EVENT ★ COWBOYS VS. ALIENS

[futurologists]

STATE OF THE PLANET Efforts in convincing the Qorral to stop drilling have been tentatively successful. Longterm solutions have been brought to them and, perhaps most importantly for the immediate, the fracking fields have been destroyed. The entire field has collapsed in on itself, taking mining equipment with it and creating a barren wasteland. In effect, the Qorral can no longer drill for argecite here, which means they will be leaving earlier than expected now that there is no use for the mining colony. It also means that the planet has been saved from being hollowed out completely. On the other hand, attempts at dealing with the Deemers have been a little shaky. By now, it's known that Miz Poppy is host to the Mother, the queen of this Taraxa hive. She remains elusive, slipping through the fingers of any who manage to find or capture her. Meanwhile, the infested Qorral have been dealt with in many ways: some opting for wholesale slaughter, some hoping to extract the Taraxa in the field, and some sending both extracted Taraxa and infested hosts back to Oska to be examined. As varied as the Deemer solutions have been, they have all resulted in the Deemer population being decimated. The numbers have dwindled as their camps are hunted down by ALASTAIR recruits, and attacks on the town of Perdition's Rest halt. But the Mother is still out there and free, and that's a problem . . . THE INVASION (DAY 1) In the morning, the ships come. Visible from the ground are massive spaceships in the upper atmosphere, gently drifting clouds sometimes blocking them from view. The Qorral don't recognize the ships; they're neither from their homeworld nor from any species they know, friendly or otherwise. For a few hours, the ships just hang in space like looming, silent buzzards, waiting. And then -- sparkling, metal objects start falling to the planet. It's difficult to tell what they are, as their scale is minuscule compared to the gigantic warships above, and their descent is strangely beautiful. But as the objects come closer to the surface, the details become clear: individual spacecraft. They're gleaming in gold and white metal, a triangle sigil painted on the sides, and cannons mounted on the bottom. These are Zymandis fighter craft. And they are not here to make nice. The fighter craft swoop down close and send a barrage of lasers down on Perdition's Rest, causing the local Qorral to scatter. But their fear doesn't last long: many immediately take up arms to fire back at the ships when they're low enough, including Sheriff Holladay, who shouts commands to anyone who will listen, Qorral and ALASTAIR alike: take cover, give 'em hell, and for sun's sake, don't be a hero. (Those who have been officially deputized may access the sheriff's armory, which includes all sorts of fun toys of the shooty variety.) But some Qorral have something else in mind. A small pack of locals rides out to the farm of Amos Zephyr -- and if you're suspicious enough to follow, it'll pay off. Beneath Zephyr's farm is a hidden defense platform: earth slowly moves aside as a metal platform raises up, home to mounted anti-aircraft cannons and fighter craft of their own. The Qorral fighter craft are intuitively designed, and the Qorral will also quickly give any curious ALASTAIR recruit a run-down on how to operate them. They're short-handed since so many of their number joined the Deemers, so they're very eager to allow anyone to try their hand at flying the two-man ships, which have their own mounted cannons and, of course, escape parachutes. The fighter craft are not meant for high altitudes, though, so your dreams of space travel will have to wait for another time. Those who do not wish to take flight and aren't comfortable with projectile weapons may find luck searching the desert for prey: namely, Taraxa agents attempting to flee in Zymandis escape pods. It seems as though the fighter craft are a distraction from the real goal of Zymandis helping its agents flee the planet. The Zymandis agents who are not Taraxa are variously humanoid, all equipped with laser weapons (spears, rifles, whips) that they will not hesitate to use against any who interrupt their attempts at escape. For those who aren't battle inclined, there are civilians who need to be ushered to safety, and quick repairs to weapons, equipment, horses, or even the Qorral fighter craft will be needed. This fight is going to be a long one. THE AFTERMATH (DAY 2) It's peaceful now. The Zymandis warships have fled into space with the surviving Taraxa agents in tow, the Mother presumably among them. The combined efforts of team Audentes and the Perdition's Rest colonists have successfully staved off the attack. The destruction wrought by Zymandis (and, perhaps, by overeager recruits themselves) is visible across the planet: deep fissures and scars from the laser cannons, fighter craft wreckage from both sides, burned buildings and trees, perhaps a fire still raging in the scrub grass somewhere. The Qorral aren't quite sure what that was all about, but they're more concerned with ALASTAIR's efforts in helping than in pointing fingers. Q-65 is no longer a suitable home, so the locals begin to pack up in preparation for the arrival of their homeworld's ships in the next few days. An old man puts his chess pieces away; a little girl clutches her robot pony doll, unwilling to put it in her suitcase; the stable owner and the blacksmith stand close together and talk in hushed, affectionate tones. Sheriff Holladay lets her deputies know they've served the colony well. It's bittersweet, but the Qorral always knew this settlement was never permanent. The mission complete, Audentes should expect to arrive back at Oska shortly. Use the time to say goodbye and finish up your business. Or, if you'd like, drink some of the booze that someone just found in the cellar beneath the burned-out saloon. It doesn't keep during interstellar travel, and no one will begrudge you a little celebration. OOC NOTES This log wraps up the Perdition's Rest mission! The log will last two IC days, after which characters will immediately return to Oska via dimensional rift (on 21 December in OOC time). Mission epilogue details will go up at a later date, but for now, Audentes can rest easy knowing that the mission has been a success. We will be posting an OOC post-mission assessment on 14 December so we can discuss how the mission went and talk about the state of the game in general. There is a new bounty on the Oska Bounty Board! Perdition's Rest bounties remain open until 21 December, at which point you will no longer be able to turn them in. You can also request bounty missions at any time. Please direct all questions pertaining to the mission to the dossier page to keep questions and responses in one place for easy player reference. General game questions should be directed to the FAQ. To submit a player plot or future mission idea, please go to the Suggestions post.

Comments

Twisted Fate

[fateality]

[will include a variety of top levels open and closed, but also consider this an invitation to wild card it and tag with your own prompt should you like! if you want me to make you a prompt, just let me know and i'd be happy to do so.]

♦ make like a leaf | Knock Out

[fateality]

[On the first day, the sight of the ships in the skies didn't appear to be a good omen. Not by a long shot. His money -- and plenty of it, earned from the Qorral -- was on it being this mysterious Zymandis group.

