EVENT ▸ EMPIRE OF THE CRASHING WAVE

[futurologists]

EMPIRE OF THE CRASHING WAVE The royalty of Guild Ophelia has managed to hold an audience with Empress Nama of the Celestial Mountains, urging her to meet with the Empress of the Crashing Wave in the interest of finding an accord between their clans. In return, Nama requests that Ophelia take two letters to the Crashing Wave's court, where, as foreigners, they should be received better than any of her own people. The Empire of the Crashing Wave is a week's travel by foot from the Land of Celestial Mountains, through the forests and farms of the Flowerlands. There is no visible indication that this universe was once two, with even the road leading through the Flowerlands heading seamlessly toward the sea. The farms and villages in the outskirts of the Empire of the Crashing Wave are decorated in seashells and motifs of the sea, and the closer one gets to the city, the stronger the scent of the ocean becomes. Once the city proper is reached, Ophelia's magitek projects words in front of their eyes that only they can see: Location reached: » EMPIRE OF THE CRASHING WAVE A progressive society that values innovation. Main sources of income: fishing, pearl diving, jewelry crafting, shipbuilding. Politically matriarchal; socially egalitarian. Empress YOUMI resides at the PEACEFUL TIDE. No events scheduled. You may wish to survey the surrounding area. The city is built right on the ocean's edge, with some parts of it even jutting out into the sea on bridges and piers. The castle, Peaceful Tide, is built high above the rest; guards will stop anyone at the gates and, if shown the correspondence from Empress Nama, will deliver the letters directly to Empress Youmi. Attempts to seek an audience with Youmi will be rebuffed for the time being, so you may as well take in the sights... ▸ A PROMISING DEVELOPMENT Unlike the Land of Celestial Mountains, men may move freely here, the matriarchal rules of the land only extending to politics. Men and women work alongside each other in all sections of the city, nobles and commoners alike, and even the guards have men among their ranks. In the Artisan District, potters, musicians, and artists line the streets and sell their wares, work, or discuss their craft with each other. Closer to the Beach, there is a boardwalk where young couples stroll alongside grandparents chasing after their grandchildren, electric lamps bathing the wooden planks in a warm glow at night. Fishermen haul in their daily catch in buckets and nets, trailed by a gaggle of hopeful cats. Beachcombers and pearl divers populate the beach as well, making it a clear place for work instead of play. A few days after Ophelia's arrival in sea clan territory, a bell rings loudly in the late afternoon, drawing citizens toward the castle. Guards stop anyone from getting too close, though the populace seems to know what to expect -- soon, a beautiful woman in an elaborate blue kimono appears in an upper balcony. When viewing the woman, Ophelia's magitek will tell them: » EMPRESS YOUMI Leader of the EMPIRE OF THE CRASHING WAVE. 30 years old. SPECIES: Human. MEDICAL CONCERNS: Lactose intolerant. The crowd cheers at Youmi's arrival, only quieting once she raises her hand. She speaks clearly and confidently, her voice carrying easily across the assembly. "I have received a letter from Her Imperial Majesty Nama of the Land of Celestial Mountains. She informs me that their spring festival was interrupted by an attack from our own people, working without my knowledge or consent," Youmi begins, holding her hand up again when a displeased rumble begins to ripple through the crowd. It's unclear if they're perturbed by the ambush or by Nama herself. Once all is silent again, she continues. "She has detained the criminals, for that is what they are, and assures me she will not bring this to the battlefield. I will send her an agreement to the terms, but hear this: any who escalate this further will be slain by my order. I have spoken. The spirits of the sea watch over us all." Youmi then retreats back into the castle. While some citizens cheer their empress's decree, others mutter unhappily amongst themselves as they disperse and go about their business. ▸ BUT TROUBLE CONTINUES The rest of the day following Youmi's decree goes by without incident, leaving time for Ophelia to stop by the sake breweries near the sea or travel back through the forests of the Flowerlands for hunting, hot springs, or simply enjoying the nature of Hanabira. With war averted and the empresses in communication, it seems as though Ophelia's time in this universe will draw to a close soon. As the sun sinks down, finding a place to sleep might be a good idea. There are hotels in the city, but for those who are trying to be a little more frugal, the Flowerlands is a good place to set up camp for free. Doro, the Lord of the Flowerlands, has heard of Ophelia's efforts in starting communication between the empresses as well, and offers rooms in his castle in thanks; if war were to start between the two, his land would suffer for it. During the night, those who accept Doro's invitation will hear a commotion very nearby, steel clashing against steel. Doro and his daughters rush out, weapons drawn, and straight into a skirmish between sea and mountain clan ronin. The warriors are fighting to kill, and in their fervor, someone's fire arrow alights a farmhouse on Doro's property. The farmers need to be rescued and the fire put out, and while the warriors will likely kill each other, they could also be subdued to prevent further damage. Please let the mods know with a link to the thread if your character is killing or capturing any of the ronin. After the skirmish, Doro must be brought back inside his castle, having been wounded during the battle. He pleads with Ophelia to continue to help, as it looks like a tentative truce by the empresses is not enough to calm the citizens. Since they were so successful in receiving an audience with Nama, he believes they can propose a way the two empires can live in harmony. Throughout the next two weeks, skirmishes between the clans are peppered throughout the Flowerlands, some leaving bodies behind and some leaving damage to farms and forest. It looks like Ophelia's peacekeeping mission just became a lot more hands-on: keep the skirmishes from getting out of control while still working toward a way to end the conflict once and for all. ▸ OOC NOTES This log will last for two IC weeks: the first three days will be free exploration, and day four is Youmi's proclamation and the skirmish in the Flowerlands. Your characters are free to explore for the next ten days, during which further skirmishes will occur. If you have questions about this log or the overall mission, please ask them on the dossier. Questions about Futurology in general should be directed to the FAQ. ▸ Coming next log: Peace proposals! Get your brainstorming started now. ▸ Activity Check is due on 5 February 23:59 UTC. We do not accept late submissions, so make sure you fill it out! ▸ Uniform Design Contest is open! Submissions are due 28 February 23:59 UTC. Gamewide voting will be in March. ▸ Bounty Board ▸ Items Page ▸ Exploration Group Planning ▸ General Plotting ▸ February Calendar

Comments

EXPLORATION

[futurologists]

Due to time constraints, we will only be allowing five replies per subthread. For this reason, we suggest grouping up to allow multiple characters to get to explore. We have put up an OOC post for players to group up, so head on over.

