epidemiology | EVENT ★ CRUMBLING WORLD

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EVENT ★ CRUMBLING WORLD

Are you prepared for the fight of your life? You better be.

The Oska staff and the others who are staying behind gather in the courtyard to wish the recruits luck. It's a much more formal affair than rifting out to missions usually is, with recruits casting spells on each other for luck and for strength, and still others passing around potions and elixirs for healing and stamina.

In addition to Audentes and the guests' teams, there are also a number of ex-convicts from the Asterion Prison ready to rift out as well, and familiar teams like Mariposa, Squirrel Fucker, and Unicorn. The undead catlike humanoid Pomarr stands near a brother and sister recruited from Q-65. A handful of former Zymandis agents look uncomfortable in their new purple uniforms but grimly ready for action, with Mavahari at the head of their team.

And Team Kittypaw, Audentes's big sister team, is of course ready to get their hands (and paws) dirty right alongside everyone else.

A green-skinned alien who works in the Medical Center steps forward and gives a brief statement of hope and a wish for luck. Then the recruits flagged for the rift begin to glow, the world flickers white, and it's time for the crumbling world.

THE LAND AND SKY

When the contingent of ALASTAIR teams rifts in, it's onto a series of unsteady, crumbling stretches of land. Why the land is so unsteady is quickly apparent: they are floating platforms, unused to the sudden weight of so many bodies. The platforms are so wobbly that some unlucky ones may lose their footing and actually go sliding toward the edge. This is not a soft landing by any means.

Once you get your bearings, you'll want to start toward a castle rising in the distance: the Ophiel AI still active inside the ex-Zymandis agents' jewelcomms pinpoints it as the location of the TIMELINE.exe's signal. But don't expect an easy stroll to reach it. The entire landscape is separated into floating, drifting chunks of crumbling earth, with no way to travel between them but to jump.

Making things even more difficult is the steam rolling over the platforms, obscuring the edges and reducing visibility all around. As the planet cracks apart, its surface peels back to let lava heat up the atmosphere, causing the steam and filling the air with oppressive heat and humidity. The lava occasionally burbles up into geysers, so be careful when jumping from platform to platform, and make sure you time it right.

Patrolling some of the larger platforms are Zymandis robot guards. If you avoid the large platforms and take advantage of the camouflage provided by the steam, you might be able to avoid the robots . . . but if the steam clears, look out: they're equipped with laser weapons and can rocket boost short distances to whatever platform you may be hiding on. And not only is their close proximity bad for you, but their extra weight is bad for the already-fragile platforms.

Make it past all these obstacles -- the platforms, the steam, the lava, the robots -- and you'll find the biggest platform where the castle sits, itself a crumbling mass of stone.

THE CASTLE

The castle is made of dark and brittle stone, and is palpably thrumming with magic and electricity, like a dark twin to Oska's own castle. It's situated on a platform floating high above the others, fortuitously far enough from the lava below that there's a respite from the humidity and heat. But this far up in the sky, the opposite appears to be the problem: the wind is cold and biting, threatening to push anyone right off the ledge. Best push on into the castle itself.

Just beyond the massive gated door is the grand hall of the castle, though in its crumbling state, it's objectively not very grand at all. Elaborate stained glass windows once filled the walls and ceiling, most of the panes now on the ground in jagged piles of glass alongside stone rubble. It's probably best not to stand in one place for too long -- you never know when some other structure in the castle will collapse.

Some time may be spent exploring the grand hall before moving on, though there's not much to find. A rusted halberd here, a pile of useless debris there. The Ophiel AI urges everyone to move on to find the TIMELINE.exe, but there's suddenly a noticeable chill in the air and from the staircase descends a trio of white-robed figures.

The figures are spirit wizards, Ophiel quickly explains; they have no physical body but are instead formed by pure spiritual energy. As long as one lives, they will keep reforming as three, so all of them will need to be taken out all at once. Physical attacks won't be very effective against beings without a physical form, Ophiel continues; burn them away with magic and the elements and you might stand a chance.

The spirit wizards can fling people about with wind magic, electrocute with lightning magic, and engulf anything in flames. Lacking a physical form, they can also teleport, so protecting one another is an important strategy to survive the battle.

