand! The water's only waist deep, this is still manageable. This is still winnable. He wades forward: one step, two, three, once you get that far you're basically home free right? That's why it rhymes. ]

[ Of course with that optimism, his fourth promptly stays rooted in place and he stumbles, hops on his free foot as something winds rapidly around his other knee. The yelp's involuntary, a sudden panic wide in his eyes, the sensation of something brushing against your foot while you swim in the ocean times ten thousand. ]

Hey! [ He pitches forward, splashing wildly to keep his head and shoulders above the waterline as the tentacle begins to tug. There are still figures on the shore, and he makes an effort to wave. Doesn't result in much more than even more enthusiastic splashing. ] Hey! I need some help ov--

[ His head dunks under and he comes up spitting and spluttering, a split second before another tentacle curls over his shoulder and jerks. ]

Help!

D. GOODNIGHT SWEET PRINCESS
[ He'd zoned out for the aftermath of the debacle, through all the cleanup and the return to Komo. His throat still burns, his head is still pounding, his chest still aches like a motherfucker--turns out nearly drowning takes a lot more out of you than you'd think it would. What he wouldn't give to just sleep for a day or something. ]

[ That wouldn't do her justice though. ]

[ Even though sitting among a crowd of people after totally upending their entire religion and way of life is probably compounding the pain in his chest, there doesn't seem to be any real ill will floating around... Almost makes it more awkward, but he's grateful for the quiet. Shoulders hunched, elbows propped on knees, probably a sloppy pose for a memorial, but keeping his head bowed made things feel at least a little better. Physically and emotionally. ]

Hard to believe they just die like anything else, huh...

[ Gods, that is. He doesn't sound at all wracked in any sort of belief department, he'd just... Who's he kidding, he didn't know what he'd been expecting. This is all way over his head. ]

E. ANY WAY YOU WANT IT
[ Obligatory wildcard. Want to do something in the days afterward? Let's do it. ]

fairy king harlequin | ota

[agrizzlysin]

a. a storm rises

[King doesn't like what's about to happen to Nalanni, but he hasn't once protested this outcome either. He stands, gaze trained in the direction of the fallen goddess. Armed with only a pillow, King can do nothing but wait.

Then, suddenly, his senses return to him. In a flurry of power, he can feel the last vestiges of Nalanni fade just as the island begins to rock. With Nalanni's presence gone, several chaotic new powers shock his senses. One of them is directly beneath his feet. Well honed reflexes are dull after months of neglect, and King isn't fast enough to pull away. Tremors send him tumbling flat on his ass as the ground beneath him rises five, six, seven meters into the air. He can't help but stare down in awe.

The fairy king is now perched atop the shoulder of a giant rock golem, and that is absolutely a giant rock fist heading straight for him.]

b. the eye in the storm

[A heavy, medieval spear darts through Ryba's hectic storm like a bumblebee, zig-zagging to avoid the strongest winds. Balancing atop the spear is the soaked form of King. He desperately searches the waves for anyone in danger, anyone who can't fight back against the harsh winds. The only thing keeping King's light body attached to his weapon is his shivering, white-knuckled grip, but for now, he can't and won't let go. There are more important things at stake here than his steadily dropping body temperature and battered consciousness, including but not limited to making sure not one of these battle-crazy idiots dies.]

c. a dying storm

She showed she cared. That's more than can be said of some gods.

[The words are uttered to no one in particular.

Though King is once again able to fly, his feet are planted firmly on the ground as the Nalawi perform the memorial for their goddess. He also seems to be avoiding the Nalawi themselves, remaining on the edges of the crowds and keeping his head down. He's here, he's present at the goddess' funeral, to be polite, but doing anything else, even apologizing, feels like it would be an insult.

With a sigh, he turns to leave partway through the proceedings.]

[stonebird]

( Left Behind )

(She isn't a soldier or a warrior of any caliber nor does she possess some courageous beast that can do the fighting for her. No, Alayne is as ordinary as you can get for a young woman and she knows her place is either in prayer or in making preparations for the warriors who will return.)

Clean water, bandages... (Biting her lip, she makes herself a list, tucking it into her pocket once the ink is dry. How many deaths will there be? Images of the Blackwater fill her mind and she can almost smell the smoke and hear the screams. Every battle has casualties. She hasn't asked what becomes of those who die and she isn't certain she wants to know.

Thus she keeps herself occupied, moving about with a confidence that is only a mask.)

( Memorial )

(Alayne has no attachment to the goddess Nalanni, but she can understand the hopelessness those who serve her feel. Religion has failed her - no, religion failed Sansa Stark. Alayne still believes in the Seven Gods, doesn't she? Her lips twist bitterly and she bows her head to hide her expression.

She must be comforting. Understanding. She cannot tell them this was inevitable. She cannot tell them that the gods will fail them all eventually.

Setting aside her misgivings, she gathers one of the grieving Nalawi into her arms, offering her shoulder to dry their tears.)

We all must pass. She will be waiting for you when your time comes.

( Remaining Time )

(Alayne sets herself to teaching the Nalawi all she can during the next days. She can be found flitting from place to place, sometimes holding yarn for knitting or food for cooking. There will also be times that she will be sitting quietly with a group of Nalawi around her as she teaches them how to read or write.

What ever she can teach them in their short time together, surely it will do them some good. They need a new focus. They need to live for themselves.)