As a reminder, we do not answer follow-up questions that are not for clarification purposes. We aim to give players all the information they will need in our initial response; there is no "magic question" you need to ask, so to speak!

Players will have 72 hours from the start of this log to submit their explorations -- this means they will be due at 00:01 UTC on the 6th of February. Please let us know all the characters involved, what they will be doing/searching, and what they will be talking about/asking (if interacting with a person).

Please keep it to only one group per character. We would also like to ask that 'sub-groups' go in separate comments for ease of replying; each sub-group will count as a separate submission towards the 5 group total. We would also like to remind you that the more detail you give us, the better! What time the interaction is occurring, for example, and any specifics you can give us will help us in giving you a more detailed answer back.

BEACH

[futurologists]

The beach appears to be a popular area, but perhaps not for the same reasons a modern character might expect. Rather than being a spot for fun and relaxation, it appears to be many citizens of the empire's workplace. A fisherman sits at the pier, reading a book of poetry to pass the time while he waits for a bite. Down by the shore are two women who appear to be pearl divers; one chats enthusiastically at her more reserved companion as they survey their findings. Characters may also search the area.

What will you do?

Majima | Yakuza 0 | OTA

[justbeingknife]

Free diving;
[ "I think you're just scared," said the woman in the water, raising one eyebrow in what could universally be understood to be a dare. From his spot on the pier, Majima scowled. ]

Ain't afraid of some damn water. I just don't feel like gettin' in.

[ Not to mention that stripping down would lead to some super awkward questions for even an ex-yakuza. Thank god they weren't in the mountains, and that she wasn't ordering him to get in.

"It's okay. You're a tourist! I bet you can't swim, anyway."

gdi....... ]

Brew Can Do It;
[ Majima raised a glass of sake, dubious origin notwithstanding, waiting for his drinking partner across the table to reciprocate. It was evening, meaning that the day's heat was already well on its way out. Though the air smelled of saltwater rather than the river, he might as well have been home. ]

Been a long couple of days, huh? Bottoms up.

[ This was community service, ok? Get off his back, he was helping. ]

But Trouble Continues;
[ The cries of clashing blades and panicked farmers would be hard for anyone to sleep through, but least of all for someone who'd been unable to get to sleep in the first place.

Off in the distance, one of the farmhouses glowed a dull orange. A stray horse, panicked and separated from its master, galloped past, narrowly missing a small gaggle of armed ronin. Majima stepped out into the night air and immediately decked one of the warriors with a single punch. She was wearing the colors of the sea clan; her compatriots turned on him, weapons raised.

Good. If they were focused on him, they wouldn't be able to cause havoc elsewhere. ]

Anyone who wants to die, come at me! It'll spare me the trouble of chasin' ya down!

[ The quiet calm of his normal demeanor was gone, replaced by a sense of violence roiling right under the surface. More like the baying of a hound with its blood up than the smooth words of a buttoned-up civilian. ]

Wildcard;
[ u kno the drill ]

shots shots shots shots

[deemed]

[Odinson had planned to travel through the flowerlands, but on hearing there's a brewery in their path he changes his plan-]

Aye. Here's to the work we've done and to the days ahead.

[The glass is raised, he downs the small cup of sake.]

keith | voltron: legendary defender | ota!

[secondnature]

i. a head start

[Keith is in a Mood when the rest of the guild shows up. He's been camping on the outskirts of the town in the meantime. After all, he and Rey had the brilliant idea of going ahead and finding answers. After all, that beat trying to negotiate with people, or ... whatever. It was a good idea at the time.

As it is, he's grumpily packing up when the guild nears, frown firm on his face.]

Be careful. They might decide that you're not welcome.

[Which is not at all why Keith got locked out.]

ii. the beach

[Once it's time to explore, Keith decides to hit the beach. Between fake beach simulations and stupid Altean pools on the Castle Ship back home, Keith hasn't had the opportunity to be on a real beach. Of course, the simulation was great, but it had come with a price: losing his training center. Here, he has a choice. And his choice is to head to the beach!

a Only when he gets there, he finds that the beach is a little less for fun in the sun and more for actual work. Keith ends up with a towel around his shoulders looking rather put out before long. Finding Keith brooding while debating where to go next isn't difficult. In fact, he might hit the beach more than once, only he won't come with a towel later on.

b: Eventually, Keith will just say screw it and decide to go swimming. It might be a faux pas, but there's a solid chance that he won't care enough to keep himself from trying. It's not like it's the first social situation where he's done what he wants. Time to be a rebel! Time to ... swim!

Oh, and if someone else is there?]

Come on. We have to do this. We won't get another chance.

[Which is a little less defiant than it could be. Keith, as always, is ready to argue if needed.]

iii: training montage

[Armed with a new spear, a knife, and a bayard (which turns into a sword), Keith will be training during his other down time. Well aware that some of his weapons might attract attention, he'll be finding open sprawls of land outside of town (or in what is more specifically defined as the Flowerlands) to begin his work.