The other teams are all practiced warriors in one way or another, but with so many people in one place, all fighting the same enemy, some organization is called for before it becomes an all-out catastrophe. The castle, after all, can only withstand so much accidental fire before it's game over.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to the last mission of the season! This log will ICly last three hours, with the next log picking up immediately afterward. If you have any questions about this log, please direct them to the dossier.

Because this log is going up near the end of the month, you may use threads started in October for November AC, provided you don't use the same thread for October AC as well.

NOTE: November is the last month for AC Bonus Bank! The Bonus Bank will close on December 5th, 23:59 UTC. To celebrate the finale, we are removing the coin cap, meaning you can submit more than 100 coins with no upper limit. Coin balances will not transfer to Season 2.

If you have questions about the game in general, please use the game FAQ.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No. ( see it would have been great, if loki would have just fucked off, gone somewhere else, done his own thing. but loki, apparently, can't do that. and see: jon understands. if he had been from a few weeks prior, he'd be standing here, antagonizing the shit out of people. would have tried to kill loki on sight, just for being different. unhuman. but he isn't the same jon as he was weeks ago. things have changed.

and he's here for a reason. he raises a hand to his face, thumb and index finger rubbing at his temple to try and relieve some of the stress there. it's not very effective, but he's trying.

just for loki being a little shit, he extends out his other hand, red telekinetic energy more than obvious as it circles around his fingers, covers his fist and one of the nearby platforms moments before he's slowly curling his fingers in and crushing it to bits. it's stupid to show off because someone's antagonizing him, and he's not really showing off that much, but.

fuck this guy. ) I'm telekinetic. Telepathic. Strong, fast. Does it really fucking matter?

[ hm, this one has definitely upped his edgy teenager game. there's a pause in his step as he observes the rock explosion, and he flicks away a few stray pebbles with the tips of glowing green fingers.

a dark brow cocks on his direction. ]

We're at the end of the world chasing a narcissistic doom-mongering fellow bent on ending all worlds in a grand cataclysmic event to fulfill some crummy rebirth prophecy. Do you know how easily those can go awry? This is the grand finale.

So, yes, of course it matters.

[ Loki leaps easily onto another platform and gives him a mock frown. ]

While we're all not the world-saving types. [ more of the world ending types, amirite. ] We all still do need a place to live, and to go when we don't want to go to that place that we live.

( he’s received an explanation, but it wasn’t nearly as--clear as the one loki paints. his own brows furrow in response, jumping forward another few platforms before jon decides jumping is fucking stupid--and with his next leap, just stays in the air. )

So, what, you think I’d just go out of my way to fuck it up with my super breath? I’m sure that’s really fucking frightening to world-ending, doom-mongering shitheads. ( as a world-ending war-monger, super breath doesn’t seem like that much of a big fucking deal. though, jon didn’t hesitate to try and end his own clone the moment he came into the same time stream as him. so he can’t really say jack shit. )

I’m not going to mess it up. I’d still like somewhere to live too, y’know.

[ perhaps he's been here too long, and it shows in his delivery. he's casual for a guy who would love to stab his truth-telling sword through the back of Theodor Arbatel, but as so many waves have hit the sand, Loki has found good ways of diverting his own rage into finesse. ]

It's lucky that there's not just one of us then, isn't it? We're an eclectic, argumentative bunch but we're good at getting the job done. [ even after some poor choices were made. they still sting. he doesn't forget those things, he stashes them away for bitter fuel later. ] So, I wouldn't downplay your super breath, it may yet come in super handy.

[ yeah, he sure just did that. he looks pleased about it too. ]

( idly, he wonders how often loki's mouth gets him into shit. jon imagines it's more often than not, considering how much he wants to punch him straight in the jaw to shut him up, and he's barely known him--what, five minutes? granted, tolerance grows with time; maybe he's been around long enough that all of the older recruits have already gotten used to the way he runs his tongue.

jon never will. he didn't name it--though honestly, if he did, how else would one describe a skill that that? his lungs hold more oxygen, can pressurize it, there's not really a more clever way to describe that in as little syllables as super breath has. )

I don't need any of you to get the job done. ( jon's sure if he really felt like it, he could handle all this bullcrap by himself. save them all some time. but what would he learn with that. ) So why don't you just shut your mouth and move faster?