And so it is. The mess that follows? Well, it kicks up old instincts: in essence, none of this has got to do with him, not really. Technically they succeeded in their mission, and he doesn't owe to do anything more than how much he's done already. Even back in the old days, anything akin to politics or regions butting heads, Twisted Fate never got himself involved in any of that.

Not going to start now, he tells himself.

Koltira's off fighting, led away by his sense of honor to stay and defend. He's strong, stronger than anyone Twisted Fate has witnessed; he'll live, and Fate will see him at the end of this. So, that means getting everything of his together, and making a run for it.

He's elusive. Twisted Fate gets by enough of anyone to sneak past and remain undetected.

But there's no mistaking that red vehicle that he almost runs into; Fate has enough of a mind to stop himself, then grins sharply.]

Doc, you're hell of a sight for sore eyes. Any chance you got room for one more?

urahara kisuke

[predomination]

[I will have separate Day One and Day Two top-levels, as well as some closed prompts. If anyone wants anything specific, they can PM this journal or catch me on plurk at quasigina.]

DAY ONE| IT BEGINS | OTA | I keep having this brainstorm about twelve times a day

[predomination]

[when it begins, Urahara's in the Science Lair, dozing at a workbench. even underground, the sound of explosions is difficult to miss and he comes to believing it to be something going on with the other Audentes.

he's more or less just annoyed when he and whatever smattering of people happen to be working their way out of the lair and out into the desert, but that annoyance fades instantly when he sees what's going on.

he had a feeling when Elias said Miz Poppy escaped that this was inevitable, but he had hoped that perhaps Zymandis would have written it off as a loss and abandoned her and her breathern. It was a small hope, and one he was prepared to see falter, but even so it's always frustrating to have to change your tactics to accomodate a new scenario.

the bunker is situated just far enough that they're not in the direct path of the laser fire (at the moment), but close enough that they can see the town being attacked. choices will have to be made- whether to fight or go back underground or retreat elsewhere. for now, Urahara is trying to sort out just which he wants to do.]

Peridot

[slapfight]

[For all your closed prompt and open prompt needs. Wildcard at will. If anyone wants anything specific and would like me to start it, PM this journal or catch me on plurk at quasigina.]

DAY ONE | CLOSED TO AANG | the further on the edge- the hotter the intensity

[slapfight]

[this is not a flawless Peri-plan.

she knows it. anyone who looks at this situation would know it. but Peridot is not overly burdened with common sense, and when it comes down to it, there's not many people she can trust (or find) to be her co-pilot.

and she wants to be on one of those fighters. needs it, actually.

which is why she's dragging Aang by the hand towards the farm and the beautiful fighter ships waiting for her.] Just trust me. It'll be fine.

anakin skywalker ( semi-open. )

[apoptotic]

( muffled sounds of benny the spaceman yelling about spaceships in the distance

individual prompts below; pm if you'd like me to write you a specific starter ♥ )

( peter. )

[apoptotic]

Coming around.

[ the fighter craft cuts left, rising and falling again in a tightly controlled arc. anakin works the controls as if the ship were an extension of him — which, in many ways, it is. months and months he has been grounded. months and months the closest he has come to tasting the thrill of flight has been through the use of sims. amazingly convincing sims to be sure.

but this…this is as it should be. aboard a fighter craft, taking on a clear enemy. the peace he struggled for so long came to him easily the minute he slipped into the pilot’s seat.

through the glass head of them, friendly and enemy ships alike flock and dive like birds. anakin picks one, and it has already fallen. all that remains is playing out the steps to that. ]

Stand by, Peter. I’ll line up the shot for you.

keith

[secondnature]

be my wingman: closed to Lance

[Keith's first thought when he saw the ships roll in was that they were in a lot of trouble. In fact, it was probably too much trouble, but he ended up following the right path with Lance to find more weapons and, as it turns out, ships. They're even ships that can be piloted. His mood lifts considerably—heck, most people would wonder (perhaps correctly) whether he had been this happy in all his time with Audentes. (He hasn't been.)

Unsurprisingly, Keith doesn't wait around to ask for instructions before he grabs Lance and drags him to the nearest ship. It's not that Keith means to make Lance feel bad, but he does jump into the pilot seat without asking which one he should take. He relaxes as he drags his paladin armor helmet over his head.]

Let's show those jerks what they've got coming to them.

[Though this is probably the time where Lance might, rightfully, pitch a fit at being dragged into playing gunner for Keith.

Sorry, Lance. Impulses are impulses. To say Keith hasn't thought too hard since seeing those ships would be an understatement.]

aftermath: open to all

[This mission has been hard on Keith. He doesn't know how he got so involved with a lot of stuff, but he's really glad that most of his most paranoid suspicions haven't ended up being proven correctly. The Qorral don't seem overly concerned with where they're going to find more argecite, and he imagines that Audentes might be helping, too. That makes it easier to take a load off in the final few hours on this planet.

Keith climbs up on to the top of one of the buildings in ... okay shape and sits on the edge with his legs hanging over the side. He has a cowboy hat on—the one he got with Zenyatta a little while back. He hasn't worn it as much as he's needed, in part because a lot of his busy tasks have involved needing some harder head coverage. (He has a hard time backing down from a fight.)

Even though it might not be easy to make out his face under the brim of the hat, he looks ... remarkably relaxed. For Keith. So, he can probably have someone hit a nerve easily, but right now, as he watches the various going-ons, he doesn't seem like the same temperamental kid. That might last for a little while, at least.]

[competing]

[ it wasn't hard to miss the excitement and relief on keith's face, mostly because lance was certain the very same emotions were mirrored on his own. in fact, there had actually been a moment, upon finding the ships, when both boys just stopped and looked back at each other. nearly shared a moment, if you even want to call it that, over the sheer luck of it all.

of course, that unbridled joy is short-lived as lance gets closer to one of the ships, realizing its make really didn't allow for more than one pilot... and that merely taking two ships of their own would be useless if they didn't have another manning the cannons. his expression flattens out a little, seeing keith make a beeline right for the pilot's seat. ]

Uh, [ is all he says at first, watching keith get comfy. he gestures towards the gunner's seat. he can't even rightfully call himself a co-pilot at this rate! ] Why are you piloting?

Sieglinde Sullivan ⚝ OTA

[grunehexe]

01 ⚝ DAY ONE: BARRIER SET-UP ⚝ OTA

[There was a spell Sieglinde had been practicing ever since the battle in Nalawi, studying in her sick bed after she rebroke her feet and continuing to practice whenever she had the time. The one that warlock had done so easily on that beach, that would ward a space and prevent anyone from entering who was not "invited". It's the first thing that comes to her mind when the attacks start. Get somewhere centrally located. Set up the ward.]