While Keith is good with the sword and the knife, he looks awkward with the spear, like he's trying to get his bearings.

When he hears someone approach, he'll grunt to a stop, panting out.]

I could use a partner.

iv. ronin brawling

[It doesn't take much for Keith to decide to focus on the brawls once they begin to take place. Some part of him wishes that everything were simpler. Playing peacekeeper isn't really his style. Fighting for one side passionately is—but he knows what it's like to be caught between two wars. It's one thing when an Empire is evil, but it's another even when you're good, but what you're a part of typically isn't.

His goal with the brawls will always be the same: try to put them down and capture them.

a: During the capturing process, Keith will always be glad for the help, especially since he has a knack for trying to get all eyes on him. During these moments, his bruiser focus is in play.

b: Afterward, there will be the matter of questioning the captured ronin. Keith will definitely need some help for this portion.]

v. wildcard

[Feel free to wildcard me or hit me up here to figure something out. I'm always happy to write a special starter if you can't think of anything.]

iv. a-ish

[kisha]

[Patrolling the Flowerlands gives her something to focus on, a concrete task... and Hayame is sure there must be leaders of some kind, somewhere, drumming up these forays into the lush territory between the two clans.

When she hears the sounds of fighting, she turns her path towards it, kicking into a canter... only to come across Keith mid-brawl.

Her arrows was more likely to kill than not, and they need these dissidents alive. So rather that take out her bow, Hayame charges into the fray... and tackles a woman who was rushing Keith from behind.

She figures he can handle the one in front of him on his own.]

Hayame | Jinba | OTA

[kisha]

０１ ↣ お出かけ ↣ SEA CLAN LANDS

SEAFOOD [Hayame has little experience with food caught from the sea, her master's stables having been located far enough from the ocean that the only thing that made the journey was dried mackerel. Yet here... fish and octopi and shells and crabs... they have the time, she isn't interfering with the mission...

So Hayame is sampling, making her way through the morning market that springs up in the mornings by the beach selling the freshest of catches, passing small coins here and there for a single fish, a single urchin, a single tentacle... until she glances about and accidentally catches the eye of a fellow Hathaway member, pausing awkwardly with a mouth full of raw fish.]

FIRST OCEAN [She's seen an illusion of it, back in Oska. A body of water so large that it stretches beyond the boundaries of her imagination. But knowing it had been false had dulled some of the wonder from such a sight, and though this one here is not the ocean of her world... it is real.

She's probably interfering slightly in the business of the people at work on the beach, standing where she is, stock still despite the salty breeze tousling her long mane and tail... but she stays put, staring out at the water.]

０２ ↣ 闘争 ↣ CONFLICT IN THE FLOWERLANDS

[Though she hadn't accepted the offer to stay within Doro's palace, Hayame had stayed close... close enough to see the flames bright on the horizon, to hear the sounds of clashing, to smell burning. It's an all too familiar smell to her, and it brings out an instinctual fear in her equine parts- but she grabs her weapons and sets off towards the conflict, tearing past local and Hathaway member alike until she spots the silhouette in the night of someone she views as martially capable.]

Grab on!

[There's an arm outstretched, but it comes from a centaur galloping at full speed. Going to take that offer?]

０３ ↣ 温泉 ↣ HOT SPRINGS COOLDOWN

[After the fire is put out, the attack quelled... Hayame drags herself to the hot springs she's been frequenting in this world, leaving ash-stained hoof prints behind, the scent of burnt wood and flesh clogging up her nostrils and her head. She doesn't cleanse herself beforehand, doesn't take the time to tie up her hair, merely strips her clothing and weapons from her body, unbinds her breasts, and wades in, letting the ash trail off her skin into the water, hissing as the hot water laps over a cut, a burn she had not noticed.

But she doesn't care, sinking exhausted into the water and tucking herself against the rocks on the side and closing her eyes.]

０４ ↣ 鬼札を引く ↣

[Hit me up for a custom starter! Please feel free to PM or plurk stormcoming. Bounties or further prompts to come below.]

02

[justbeingknife]

[ Hell yeah. Majima threw out a hand at once, scary galloping hooves or no, while several ronin scattered in the face of Hayame's approach. ]

Let's do it!

veronica lodge | riverdale | ota!

[refashioned]

i: running down to the riptide

[While Veronica doesn't initially set out to the Artisan District to be an artist, it doesn't take long for her more artistic side of her personality to come out. She may be here to try to avoid her father's mob boss connections (and her own future in the mob), but she does have that side to speak of.

(Not that anyone knows that her father's a mob boss. Tight lipped, she is.)

As it is, it doesn't take someone as charismatic as Veronica too long to pull in someone playing a rhythm to her liking. The songs of choice? Decidedly not native to any part of Hanabira. Yes, they're pop songs, for the most part.

Whenever she spots someone she recognizes, Veronica will be eager to wave them over. No, they don't have to sing if they don't want to—but it might be a good time to dance. Which, well, is another one of Veronica's talents. She's right at home!]

ii: hanzo voice: SAKE!!!

[Should Veronica be sampling sake by modern understanding of legality? Maybe not. Is she definitely sampling sake regardless? Yes. It's not like her parents would mind. She regularly starts her days off with mimosas.

Naturally, Veronica isn't just here to take part in the drink but to be around others while they drink. One of the servers brings her a long role of sampler glasses just before she motions for a guildmate to join her.]