[ that's all Loki's mouth gets him into, thanks. ]

If they didn't—[ Loki clicks his fingers with a whisper beneath his breath, and in a flash of green light he's on the precipice above him. ]—they wouldn't have sent the army.

[ that's what they were, kind of. Loki called it ALASTAIR's luck of the draw, but he figured that it had more to do with resonance. there had once been two Lokis in one place, and he had his own Thor, while another had come and gone.

like pulls like; it was part of the annoying bullshit about the universe. ]

Not too fast, was it?

( his eyes can't follow that--which means loki's teleporting, not moving. it works just as well, really. jon can be from place to place in less than an instant, too, if he felt like it. unfortunately, he's still figuring out what the shit he's doing here, and there aren't any familiar faces that he actually wants to talk to. which means staying with this group.

a heel presses down into the the rock below him before he's leaping up onto the platform after loki, landing with a quiet thud on the edge with a few displaced rocks falling off. )

What is Asgard?

[ there's a robot on the flat plane of the stone, but Loki takes care of it quickly with a swift motion of his hand and a flash of green light. it fades in long tendrils that curl into the air; Loki brushes his hands off like he's gotten them dirty. ]

It's a place, one of the Ten Realms—home to the gods.

[ he says it like he's explaining a turkey dinner: it's a dull fact of life, rather than something else beyond the scope of the mortal. if considered, there is something off about Loki. his presence sinks down deep in the fabric of reality, a fingerprint more that's more akin to a bruise. ]

( it's exactly the response jon was anticipating, at least. which means that this loki is, most likely, comparable to the same loki who wanders earth on occasion back on his own earth. he's not entirely familiar with the concept of asgardians--but he's familiar enough. this man is one of the gods referred to in norse mythology, the trickster.

jon watches him jump around, furrows his brows as he takes down the robot, but doesn't quite follow after him. not yet. )

And you're--what, vacationing on war grounds?

[ the funny thing about truth and lies are that one doesn't come without the other. Loki usually doesn't outright lie, it's unbecoming and sloppy, but instead he picks at the truth here and there, exaggerates and omits until it becomes more palatable. knowing when to twist the truth and when to tell it had been a gift of his. ]

Exiled and keeping myself busy.

[ he continues, green eyes watching him from over his shoulder. ]

Why do all new recruits think everyone wants to go home?

I don’t. ( jon can’t see why everyone would want to go back. he understands why some would (what does clark kent have to lose by returning?) but there isn’t exactly a timeline for him to return to himself. not that he particularly minds this place. this is pretty much his ideal grounds, after all. ) You can want to stay here, want to leave--I don’t give a shit.

( another leap up, following loki onto the next platform before he’s moving forward onto the next, larger one. ) I’m not leaving here.

[ the amount of you're a god, why don't you go home? questions have plagued him since his first mission. it's never something that he wants to divulge, even if it may be getting easier with time. ]

Well—[ there's a hint of a smile on his lips. ]—what happens when this is all finished, then? That is what this is all about, after all.

[ it's been two years, yet somehow Asgard feels distant, still. the fury on his mother's face as she raised her staff is still as vivid as the day that it happened.

he knows—he knows—that Asgard is not better off with King Loki, yet their expectations still feel heavy. sacrifice what he had built his identity on for the cause feels close to the horror that was the Ragnarok cycle.

Loki follows, hands in his pockets and an easy sway on his hips. ]

( it’s a good question, isn’t it? what does he do once this is all over? once the war he’d walked into’s over, when the winning team (theirs) takes the crown and marches off with it. most others would go back to their home world, right? they’d leave to return to whatever the hell they had waiting for them back where they came from, but—

jon’s world was in pieces when he left it. the war he’d raged desecrated cities. the metahumans were mostly all dead. the heroes that were supposed to help—jon had ended them all. those who are left alive detest him, he’s certain. it’s not something he has stopped to think about much before; when he was fighting, he’d thought he had been doing the right thing. but sometimes being wrong means committing mass murder and realizing after that you’ve killed more people than you’ve actually helped, right?

another robot turns towards them in the distance, and jon’s eyes glow a brightbright red, moments before he breaks the robot’s head straight off of it’s body, shattering it before it hits the ground. )

I’ll stay here. ( yes, clark is here, but clark is better than going back to where he came from. )

[ it's a day in the life, walking through all of the destruction, and Loki doesn't flinch as the robot breaks into pieces and scatters across the platform like a broken toy. he steps around it as they approach the next platform. ]

In Oska, I take it. [ and not here on crumble planet. ] You must have been, before you came here.