Out of the way, please! Now- and do not scuff my runes!

[And now there's a tiny witch barking orders at you, a "wand" of sorts capped with a chalk tip in her hand and a half-completed magic circle traced into the dirt around the building.]

02 ⚝ DAY ONE: HEALING ⚝ OTA

[As long as there are injured coming in, Sieglinde is at the makeshift medical center to heal them. Those who can do with bandages, potions, and stitches will need to make do with that at first, because they have a few healers now, but they aren't supermen, and magic runs out eventually. Worse wounds, mortal wounds, get priority for that.

If you make your way there under your own power, or with help, Sieglinde still clears a place hastily for you, quickly purifying her hands.]

Here, quick now. Let me see what the matter is-

03 ⚝ DAY TWO: "CELEBRATION" ⚝ OTA

[After all the work done the previous day, Sieglinde didn't actually wake up until past lunch, and after stuffing her face, had gone right back to sleep. Once she finally woke up a second time she managed to get out of bed and get a drink... and then another drink, and another drink...

Of what had been found beneath the burnt out saloon.

Honestly, she didn't even mind. It was better stuff than they'd served the first night, and she was tired, both physically and mentally, and an escape of such a humble magnitude seemed perfectly acceptable after the chaos of the previous day.

You can find Sieglinde sprawled out flat on her back out in the dirt in the makeshift camp, rear-length hair spread out loose like an inky spill over the ground and an empty bottle in her hand, sighing dramatically up at the... sky?]

for Olivia

[grunehexe]

[Most of the qorral had been evacuated, and at least that put a damper on the amount of non-combatants injured, but with the debris, the battle, the... the ships, whatever those were, there's still plenty of injured coming through their makeshift center. Thankfully not attacks, since she'd finally managed success with her ward spell, but-]

Olivia, how are you holding up?

[Sieglinde still takes a moment to ask, turning to the older woman beside her during a brief break between patients, peeling off a bloody glove to pin back a long strand of her hair that had come undone from her braid and fallen into her face, adjusting apron and skirts before she moved automatically to arrange her remaining potions and bandages.]

Sonia Nevermind 💥 ota + closed

[assent]

[ I'm adding separate OTA threads plus closed threads. Hit me up at serves if you want to figure something out! As a heads up from Friday onwards I have exams and will be in marking hell, but I still will try and be quick at getting back to tags!

I'll also note spoilers in the subject lines if things come up. ]

( OTA ) DAY ONE ( A ) You're the war that I wage

[assent]

[ She's received something new recently that will come in handy when the large spaceships turn up and start wrecking havoc. Thankfully, they do hover for a while, giving her time to tie her hair in a braid so it doesn't end up tangled or caught anywhere midfight. It's done with the ribbon that's usually around the top of her head, so today it's ended up being the case that it's almost down to her ankles instead when she steps outside because it isn't up in a ponytail as well.

She's in her usual clothes today though, maybe it way more comfortable to move about. She lifts up her gun and runs out into the town, cautious that she doesn't run into the town without checking it's clear first. Thankfully the attacks haven't started yet. ]

I am sorry to bother you... however, what do you think they are her--? [ She doesn't get to finish though, as whoever she's asking is getting pushed aside towards a building when the first blast starts, trying to get clear of the shot as the barage of attacks begin. ]

lucina ( ota + closed prompts )

[heritors]

( & as always! drop a comment, blank or otherwise, if you want me to write you a starter. otherwise, prompts will be down below! )

for lancer.

[heritors]

[ Lucina has never been one for airborne battles — she's always had Gerome and Cynthia by her side, and her father fought on the ground, did he not? She's the most at ease ( for a battlefield... ) when her two feet are on the ground. Besides, the sky isn't filled with wyverns or pegasi, for once; it's strange in itself, to be fighting alongside ( and against ) weapons that she's never seen before.

It's not like she'll allow that to deter her, though. she's made it through worse situations with bleaker prospects. She opens her mouth to bark out: ] Lancer! [ Before she runs after a Zymandis agent. Some part of her is tired of the violence, wishing she didn't have to draw her sword to strike down another; but there are people that still need to be protected, and for that she'll fight.

This time, she stands between a Qorral man and the said agent, using her sword as a shield against the laser whip he lashes. It wraps around of the blade of the Falchion — and like that, they're locked in a stalemate. ]

Sakura Kinomoto l Cardcaptor Sakura

[keystaff]

Invasion:

A:

[She'll initially start things off by wanting to ensure the civilians get out safely, if they are younger or not up to fighting themselves. For Sakura, this means activating the Shield card and leading them in small numbers at a time out of harms way. Though it's hard exactly to figure where is 'safe' with this chaos. With flying air/space craft involved.

Still, she does her best. She'll turn to the nearest recruit, before heading with another group.]

Do you want to take this group next? Or should I come back for you once I get this group somewhere safe?

B:

[Okay, so using the Fly Card isn't making her quite as protected as being in an actual aircraft. But Sakura figures it better to leave them to others who can't use magic or the like to fly the way she can.

So she might be looking and perhaps feeling a bit more exposed in comparison, even with Shield activated in a bubble like barrier around her. She doesn't have weapons, not guns or the like in the traditional sense. Rather than figuring her bow, she is putting the Cards to use, using Windy to throw some off course, or the restrain them while she might then have a chance to give her fellow recruits a chance to get a hit in or talk to them about what to do next.

Others are free to wonder what the heck she is doing, be in awe at the use of her Cards.]

C:

[Healing.

Not something she could do, with the Cards. But thanks to ALASTAIR, she can. And she's taking advantage of it, for any who get injured in the chaos of all of this. She won't be working alone, but she'll do her best, given her determination, stubbornness to help, and her high level healing magic on offer.]

Aftermath:

[Sakura won't be drinking alcohol, but she will still enjoy the time to relax and catch their breath, as it were, after everything. Simply taking it in and joining in the 'victory' as it were. Bittersweet as it is, as she feeds off of the relief of everyone gathered.

Or she can be found wanting to assist the locals need a hand in their packing, once she has sorted her own things being gathered together, for the most part.]

A!