I couldn't possibly finish these on my own. [A beat.] Oh, and this is the floral flight. I really appreciated the alliteration. [Plus, unlike some of the flavors, this didn't sound as bad.]

iii: the gloomy prompt

[On what feels like a rare evening of peace, Veronica steps outside in the evening to take in the fresh air in the Flowerlands. That's where they were invited to stay, and she believes in preserving neutrality at this time. The appearance of that is important, at any rate.

Given the nature and all that comes with it, it's difficult for her to not be alert about the rustling in the grass behind her (or to her right or wherever). Not one to be spooked, she'll turn and smile.]

Hey—I was trying to enjoy a peaceful night. With how things have been, I've begun to worry whether we'll be able to restore the peace. You don't think the Empresses would be keen to marry each other, do you?

iv. wildcard

[I'd love to do political threads and stuff, but that might need a specific starter, so feel free to hit me up for something. Anything else is game! I never mind writing the starter myself.]

ii.

[selfimage]

[ she may recognize him, or she may not. the black nails are the same, as is the hair that seems to artfully fall where ever Loki wills it. he holds the glass between his fingers, considering it as she plays with the words. ]

This was an opportunity missed in my opinion—unless there's one around here called the fight or flight.

[ see, puns are totally sophisticated, he looks pretty pleased with that one.

then he downs the sake like its a shot and considers the ... mortal booze. ]

rey | now with open options!!

[forcevisions]

i. for keith and kylo ren | arrival (day 0)

[ there's something truly intimidating about the city where empress youmi kept her castle. perhaps that it sits so squatly on a rock in the sea and hasn't sunk back to the depths yet. it seems to be both a part of the nature surrounding it, as the mountain clan had, and somehow paradoxically at odds with it. some colossal defiance of nature itself.

mostly, rey's just angry about the fact that they won't open their gates. urahara and loki are off elsewhere, probably dealing with the guards on duty to figure out if there's a means for them to get through. ]

Even if we talk our way in past the guards, think of all the attention we'll draw! The only people to get the doors to open … the only foreigners!

[ she hadn't thought of these things before hanabira. it grates on her, a little, to consider them now. ]

ii. for yusuke and aizawa | ogre hunting and training (day 1-3)

[ a lifetime living out of an at-at has rey pretty used to bringing most of the things she owns around with her, so she has her bag and staff on her shoulder when they walk out to the back edge of a farm in the flowerlands. it's close enough to the sea clan that it's not atrociously out of the way, but it's a good place to double back to. convenient.

more convenient because it's quiet and secluded. the perfect place to train. ]

This should do.

[ she drops her bag down beside the post of one of the fences. actually, the fence looks … broken. she takes a minute to examine the hole where the post had been ripped from, taking with it two horizontal beams on each side that were splintered and lost.

huh. weird. whatever! she glances back at aizawa and yusuke. ]

Don't you think?

iii. for allura | sake-tasting (day 1-3)

[ exploring the territory of the sea clan seems like the best way to spend their time here, gathering information from the locals about who might be spearheading the effort to sabotage the mountain clan. people's lips tend to get loosest around liquor, if maz's castle was anything to go by, so when she sees signs advertising new flavors near one of the breweries at the sea, rey decides to make the hike.

the brewery isn't as crowded as she might have expected when she enters. it's quite low-key, actually, and the brewmaster explains that it's because they haven't settled on which of their new flavors to make available. ]

You need some to … test them?

[ rey asks, looking doubtful. she's not usually one to turn down free food or drink, but spending a day blasted out of her mind at a sake brewery wasn't precisely what she'd had in mind in coming here. ]

iv. open | beach (day 1-3)

[ this is the kind of ocean rey likes to appreciate. unlike the viridian sea, where the rock of the boats had forced her to spend much of it nauseous, rey is barefoot in the sand and strolling the boardwalk for much of the first few days once they're welcomed into the empire. she's … obviously super excited about it. splashing and grinning, but never venturing out very far.

she also spends time getting in good with the pearl divers, helping them sort through their haul but never going out into the water to participate fully. despite her love of the ocean, she seems markedly indecisive about going far out into it. but she and the pearl divers and fishermen seem to have a lot to talk about, so she's happy. ]

I grew up searching for buried treasure where I came from too. Nothing like this … it was an old battlefield. [ she prattles on freely, avoiding the mention of ships and scrap, but allowing her experience to endear her to them. ]

v. open | doro's castle (day 4)

[ other things rey doesn't turn down: free beds.

doro's castle is without a doubt the largest place she's ever stayed in her life, so once she has dropped her bag off in a room — she keeps her lightsaber in her belt pouch instead of in her pack. she doesn't trust doro quite well enough to think he won't send his servants rifling through team ophelia's things — she starts wandering the grounds.

it's honestly ?? really nice ?? she's feeling pretty good about this. the empress' proclamation earlier that day has her in a good mood. she feels vindicated. obviously the invaders had confessed, as she and kylo ren had compelled them to do, and it appeared to have made a considerable difference. an averted war. that's big. ]

I guess this means we'll be going back soon. [ she says when she stumbles upon another member of team ophelia in searching the castle grounds. ]

vi. open | skirmish clean-up (day 5+)

[ so much for that wishful thinking. as the skirmishes continue to escalate, rey chases stories of conflict. she's tired of spending so much of her life picking off corpses like a, well, scavenger, but she does keep showing up.

at some of the damaged farms, she recognizes they're isolated enough for her to just … make the task a little easier on herself. she reaches one hand out, her forehead creasing with concentration as she reaches back onto the peace and calm urahara has taught her to … lift.

the splintered and destroyed fence beams, a few hundred pounds worth of them, start to float, collecting in the air and following the guidance of her hand into a cleaner pile. off to the side. ]

vii. wildcard (day 4+)

[ ooc; hit me up here or at protects if you want a starter of some kind. ]

weird skype date

[secondnature]

[They would be the only foreigners. The question is why they have a problem with foreigners. Wouldn't they have the same policies as the Mountain Clan? And why don't they, especially if they're not a military nation? Keith doesn't always get the political side of things. This is just another example of that.