[ his eyes fix on him before he makes the next leap up. ]

Something will have to be done. There are those that won't be able to return to their worlds at all, as some of them have collapsed to nothingness.

As for what will become of Oska ...

[ if they succeed. if the multiverse doesn't collapse. if Arbatel is found. ]

For a minute. ( jon arrived, he saw, that was enough for him. the planet itself wasn’t really of interest to him. honestly—all he needs is a nice, yellow sun, and jon doesn’t give a shit about the rest of where he is, as long as it’s not where he came from. here, oska, another planet, whatever. )

Doesn’t matter to me. I can just as easily live in space. ( he’s got no need for sustenance aside from the sun, after all. jon jumps up onto the next platform, doesn’t quite get high enough and latches his fingers around the edge, using that hold to pull him up the rest of the way. ) ‘s not that hard to find an empty planet.

( or at least he assumes. how hard could it be? or just terraform a new one. )

Intergalactic road trips get awfully long when there's no destination.

[ as do inter-dimensional ones, but he's been on both, and neither ended the way that he wanted them to. ah, bittersweet, borderline horrifying memories. ]

And even empty planets get boring.

[ the thing about anger was that there was always a need to channel it, somehow. for Loki, it was through deception and his own brand of self-deprecating humor. ]

I can keep myself entertained. ( maybe not for a lifetime, but for long enough. he's. not one who is much for needless destruction anymore, sure, but breaking a few things will keep his mind entertained for a while.

and an empty planet doesn't sound too bad. ) And I didn't say I'd stay on it for forever.

[ Jon gets a knowing look as Loki pauses. he wonders about that, and if his anger would fester or disperse with nothing to direct it upon.

then he waves a hand, spreading out his dark nailed fingers and continuing their slow walk to the castle. ]

Did you bring a pack of cards? One of those stress relieving coloring books? They're all the rage on Midgard.

( cute, loki. both of his hands raise, arms extending out to show that there isn’t anything in his hands--the suit he’s wearing is. tight enough not to hide shit under it, with sleeves that extend down into fingerless gloves. jon couldn’t hide shit on him even if he wanted to. )

Trip over left me pretty empty handed. Unfortunately, containment suits don’t come equipped with pockets.

Hm—tell me ... What do containment suits come equipped with, then?

[ since Jon opened the door, Loki pries it the rest of the way open with casual flair. the question is posed with a curious sort of sincerity. while old habits still lingered with a new role, they weren't as malicious as they had been once upon a time when a villainous Loki sought to break the foundations of civilizations.

no, this was just a question. ]

It self-repairs. Supposedly it monitors TK signals and sends it back to N.O.W.H.E.R.E, but they’re not here, so. ( it’s not really his suit, anyway. jon’s wasn’t so much a containment suit as it was uniform; this one was graciously given to him when he was being used to replace a missing clone.

so none of this shit is really information he minds sharing. he’ll shut up when he feels the need to. none of this matters here. ) Aside from that, nothing.

You might want to think of sprucing up. The whole thing is kind of ... blah. You're out in the multiverse, who needs to monitor you anymore?

[ coming from the guy in gold horns, since he has a great sense of style. ]

Besides, you could have pockets.

It’s not my suit, so not my wiretaps. ( nobody’s got time for that! he does tilt his head down, looks to the red and. . black and the shit house of el sigil on his chest.

and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. ) And this is coming from the guy in the horns. Maybe later.

It's coming from the guy with pockets. [ k thnx. ] But if you want want a pair of horns we could arrange something. If you're comfortable with that kinda thing. You seem more like a winged helm sort of fellow, though.

[ he brings a hand up and measures Jon's head between his thumb and forefinger, like it can be taken with any kind of accuracy. ]

( pockets may be amazing, but plenty of people live without pockets, loki. look at all those girlpants with fake pockets. every other person wearing a spandex suit that definitely doesn't have any room to hide shit. )

I'm not a anything on my head kind of person.

(no subject)

selfimage - 2017-12-03 19:20 (UTC) - Expand

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