[assent]

[ The whole thing has been a mess since the ships above started the attack, but somehow some of the tension has left her that had built up while waiting for something to happen. She's in her clothes from home which is more like a school uniform than anything else, simply because her uniform had been drying at the time.

It also means that when she turns to look at Sakura, she probably only stands out because her appearance rather than anything else.

She also didn't realise that some of the people stuck with Audentes were this young. ]

I-- [ Her hands lower her gun in surprise, before she gives Sakura an apologetic smile. ] --I will be alright, please worry about them instead. I can keep the rest off your back in the meantime.

miles upvote.

[upshur]

[ open and closed prompts, as needed. hmu at forzare for all your needs and desires. ]

DAY ONE ( OPEN ).

[upshur]

[ Miles skips town, when the alien warships descend upon them. Intuitive controls or not, there is not an inch of his being that wants to be near the dogfights, nor pulled into one of the spaceships in need of a gunner. There are other things to attend to, and they are decidedly not the sort of thing that requires a journalist's touch - so, he goes as something other than a journalist.

The anger inside of him has been building for some time now. Joining up with the Audentes team had been a distraction from it, for a little while. From rotten memories, resentment and a need for vengeance. But the ache in his mind, the crawling black behind his eyes and the static crackling in his bones ( alive, hungry ) was asking for redress. A new bullet hole and an act of violence against someone who had not deserved it in the least has left him sour, blistering hot with rage and the fleeing Taraxa are bearing the brunt of that wrath.

By the time they begin shooting, he's behind cover. Moments later, the sound of static and madness fills the air, and a hulking, man-shaped monstrosity crawls forth from somewhere beneath his skin. It has little other purpose than violence, and sets to brutalizing the operatives however it pleased. There is at least one already laid out, either unconscious or dead, and it doesn't seem like Miles has any intention ( or ability ) to recall the THING that's tethered to his physical form. FREAKY SHIT, AUDENTES. FREAKY, VIOLENT SHIT. ]

Saitama | OTA

[heroforhobby]

A: Fighting (in the Sky)
[Saitama isn't a deputy so has no access to weapons, and he doesn't even know how to drive, let alone pilot a flying thing.

But, fortunately, he doesn't need any of those things.

He can't fly, but he possesses an incredible vertical leap and relatively good aim. He can just spot an enemy ship in flight and take off like a bullet to pierce right through it.

Sometimes it was easier to land on a passing ship to get his bearings or to launch off to destroy another spaceship, and yours happens to be the one he currently lands on. He tries to land on the body, but this time, he hits your viewport and waves at you, all casual-like. Will you risk trying to let him in, or maybe there's a way to talk to him from inside.]


B: Fighting (on the Ground)
[There's a lot going on right now. Saitama hasn't really experienced an all out battle like this, really. He's faced monsters that have swarmed him, but the focus was almost always on him, so he didn't have far to go. Right now, however, the enemy is just all over the place and there's so many people that need rescuing, or need a helping hand. He's going from one place to another, helping as many people as he can.

He steps in front of you as a laser blast is about to hit you, and easily knocks the fleeing enemy out, (still not quite willing to kill people that didn't appear to go full monster, he'll let the Qorral deal with them), and he turns toward you, cape all torn up and flapping in the air like such a cool hero, and he asks:]

Need some help?

[Will you say yes? Will you be offended and tell him off? Or do you want to team up for some fighting shenanigans? He'll even carry you to the sky if you need that assistance to kick some butt.

Let's just do this, bro.]


C: Aftermath
[He's not big on celebrations or big get togethers, but he has a hard time saying no to free things.

He can be found sitting in the outskirts of the get-together, nursing a cup of whatever booze was found, being quiet as a tomb. Is he being contemplative about the past events? Considering all the dark avenues humanity can go down?

Or is he thinking about how much he wants udon and to read a comic?

Probably the latter...But his face expression looks like the former.]


D: Wildcard
[If you want a starter more specific to you let me know and I'll write one up, or write your own if you're inspired! If you want to run an idea by me, PM this journal or hit me up on plurk.]

C

[moneyman]

[ he's not exactly a social butterfly, either, despite being friendly enough—aaand maybe that's why he's a little more likely to notice people who are just kind of hovering on the outer edges of the crowd. this guy kinda looks like he doesn't want to be bothered, though, so maybe he'll just leave him alone—

...actually, wait, why does that dude look familiar? he doesn't know any bald guys. he did talk to someone once on the network who was saying all his hair fell out, though... oh. oh. shit.

yeah, never mind, he's heading over there. ]

Heeey, you're Saitama, right?

[ god, he hopes so. this is going to be awkward as hell if not. ]

loki

[mistruths]

a - high flying (sort of)
[ the fighter crafts are nothing like what he's seen before, not in all the Realms, but neither are they too different; it seems, despite the differences in worlds, there are some things that shall always remain the same. even in technology.

loki can be found prowling around some of the grounded aircraft, curious and tempted... ]

b - fighting dirty (...sort of)
[ it wasn't as though he'd planned to get involved. in fact, he'd actively tried to avoid getting involved with the dilemma they had been presented with, despite being very aware that, perhaps, that might not have been the best strategy. For, well. Anything.

he doesn't particularly care about saving or protecting his fellow Audentes or the locals, but when it's all said and done--for all that he prefers finding his way out of conflict without unnecessary bloodshed--there's still something terribly relaxing and reassuring about a good fight.

perhaps you came across him in the middle of battle, perhaps he stepped in between you (or a local) and an enemy. regardless, his magic and knives whirl in equal measure as he fights hard and mercilessly.]

c - wildcard
(( yeah idk lmk if you want something different or just make something up \o/ ))

A

[expatriates]

If you're not going to help, you could at least stay out of our way.

[ Natasha steps around him with the grace and purpose of a woman on a mission, climbing the side of one of the very aircraft he's inspecting, a flight suit pulled over her ALASTAIR uniform. She scales the side of the fighter like it's not the first time she's done this. (It is. And these ships are a far cry from anything SHIELD developed.) ]

Haise Sasaki | Tokyo Ghoul:re

[ex_adept136]

I. Bringing a Sword to a Gun Fight
[Haise has tossed references to science fiction around rather liberally during this particular mission. So much of what they've encountered feels as though it belongs on a page instead of in reality, and he supposes that's his narrow little worldview. Once spaceships start dropping from the sky to fire on them, however, he finds that he's bandied about the references to scifi a little too quickly.

Spaceships take the cake.