Right now, he's leaning against a tree, looking off in the distance of the gate. That annoying gate. His lips twist downward.]

Right around when ALASTAIR got shut down, they gave me some magic—a power that could help. I can blend in. Somewhat. [To walls. Not people.] Maybe we can do something with that to get in.

Adrian "Alucard" Ţepeş | Castlevania | OTA

[reposing]

❧ brew can do it

[Honestly, Alucard has been at this for sometime, accepting samples of drinks and having a taste. There are several empty cups nearby him, yet he doesn't appear to be remotely affected in any kind of way. He is still as pale as ever, looking calm and in control of himself.]

Hm. Often, if I've had a drink of this nature, it would be red wine. I've not had something like this before.

It is pleasant.

[He has another drink, still completely sober.]


❧ in the middle of the night

[It feels like ages, but eventually the sun sinks into the horizon and the night arrives at long last. With a relieved sigh, Alucard has folded his paper umbrella, leaving tucked under an arm.

Already, he looks more lively.

Though many retire to the inns nearby, Alucard instead remains outside, looking out into the city thoughtfully. Should he notice you, he turns and says:]

Is it not late for you as well?


❧ flowerlands skirmish

[How grotesque for people to immediately feel the need to burn away their fears and hatred.

For a split second, Alucard stands before the burning building, his eyes wide. It is but a moment he is stalled, but quickly enough his eyes turn a blood red and he scowls.

He turns around to face you.]

Here. [He's holding out his impressively long blade.] Hold this. I will return.


❧ closed; for lucina

[As the meeting with Empress Nama comes to a close, Alucard lets out a soft sigh, frowning faintly to himself in thought. In his hand, he rolls his thumb over the seal of his family that he's kept with him.

He thinks very briefly of them. It cannot be for long.

The seal is pocketed, and he turns to Lucina after they have departed the palace.]

It did not seem to go poorly.

[They have a letter now, at least.]


❧ wildcard

[Please feel welcome to make your own prompt, or request one!]

brew brew brew

[healstaffs]

[ Lissa, meanwhile, is tiptoeing into the brewery for the first time, eyes wide with curiosity at the sheer variety of alcoholic drinks on display. There'd never been much time for celebratory drinks while on the long march, and even after battle Frederick had given her too many disapproving looks for her to indulge in more than a sip or two.

What a party killer.

But now Fred isn't here and there's no one to stop her, and so she enters the brewery with a spring in her step and immediately runs up to the first familiar face she sees with a smile on her face. ]

Have you tried them all yet? Which one tastes the best?

[ She'll start with that one. ]

Sieglinde Sullivan ⚗ Kuroshitsuji ⚗ OTA

[grunehexe]

01 ⚗ SEA CLAN MARKET ⚗ SCIENCE SHOPPING

[Though she has made some theoretical progress on her idea for a proper powder to replicate the one Bortz had provided a sample for, Sieglinde has yet to find the proper ingredients to test them out... which is what brings her to the fish market.]

No, no, it is a type of mollusk... the shell is white with a slight pink undertone, shiny in certain lights, with dull spikes along the curl, and the creature inside has this nail-like "foot" to it-

[Except the natives at the market are fare more interested in selling than trying to help what looks to them like a little girl find a particular type of shell, and so, shooed from the umpteeth stall, Sieglinde is all but pouting, arms crossed irritably. ... Don't suppose you've seen such a shell?]

02 ⚗ BEACH ⚗ SALT SOAK

[It's been a long time since Nalawi, since her first sight of the sea. It even seems a long time since the simulation in Oska... a world away to a girl who has begun dividing her life by "before" and "after" she'd become a murderer. But Nalawi had taught her the medical properties of a good salt soak, and so when she has the time... she takes herself down to tidepools by the beach.

She can be found apologizing to locals who want to fish in the area for taking up space, sandals set beside her and unraveled bandages piled behind her, kimono pulled up around thin knees as she slowly kicks her feet in the saltwater, staring out to sea.]

03 ⚗ ARTISAN DISTRICT ⚗ LISTENING IN

[Though she is disturbed by the goings on in the Flowerlands, Sieglinde isn't a fighter, and she knows there are those better than her suited to travel about and deal with any injuries that might crop up... so she places herself in the hustle and bustle of the artisan's district, sat upon a bench and listening to the whispers around her, the gossip regarding the Empress' announcement, the fighting in the Flowerlands...

Also stuffing her face on a particularly tasty bag of what had been to explained to her as balls of grilled batter with octopus inside. Very tasty.]

04 ⚗ SAKE BOUNTY ⚗ BREW CAN DO IT

[Now this is a task she can lend her expertise on. Sieglinde's feet dangle free from the seat she perches on, taking a sip from one of the offered sake glasses and closing her eyes for a thoughtful hum, smacking her lips just slightly before she opens her eyes again with a bit of a mouthed "ah ha" before she looks to her seat neighbor for confirmation.]

This flavor... juniper, do you think?

05 ⚗ WILDCARD

[Hit me up for a custom starter! Please feel free to PM, plurk stormcoming, or drop a comment on my plotting comment.]

SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

[predomination]

[why is no one questioning this adult man and this young girl tastetesting sake together. this seems illegal. maybe they're just so nerdy about this that there's no way it could be anything but innocent.

yeah, definitely that. NERDS.]

I think you're right. [He takes another thoughtful sip and screws up his face in consternation.] There's something else... Maybe a hint of lavender. Bit of a bold choice, but it'll make your slumber before the inevitable hangover pleasant.

Urahara Kisuke ⚛ Bleach ⚛ OTA

[predomination]

𝟶𝟷. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 | 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻

[Unless you're one of the four people who showed up early and had to camp outside the gates, chances are you haven't seen Urahara since the market attack. That's a bit odd, considering how "in your face" he generally is.

But as his guildmates begin to approach the now open gates of the sea clan empire, Urahara is seen gleefully waving at them, somehow not the least bit deterred by this setback. It was a good time for recon. Not that you'd guess he was doing that from his... everything.]

Hellooo~ It's about time you got here.


𝟶𝟸. 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 | 𝙲𝙰𝚃 𝙵𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙺𝙻𝚈

[The boardwalk might not be a place for play, but Urahara seems to be combining work with play, as some of the fisherman have noticed his fondness for the local cats and asked him, in exasperation, if he'd keep them occupied so they can focus on their work and not shooing cats away.

So we have Urahara, a bucket of fish heads, and a bunch of cats of various colors, sizes, and shapes crowded around his feet and in his lap.

You fucking thought he would have gotten over this after Terra Felis sated his cat-loving soul. You should wrong.]


𝟶𝟹. 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚢 | 𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙾'𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙻𝙴

[When the skirmishes start late that night, Urahara was actually sleeping instead of staying up all night tinkering and going over the information, so naturally when he wanders into the hall, tugging his haori on, he's looking a little more bedraggled than usual. But he's definitely wearing his hat. Does he sleep in that??

Either way, he's not moving at a speed that suggests urgency. There's a ton of people here. He doesn't have to break his back for everything.]

They couldn't have waited until morning, could they...? [He yawns.]


𝟶𝟺. 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 | 𝚂𝙺𝙸𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚂

[Despite his laconic take on the first attack, Urahara does take breaking up the skirmishes as seriously as he takes anything. It's easy for him to break up the fights, though, admittedly, not as easy to avoid outright killing them. That sets a very poor example for what they're trying to accomplish here.

But, really, they're making it very difficult. You can find him in the middle of skirmishes throughout the Flowerlands, sword out in full shikai (more for intimidation purposes than actual use- he could have easily fought them off with Benihime in her sealed form), as he keeps the ronin from one another by deflecting their blows or uses his kido to bind them while he chatters animatedly to them, despite them not being interested in anything he has to say, nor interested in chatting period.

Anyone looking to fight to kill while he's dealing with them will be met with cold hostility, but anyone else will be met with.... cheerfulness. He's enjoying himself over here.]


𝟶𝟻. 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 | 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳

[Any other prompt you can think of! Urahara will be keeping an eye on Doro and looking for further information about him, and investigating anything that might shed light on the situation, as he more and more feels that a third party is responsible for the attacks. He'll be interested in bandying theories about and putting pieces together if anyone wants to IC-ly brainstorm over some sake or cat fancying.

Hit up my plotting comment if you want a custom starter!]

02

[justbeingknife]

[ Majima had a fishing pole leaned up against his shoulder and a small pail in the other hand by the time he came across Urahara; he regarded the enclave of cats with mild curiosity. ]

[ He nodded to Urahara, who he recognized as one of the team members he'd questioned a civilian with earlier in the mission. ]

Yo. What's this, a cat convention?

Ahad | ota

[dailydouble]

i. Brew Can Do It - Worst Sake Ever Edition

[ No matter where they travel to, there's one thing Ahad is always adept at finding: businesses centered around the production and sale of fine spirits and wines. The team's time in the Empire of the Crashing Wave is no exception to the rule.

The table he sits at is littered with the detritus of many, many tastings. There's been a clear progression from the brewer's best of the season to what is decidedly not. There's mixed looks of both curiosity and horror from everyone watching, as Ahad takes a careful sip from a cup that most people wouldn't get past the smell of.

He'll hold it in his mouth for a moment, as if he's savoring the flavor profile instead of trying to convince himself to swallow... ]

Ah, well. I doubt it would kill anyone. [ There's a beat of silence, as he contemplates the cup. ] Not immediately, perhaps.

[ If there's a lurking teammate, he'll raise an eyebrow and offer the cup to them. ] Would you care to try it?

ii. Fire Rescue

[ Ahad never sleeps much during normal circumstances, and almost never during missions. He's very much awake when news of skirmishes in the Flowerlands comes in. There always seems to be more than enough teammates willing to fight, so instead Ahad focuses on those caught unawares in the middle of things. Fighting against mortals never seems quite fair, in any case.

The burning farmhouse acts rather like a beacon. While he's no god of quick rescues or fire suppression, he can step into a burning building without worrying about his own safety. ]

You would think more care would be taken with flaming arrows.

[ With that said, he'll step inside the farmhouse. ]

ii.

[selfimage]

[ there's never usually much sleeping to be done when they're on missions, the pleasure is reserved for when they head back to Headquarters, where Loki lazes around (moreso than usual) until their next mission, emptying the cellars and making pots of coffee. ]

Don't you know? Fire solves just about everything, or so I've heard.

[ it doesn't. at all. but you know. mortals seem to think that way since they got their hands on it. ]

Don't get crispy around the edges!

[ he calls after him. ]

arya stark / ota

[wolfchild]

I.  SEA

[ seated on the boardwalk, feet dangling toward the water, zokla unwraps the white paper in her lap. she picks at the sticky, sweet treat with her fingers. little fishes swim underneath. when she drops a little piece in the water, they flit toward it to gobble it.

she had not thought she had missed the salt taste of the air so much until she came close to the sea again. zokla fills her lungs with it. she left nymeria outside the city again. better while she explores. alone she can move quicker, flit through the crowds unseen.

or that was the plan. she picked up a shadow, anyway. despite the sweet in her mouth, her lips shape themselves into a scowl when she hears the footsteps behind her. a girl, not much younger than her, the daughter of one of the pearl divers. too shy to talk, but she had taken to following zokla, trying to entreat the other girl into games.

it's not going well. ]

I told you to go away!