He's reluctant to follow fleeing Qorral — or he assumes they're fleeing — and instead follows those who seem to be running toward escape pods. Despite the fact that his world lacks for these things, at least works of fiction have prepared him to identify what is ostensibly escape craft, and it's not hard for Haise to suppose that he's dealing with Zymandis agents.

It helps that they open fire on him when he draws nearer, and he's quick to close distance, the red blade of his quinque flickering dully in the morning light. Bullets that hit him drop to the sand as useless, warped lumps and rather than strike lethal blows, he knocks his attackers out instead.

One might wonder why he bothers with this, and furthermore, with pausing to remove their belts and use these to bind their wrists, but...here he is, doing just that]

II. Classic Shounen Trope: closed to Giovanni
[While Haise is making his rounds apprehending Zymandis operatives, he eventually drifts close enough to the Qorral base to catch their attention. From there he's unceremoniously ushered toward the nearest craft, cajoled into joining forces with them because they're apparently shorthanded and his type has a hell of a time saying no. Nevermind the fact that Haise has never so much as driven a car; they're expecting him to man a spacecraft.

His bewildered staring at the interior of the ship isn't at all helped by the sight of its current occupant, another ALASTAIR recruit he knows by now. It's still a marvel to him just how long it took to actually learn the other man's name, if only because he'd never bothered to provide it.

Their last exchange had come with some weighty subject matter, the sort of thing that Haise imagines Giovanni won't want to acknowledge now, so the silence is decidedly heavy for a good collection of moments]

Guess today you've got something I don't mind you firing at.

[When in doubt, defuse the situation with humor, right...?]

III. The Dust Settles
[The day after the Zymandis attack, Haise spends some time just wandering the area surrounding the Perdition's Rest settlement. Although they've saved the world from a complete collapse, what remains isn't exactly in good stead, the planet a ruined husk that's already begun to collapse in upon itself. The practical part of him knows that they'd come here too late to prevent the greater portion of the damage, but the rest of him can't get over the sense of loss.

His thoughts drift back to Nalawi, another world saved at cost. The more he strives not to think about it, the more he finds these thoughts unavoidable, and the more he wanders in an attempt to clear his head. This sort of state isn't one he particularly likes showing to others, and so he avoids the town proper.

Eventually he comes to settle atop an upended spacecraft in the middle of a barren field, perched at what seems a high and precarious point. He leans back against the inert engines of the dead ship, staring up at skies that were once teeming with Zymandis invaders.

Was this really any better than his first mission, in the end?]

IV. Wildcard
[Toss anything at all at me!]

I

[predomination]

[he had his time in the "trenches" of the town, trying to protect fleeing civilians, but he knows where his talents are best used, and so here he is. he only stopped to observe Haise's fight, curious to get a close-up look at how he approaches fights, and he's... well, not surprised at the mercy, but it does sober him somewhat considering he hasn't been showing much himself.

Benihime's songs don't speak of mercy- they speak of spilled blood and the thrill of a good fight. right now, she's practically humming, while he's stuck in the moments between fights where he has more control, but knows she has his heart. he can be calculating all he wants, but the second danger rears its head, he'll be back to that coolly impassive fighter.

he shoulders Benihime, her tassels brushing against his chest, as he steps out from his hiding place, speaking flippantly.] Sasaki-san! Strange weather we're having, isn't it? [he stops just in front of the bound Zymandis agents, voice lowering a bit as he drops the act.] What're you planning on doing with them?

rhys | ota

[dbag]

[ prompts will go below. consider this a wildcard prompt, give me anything you want! pm me or pp me at regnant if you want a custom starter. ]

OPEN | day one

[dbag]

[ Rhys doesn't have a gun, and even if he knew how to pilot a fighter jet, nobody in their right mind would let him. He's not at all a fighter, so he's not fighting. He does, however, have his stun baton and shitty attack robot with him for protection; he's a delicate flower, and he needs a bodyguard at all times. He skips town, because hanging out and getting shot at by lasers isn't his idea of fun, even if the lasers are sort of cool. It's not totally safe out here, and he's already run into one Taraxa, but he does have the advantage of Dumpy flying around (even if he's the dumbest robot in the world and keeps almost hitting him in the face), so he feels relatively good about his survival chances.

He pokes at the stunned Taraxa agent with his foot, trying to figure out what to do with it before it regains consciousness. After reaching down, grabbing its arm, and futilely attempting to drag it off, he lets it drop. He's not sure how much time he actually has, but it seems wise to do something to it; he stares down at its body uselessly for a moment, and when he sees a figure in the distance, he waves his hands. ] Hey! You!

( closed to fiona )

[racking]

[ At a time like this, excitement is completely out of place. But Shiro is excited; flying is still one of the only things that comes naturally to him and getting a chance to use that skill is thrilling. Shiro only feels a little guilty over enjoying something in the midst of such a high stakes moment.

He misses the Black Lion. As complicated as that particular relationship was, Shiro can at least acknowledge that he misses his lion without considering the tangled mess of the last battle with Zarkon. Besides, they're in the air. He can't afford the split in focus. ]

Are you ready? [ He calls back to Fiona, considerate even as he contemplates reckless flight patterns. ] I want to try picking off a few at the edges before we get into the middle of it.

[ Give them both time to acclimate before they plunged directly into dangerous shit, so to speak. ]

[cachemoney]

[Fiona has only been in flight once, in a jury-rigged rocketship that nobody even knew was going to work. So, comparatively, this is probably going to go a little better. A tiny bit safer. Maybe.

At least Shiro is at the (proverbial) wheel and she gets the easy part. Even if flying around is totally foreign to her, she knows how to shoot the hell out of things, no problem.]

Roger! [she calls back, because that sounds like a thing she's supposed to say.] Just get us in there, flyboy; I'll take care of the rest.

Motochika Chosokabe | OTA

[dokyuu]

Day 1

I [When some of the Qorral form up and start riding out of town, Motochika decided to follow. It was impossible to really tell friend from foe, after all, and just letting them go off seems like a bad idea. Before he 'borrows' one of the mechanical horses for himself, though, he calls out, trying to round up a few more ALASTAIR recruits within earshot, just in case these guys are up to no good.]

II [As it turns out, following the Qorral just leads him to where all the really good toys are. And they're more willing to put up with his curiosity than they were back with the train, so eventually he finds himself standing in front of one of the Qorral fighter craft, a perhaps slightly worrying grin on his face as he looks the ship over.]

Hey, this thing seats two. Anyone else wanna go for a ride?


Day 2

III [With the fighting over, there's not much left to do but wait to go back to Oska, and while Motochika is a little worse for the wear (it turns out that pirates with no depth perception or flying experience don't make for the best fighter pilots) he's in a good mood despite a few injuries, especially since he's rescued a bottle or two from the remains of the saloon, which he's more than willing to share.]

IV [Wildcard, or PM me and I can write something else up.]

III

[sengetsu]

[Kojuro has a few scrapes of his own, but thankfully no serious injuries from the fight the day before. He's just glad all of this is over - all of their missions have had danger, but this one was particularly fraught.

He spots both the pirate and the alcohol, and gives a quick wave of greeting]

Sharing any of that?

jasper

[hardnosed]

[ both ota and closed prompts go here! and feel free to wildcard it, or contact me here or at shiteous and we can hash a thread out. ]

CLOSED TO RAMIR | day one

[hardnosed]

[ Jasper has been isolating herself from the beginning of this mission. She watches the invading ships fire on Perdition's Rest from a distance, silently, and watches the posse of Qorral leaving, clearly a group with a destination in mind. She follows them.

Once their destination and intent become clear, and they explain the workings of the fighter craft, she catches on quickly. Jasper would never call herself a pilot — there's a world of difference between being able to fly crafts like this one and being made for it. Fighting in close quarters is her purpose, not hanging back and picking at the enemy from the low-stakes comfort of a cockpit. But it's been a while since she's done anything but wander the desert, picking off what enemies she can find, and something about the idea of doing it with spaceships swarming and people fleeing everywhere around her is less than desirable.* Aerial combat actually seems refreshing in comparison.

Another departure from her norm: the fighter crafts seat two. She can't isolate herself while she's flying one. So she looks around and goes for virtually the first Audentes member she sees on the platform — some human she's never spoken to before, eyeing the ships — and addresses her as brusquely as possible while stomping over. ]

Hey — you. [ She moves like she's going to grab her by the forearm, but once she sees she has her attention the gesture gets aborted halfway. ] Can you fly this thing?

*it's PTSD. the something is PTSD.

koltira deathweaver | ota

[respired]

DAY ONE:

i. i will not take from you and you will not owe;

[ Koltira ain't fucking with no space ships. Interstellar travel and the requirements thereof aren't foreign to him; he has heard tales of his own wayward people and their exploits in stealing the fortress ship of the draenei. But, for all his combat proficiency, he has little experience with aerial engagements--or with guns of any kind.

What he does have is a giant, enchanted sword and plenty of rage left to burn. As the ships barrage the town, Koltira watches intently, considering what to do. He also notices the ground agents trying to usher along fleeing Qorral--no, not Qorral. Taraxa.

That won't do.

Koltira raises Byfrost into the air. Shadowy energy pours from the runeblade, dark purple and pulsing. Its thin tendrils sink into the sand, and the earth quakes. Ghouls and abominations begin to rise, clawing their way to their surface, howling as their claws break apart rock and soil. Once they've clambered up to their full heights--nearly eight feet, in the case of the pustule-covered aberrations--Koltira swings his sword down like a conductor in some awful orchestra. ]

There is no escape.

[ His horde of monstrosities lumbers forth, leaping for the Zymandis agents--whether they're trying to help the Taraxa escape or whether they're fleeing the wreckage of their own shot down ships. Thus, if you're caught up in this fray, you might suddenly notice an undead horror grabbing hold of your opponent--and it might not just be Koltira.

To any fellow Audentes: ]

Worry not. They won't hurt you.

[ I mean, probably. ]

ii. alone in this vision, alone and blind;

[ Eventually, Koltira's army of the dead exhausts itself; they are short-lived constructs, not meant to last for more than a few hours. But the battle continues. The ships feel endless; each time one crashes to the ground, another pops up to replace it. Koltira dodges the incoming blasts with aplomb, for the most part--he's quick and he's alert, but not even he can avoid a few grazing shots. Blood, dark and corrosive, drops from wounds on his side and back, places where the ships' searing weapons had sliced through his clothes and skin. Fresh pain throbs in his muscles, but he ignores it.

He has other problems.

Taraxa-shaped problems.

He's caught a group of Deemers trying to escape, locked all five in chains of ice. He'd been about to slay them, sword brandished, expression fierce--but he's finding it difficult to make the cut.

The Deemers stare at him, proud and defiant.

Koltira thinks of all the pain he's wrought since Audentes came to this planet. Both on these people and on the team itself. He thinks of their efforts to free the Qorral enslaved by the Taraxa slugs, how slim the hope was for the hosts to be restored. Olivia seemed the only one capable of giving them another chance at a real life, and even then they'd have to start over. Even then her efforts were not guaranteed.

Koltira's grip on Byfrost falters. He looks at the Deemers and he simply sees young Qorral. People with their lives taken, with their bodies used as puppets. It's something he relates to.

He should kill them. Hell, he's killed others of their kind already--more than a few just this morning. But somehow, in this moment, he's paralyzed.

And the ice chains are breaking. ]

DAY TWO:

iii. go tell the world that i'm still alive;

[ Koltira's in the main drag of the town, near the smoky ruins of the saloon. He's taken some of the recovered moonshine, because he's not one to ever turn down a chance for alcohol, and he's drinking as he paces the dusty street. He's already packed, having few possessions--his armor, his trinkets, his ALASTAIR uniform. Most everything else he owns, he's wearing. Rings, cowboy duds, and of course Byfrost. The sword's typically slung across his back, but right now he's driven it into the ground beside him; malevolent, gleaming darkness surrounds it, seeming to hiss in your ear if you come too close.

It's been a hell of a mission. Koltira's weighed down by everything he's done over the past few months, from the destruction of his hysteria to the most recent fight with Achilles. He'd almost lost control in that battle. Nearly taken the life of a teammate--something he never wants to do, no matter the hostility between them.

He drinks deeply, his eyes shut as the alcohol burns in his throat. It's not exactly pleasant, but it feels something like life, so he craves it nevertheless.

Koltira stares at anyone approaching him. He wonders, more than ever, what these people think of him, of the things he's done. Some of them certainly seem to have strong opinions, including those who rarely speak to him otherwise--and those who have not spoken to him at all.

It makes him wary.

He mutters against the rim of his cup. ]

We cannot leave this Light-forsaken planet soon enough.