[ the annoyed shout easily draws the attention. most ignore it: two children arguing is hardly cause for interest. the little girl is happy. she takes the opportunity to show zokla her doll. zokla's expression is that of being two seconds away from grabbing the doll and throwing it into the water.

#friendship ]

II.  LAND     ( cw: violence )

[ nymeria's howl woke her. the girl's hand was already wrapped around the pommel of her sword when the shouts made themselves known.

the direwolf does not leave her side. last time nymeria had kept her away from the fight. caught in the midst, she instead snaps at anyone who comes near. nymeria is so impressive hardly anyone takes notice of the slight shadow running beside her.

the girl flies over the ground, jumps over strewn supplies, broken parts, bodies. the blaze — and the screams that follow — whip her head around. then she is racing in that direction, pulling ahead when nymeria falls back to snarl at another enemy. the door is barred, the screams continuing inside, her little sword useless against it. but she still has her bucket and there's a well and she is charging back for water.

one of the soldiers comes at her. she can't tell from where or if it's a man or a woman. she hears a strangled shout of pain; both the sword he had raised and the arm that clutched it lie on the ground. when the head jerks up, nymeria's jaws close around it. the metal helmet dents like it had been made of clay.

water spilling over her fingers and across her feet, she runs past her wolf, past the dead soldier, past the din of shouts and metal against metal back to the blaze. ]

LAND

[boxedcrook]

[The clash on the middle ground between empires isn't anything Inuyasha hasn't seen before. More often than not, humans in the Warring States would rush each other across open rice fields, full of honor and fear, becoming skewered for their greedy lords.

Naturally, he wants to fight, but they're all basically human, and Tessaiga won't transform. It's all the hint he needs to know slaughtering them won't bring any peace of mind.

So he spends his energy and time trying to help the farmers and his teammates. Nymeria and Arya are a white, ghostly wisps amid the darkness and smoke. He yells at them above the cacophony of battle, but like apparitions, they disappear, and he lets them go.

It's later when he runs into them, as morning dawns when the lot of them are wandering around like in a daydream. His shoulder hefts the limp body of a farmer along, and he's not sure how such a big wolf is gonna react, though he carries himself like he doesn't exactly care one way or the other.] Hey!

What's the big idea getting in the middle of all that, kid?

Jason Grace | ota

[notthatjason]

I. Break It You Buy It | Artisan District
[Jason finds himself browsing stalls once again. Unlike the festival however, this feels more like a trip to a mall than a heightened celebration. There’s a lot to see and a lot going on. Jason wants to get a feel for this kingdom just like they did for the Land of Celestial Mountains. The Artisan District might not be his normal cup of tea, but there’s enough to keep his attention for a brief time, not to mention enough people to talk to that maybe he’ll find something out.

He’s currently standing near a shelf displaying various vases and dishes sculpted from ceramics. It’s a cramped space though and when someone bumps into him, Jason nearly knocks over one of the displays.]

Woah!

[He catches the vase before it can shatter. He turns to the person that bumped him, holding it up though not looking angry so much as surprised.]

I really don’t need to buy a vase today.

II. A Hot Spot | Flowerlands' Hot Spring
[While exploring both cities had been fun, Jason feels the overwhelming desire for a break and some solitude. He feels better, knowing that the empresses are at least willing to communicate with each other and that neither really wants the other to attack. However, at the same time, he can’t shake the feeling that this all went over too easily. That the small pockets of grumbling from either city was not something to dismiss. But was this enough to complete their mission? Jason isn’t sure. He decides for the time being though that he’ll take a look around the Flowerlands.

And in doing so he stumbles upon a natural hot spring in a clearing. Well, that was an interesting find. He smiles to himself, thinking of the times he’d enjoyed the bathhouses of New Rome. This place would just not let him forget his old home, no matter how much he tried.

He looks around. He doesn’t have a towel or any real bathing supplies with him. Maybe he could just dip his feet in though. As soon as the idea pops in his head, Jason plops down on a nearby rock and starts removing his shoes. He’d want to test the temperature anyway to make sure it wasn’t too hot, right?]

III. Skirmish in the Night | Lord Doro's Castle
[Jason throws the window open, his room in Doro’s castle being several stories up, and looks down on the fray. There are already signs of fire again and even from here he can see that fighters have already dropped dead in the battle. Jason frowns, thinking ‘Not again’ and then jumps out of the window. The wind carries him down to the battlefield and he’s able to stop two fighters just by the suddenness of his appearance. He just descended from the sky! No one did that.

Jason used this to his advantage, sweeping the legs out from under the first and then throwing his hand out to the second and sending him flying back with a blast of wind. The first ronin tried to get back up to fight, but Jason was already refocused on him and knocked him out with a second strike.]

Did neither of you get the news? You’re not supposed to be doing this!

[But he could tell just pushing apart two fighters wasn’t going to be enough. Jason looked out at the field of battle that stretched before him. This was not the scenario they had hoped for, but Jason would have to apparently try to drive these ronin away just as he had helped with the ambush.]

IV. Another Clean Up Job | A Farm in the Flowerlands [WARNING FOR BODIES]
[Jason does not enjoy the task set before him, but he knows it is just as necessary. He stands at the edge of what was once someone’s barn...now partially burnt and falling over. That’s not even the worse part. Located beneath the rubble are two female ronin, one bearing the armor of the sea clan and the other from the mountains. They are dead and even from here Jason can smell the partially burning flesh -- they hadn’t been completely burned though as their bodies were more or less still intact.