[ He scowls at his drink. ]

Vendel'o eranu.

IV. WILDCARD:

[ If these don't suit, let me know--I can write you something specific! Drag him into a ship, help him defend his farm fam, get rescued, etc ... ]

iii.

[grunehexe]

[It really wasn't good alcohol. It was marginally better than the swill she'd bought the first night they'd come here, but... honestly, would she have to ask Lloyd to get a decent German brew? (Probably.)]

You may repeat that once more, good sir.

[It might be difficult to identify where that voice is coming from... if you are over four feet tall. Mainly because most people didn't look down all the time when they walked, and that voice came from... down. Distinctly down.

Because Sieglinde is literally on the street. ... Well, flat on her back and red-faced slightly off the street, staring up at the sky and her rear-length dark hair spread out wildly against the half-destroyed chair she must have originally been sitting in.

As if she had just spit out great wisdom, Sieglinde slowly nods to herself, lifting her mostly empty glass in a useless toast, spilling a bit of her drink on her stained apron.]

Hanzo Shimada

[whatshimadayou]

[prompts to follow. please let me know if you'd like a custom prompt, or feel free to wild card me and tag me with your own!]

day 1

[whatshimadayou]

[For him, Hanzo doesn't feel that his skills would be best to an air battle. He is trained for battle with men on the ground. He is no fighter pilot. Undoubtedly, there are others that can fill that need.

Instead, the dragon will fight on the ground, and devour those in his way.

Hanzo has been perched at various vantage points, crouched on rooftops and taking precise shots at the invading Taraxa (or Deemers or however one wants to refer to them). His shots, alas, are all lethal. One arrow to the skull, and they are down.

There is no mercy.

From his current placement on top of the sheriff's station roof, he's taking careful aim at a group of foes.]

Ryuu ga waga teki kurau!

[An ethereal glow forms from his exposed tattoo, and with an arrow, he launches a pair of gigantic glowing twin dragons. They twist in the air, lightning crackling around them as they rage through the group of Taraxa, leaving nothing behind.

And it will not be the last time Hanzo summons the dragons here. Throughout the battle, he keeps his focus, summoning them as needed.]

nami ☁ prompts below

[weatherscience]

[ all individual prompts will go here!! consider this a wildcard, totally ota, so feel free to hit me up for shenanigans if you'd like! and if you want a customized starter, let me know at celen! ]

( for sonia. )

[weatherscience]

Really, any of those clothes?

[ the high note of surprise in her voice floats over the crowd of people on the streets, carrying their belongings one way and the other, high enough to reach Sonia's ears as well. what the Qorral she seems to be bartering with respond is too low for those not in the immediate vicinity to hear, but her response isn't... ]

No, that's definitely worth at least four items! F-o-u-r!! You wouldn't want me exhausting all my powers without compensation, would you...? [ no matter she doesn't actually have powers and can't be exhausted from using them.

as soon as Sonia is near enough for Nami to spot her friend, she'll direct a beaming smile at the Princess and reach out to her, fingers closing over her friend's wrist to pull her over. ] Sonia-chan! Do you want to pick two items of clothes, too? [ turning over to the Qorral couple, she smiles beatifically. ] See, if two go to me and two to my friend, it is almost like you're only paying me two!

[ no it's... not... ]

[gutpunching]

[Keeping to closed prompts this time while I get my feet back under me. BUT if you want a wildcard and haven't hit me on plurk just hit me up here with a time or place (day one, day two, w/e) and I'll type you one!]

stiles.

[gutpunching]

[So. Lets say that both of them (unsurprisingly) are exactly the kind of suspicious bastard who would follow the Qorral out toward Zephyr's farm to see what's up—or if not, to follow the trajectory of the ships back once they start rising in the air. Unfortunately, arriving at the airfield at the right time finds the locals manning it under fire from a sizable crowd of fleeing Zymandis agents. Seems the enemy's opted for the next best thing after their own ships have been shot down—stealing rides from the natives. The noise is pretty hard to miss, even with the dogfights happening in the air above them, so there's plenty of time to approach with caution. With the two of them ducked behind the legs of an out-of-commission fighter before they can walk into view, Jason leans over to get a good look at the shootout.]

Whups. Looks like it's high noon already.

[That's some party. He ticks through a mental layout of the shootout—a healthy number of Zymandis mooks with their backs to the two of them, firing on the defending locals on the far side. After what appears to be a moment of consideration, he reaches for his belt to produce something that definitely appears to be a handheld explosive of some sort and holds it up for Stiles' consideration. (Fitting, maybe, considering how they met.) Y'know, hypothetically—]

How's your arm, slugger?

[Keeping those lacrosse skills sharp, bud? Because he doesn't have a whole lot of these left.]

Ban | Open

[perma_banned]

[Day One]

[The ships had already been swarming and attacking by the time Ban came back. His entrance was miniscule in comparison to the carnage--a simple blip that brought him back after a week of being gone. Standing still in the middle of fire raining down, valleys being burned fresh into the countryside and screams of desperation and anger, Ban seemed to be devoid of any real reaction. He realized where he was and what he was supposed to be doing and ignored all of it.

On one heel, he turned to face an oncoming wave of ships, circling and firing down upon the town as if to bury it in fire and rubble. His eyes followed the Qorral who had been ducking for cover and allies of his who flew into action as soon as they could. He looked stone-still in the crowd, watching and waiting without doing a thing.

He finally spoke up, hoarse in his muttering. For a moment, he sounded somewhat motivated.]

I should probably... [His hand lifted, fingers curled as if he were about to cast a spell on an incoming craft. His hand dropped, limp from what felt like an immense weight on him. Ban looked from his hand to the vehicles and back--deciding against it. He set his hand at his side and fell to the dirt on his backside, watching the heated battle progress with a look that suggested his mind had somehow lifted itself far away from where he was.

Any bit of confidence he had in himself had been taken away only just recently. The senses he carried with him at that time were still with him even then and hadn't gotten past the point of being fresh.]

Day Two
[Let me know what sort of aftermath prompt you'd like at dannication!]

Day Two (Sieglinde)

[perma_banned]

[The battle had, technically, been won but it was rare for battlefields to ever inspire people with a true sense of victory. The wreckage was crushing to look upon, the smell was gut-wrenching and most people likely still had an incredible ringing in their ears from the stream of laser-fire, explosions and even just from the vibrations that came from the ships tearing through the air near constantly. It would take most a long time to adjust to their senses and return to a feeling of normalcy.

None of it bothered Ban, who dragged more of the wounded Qorral along rickety planks of wood to keep from worsening their injuries. He had just been dragging people to the center of the town, assuming that a medic or someone along those lines would help them. Among them all, Ban looked the most pristine--untouched by burns, wounds and ash. He looked as if he hadn't been there in the first place.

When he couldn't find anyone else, he sat down by the ruins of the saloon and waited. He didn't sleep through the night at all--just sitting still and keeping his eyes on the town, still tainted by clouds of smoke and hanging dust. In the morning and, for the better part of the day, he sat there without moving or speaking to anyone.]

fiona / open

[cachemoney]

[ shoot me a wildcard or PM/PP bloodmoney if you want something specific! general prompts below. ]

DAY ONE

[cachemoney]

i. DEAD OR ALIVE.

[This entire mission has just been one giant exercise in PTSD. The earthquakes and the mining hit close to home already, but now there are things shooting at her from the sky, which brings up an entirely different unpleasant set of memories, and she ducks down behind a fence as the fighter craft soar overhead and people scatter everywhere.

She takes a second to breathe, gathering her thoughts, and also to make sure her shotgun is fully loaded. This is scary, getting shot at by lasers is scary, but --] I've lived through moonshots, [she says to whoever else is crouched nearby, not really bothering to explain what that means.] No big deal!

[No big deal. She swings around the side of the fence and aims her shotgun up, ready to blast the fighter craft circling back around for another pass.]

ii. RAWHIDE.

[At some point, there's a small posse of Qorral leaping on mechanical horses and scattering off into the desert. They don't seem to be fleeing per se, and so Fiona's curiosity is fully piqued; she'd not been making enough progress shooting the fighter craft from the ground, anyway, and who knows if the Qorral have something up their sleeve.

She easily steals a horse from the stables -- no one's guarding it right now, it's fine -- and rides off to follow them, urging anyone she meets along the way to join her.] Come on, hop on -- I want to see where the hell they're off to in such a hurry.

Loki | Open

[selfimage]

day one

[ being sneaky and undercutting the Taraxa is the easy part, and it's something that he's made for. once he finds a victim they're easy to track, and he slithers after them at an easy pace, like a careless predator. anyone who knows him well enough knows that he can be far more dangerous if he cared enough to do so, but for the moment he remains somewhat unconvinced.

two opposing sides, the same timeline.exe, and Audentes who tripped and fell in the center of it.

he's done enough traveling through the multiverse to catch wind of the implications, and they stir inside of him. the anxiety comes out as he chases the Taraxa, serving as an easy outlet to distract him from some of his more damning emotions.

one is running through the sand toward one a ship just over the horizon, and Loki's made enough of an impact to know that the Taraxa has an idea of what's on its heels. he leaves no footprints in the sand or snow, the glow of the heels of his shoes gliding him over it as if it were solid ground, not hindering his speed. he disappears and reappears using the shadow thread jacket, comically hiding behind a cactus in full view of both the Taraxa and anyone else stubborn enough to go after them.

the ship is close enough that he can see the movement of those aboard, carrying weapons of sorts to protect their incoming ally. ]

You're just going to leave me here, aren't you? Ah—[ the sigh comes out exaggerated. ] How rude.

day two

[ it's unsatisfying. their so-called victory was unsatisfying.

with Zymandis gone leaving more questions than answers, Loki settles back with a glass of hard liquor found in the ashen basement of the saloon. it was good, and he murmurs so, remarking to himself that fire does make some things better. his mind is elsewhere, so it remains mostly untouched, twirled by the rim held by dark nailed fingers. everyone is packing up, saying goodbyes and congrats, and Loki stares off into the distance where the ships had come, wondering.

ALASTAIR had been an accident, one that he welcomed in many ways. home—Asgard—was not a place he wanted to be, not with his mother forcing the quill against the page to end a divine story, and with King Loki lurking in the dungeons laying his claim to his future. he had tripped and fallen and traded one mission for another, but one that offered him a rare opportunity for his own remodel.

the universe had broken apart, made the multiverse, and now they were trying to save fragments, holding on for dear life. who was to say it was the best that it didn't die?

he stands leaning over the railing of the patio of the saloon, the amber liquid sloshing back and forth as he taps it against the wooden hand bar. ]

day 2

[expatriates]

[ She doesn't seek him out, but the familiarity is a welcome comfort all the same, and Natasha meanders his way when she spots him, hands tucked in the pockets of her ALASTAIR uniform's hooded jacket. ]

For me? You shouldn't have. [ She nods to the glass in his hand and pulls one of her own hands out of her jacket pocket to take it. We're sharing now. Glad that was cleared up. ]

Oliver Hampton | OTA

[catphishing]

The Invasion - Non-Combatant

[Oliver tries to help. He really does. But in the end he's just as much of a mess as any of the citizens he's trying help get somewhere a little safer. At one point he does try to get a malfunctioning horse somewhere it's not so in the way, but nearly gets a kick in the teeth for his trouble.

It's an elderly man who relieves him of the mechanical creature, shaking his head in a manner that leaves him feeling even more self-conscious than he did before.

"Son, you need to get yourself to safety."

That doesn't do anything for his ego either. He cringes, hoping no one's around to witness his shame.]

Aftermath

[He's not sure he has any right to after yesterday's poor performance, but Oliver feels just as worn as anyone. Back in Philadelphia he'd dreamed of more excitement. He had ideas, but if you'd asked him he'd have said he'd take anything less boring than the cards he'd been dealt.

Now he can't argue he's had excitement, but it hasn't been fulfilling. He's tired, and aches for something familiar.

It's probably not the best time for alcohol, but he's not about to deny himself the opportunity. It's hardly celebratory though. He takes a glass and slinks off to a quiet corner to nurse it away from where any Qorral are packing up their lives.]

I guess at least they still have booze out here.

aftermath

[slapfight]

Oh... Is that what this is?

[and lo, did a green girl with triangular hair wearing a poncho and overlarge boots with spurs did appear before the nerd carrying a large bottle of alcohol in her arms. and it was... probably a bit weird to be honest.

she's only here because context clues have led her to figuring out JUST WHAT THIS BOTTLE IS FOR, and her need to find out exactly how much she should be insulted or honored by this gift wins out over another person's need for quiet time.]

I was wondering why that Qorral gave it to me...