He’d already thrown up, so at least his stomach is empty. It isn’t that he hasn’t dealt with gruesome deaths before, but it isn’t necessarily something that gets easier. He wishes he knew the rituals for the dead that were practiced here, but the farmers hadn’t seem to interested in providing burial rights to the deceased---just get them away from the barn and help get the property back in order. Jason wipes his mouth and then pulls out a cloth from his pocket. The smell would only get worse. He didn’t bother looking at whoever had been asked by the farmers to bury the bodies.]

I’ll understand if you don’t want to help me do this, but they deserve a decent burial if nothing else.

V. Other/Wildcard
[Let me know. I’ll do it. See my plotting post if that helps.]

iv.

[kisha]

[Bodies were always a given after a battle. Hayame has seen them- bloated, rotting, burned, bleeding. When she'd been a filly, she had been horrified... until it became clear to her that horror was weakness, and the weak were made armless.

And she wouldn't be that, so she became cold instead.

Even if they were enemies... a warrior deserved a certain measure of respect. Hoofbeats signal her approach, slow, her sensitive sense of smell inundated with the scent of burnt flesh but stoically suppressing the instinct to wrinkle her nose or swallow the urge to gag.]

No- I agree.

[She was no monk, she had little but the simplest of sutras she could read for them, but she had a blade.

Which Hayame grips, thumb pressing against the hiltguard and ready to pop it from the scabbard.]

Laphicet ➼ Tales of Berseria (OTA)

[rhinostagros]

THE SEA CLAN

I. CATS

[ Laphicet never knew whether he was a dog or a cat person. Seems like he's cat person today. The cats on the boardwalk are swarming all around hm. Several tired strays nap on his lap and the lively, more active ones play around him, chasing a leaf.

As he sits with his legs folded, he casts a minor wind spell upon a leaf by chucking forward a small piece of paper imbued with his mana. It disintegrates quickly into a small gust of wind, almost like the paper wasn't even there in the first place. The leaf bounds in midair as he repeatedly casts the spell to keep it adrift. The cats are going nuts over it.

The scene might appear strange to the fisherman, especially with a strange gust of wind that kept blowing about randomly. They can't see Laphicet either. But they dismiss it as the weather being oddly windy. At least it keeps the cats occupied and happy. ]

II. FISHING

[ As much as he wants to join in on all the fishing with the rest of the fishermen, he doesn't want to risk alarming anyone the second they see a floating fishing rod. He settles for watching others fish, hovering over their shoulders and poking through their baskets to see what they caught so far. Maybe there's a species he's never seen before or even more exciting, some sort of treasure from a farther land? He hasn't spotted any of the latter yet.

Whenever any of the fishermen get a bite, he decides to contribute some extra manpower by holding onto the fishing rod. ]

Wow, good catch!

[ He expresses his excitement once the fish is successfully reeled in. Not like any of the natives can hear him... but he's happy for them anyway. ]

FLOWERLANDS

III. SKIRMISH

[ There's too much happening here. Farmhouses on fire, with people trapped inside. Warriors from both sides charging at each other, ready to kill. Laphicet looks back and forth frantically, debating how he should act.

Ultimately, he decides to take the fires out first. In the process of casting his spell, he levitates a few inches off the ground along with a ring of light glowing around him. He aims for the buildings, throwing a mana-imbued paper towards the flames in one quick swipe. The paper disperses, turning into a large orb of water that explodes in a splash as it makes contact to the burning structure.

It's not enough to take the flames out. He'll have to keep throwing out more spells if he wants to put it out entirely.

Laphicet picks an unfortunate time to glance back at the warriors fighting, seeing one of the clan members impaled by a blade. He has seen many die before, but still, he flinches at the sight.

He reaches for another sheet of paper and tosses it in the direction of the skirmish. It detonates, bursting into a strong blast of wind that sends the ronin tumbling. It's only a temporary solution to keep them apart. They'll be back on their feet again soon. He sends an audio message to the rest of the guild, via magitek: ]

Need a little more help here in the Flowerlands. Please.

WILDCARD

[ ooc: Spirit visibility rules for Laphicet are here. Feel free to come up with your own prompt or hit me up on my plotting post! PM is also fine! I'll be setting up specific closed prompts under this thread. ]

Closed to Jason (Doro's Castle - before the fire)

[rhinostagros]

[ Laphicet remains quiet for the most part while in Doro's castle. He doesn't want to distract Jason somehow by talking, not when the servants are around. Once they're guided to and left within the privacy of their own room, he lets out a sigh. Straight away, he bounds over to the bed, tossing off his bag and rolling onto the sheets. ]

Finally. I wonder if this means we'll be going back to Headquarters soon.

[ He sits up to look at Jason. ]

Oh yeah. Thanks for letting me stay with you, Jason.

[ Previous experience with trying to find lodging back with the mountain clan was a little awkward. Less awkward now with someone fully capable of seeing him. ]

fiona / open

[cachemoney]

i. BOARDWALK.

[This is about Fiona's second time ever seeing an ocean, and while she can say she's pretty much had enough for a lifetime after the Viridian Sea mission, it's nice to see it from this perspective instead of rolling around on a boat.

The electric lights are reflecting off the water, making everything all romantic and blah blah blah. Fiona's more interested in eavesdropping than on anything schmoopy, and she pauses to pretend and adjust her sandal as she listens to a nearby couple speak to each other in hushed tones.]

ii. PROCLAMATION.

[The empress has given her speech and has retreated back into the castle, leaving the citizens to talk among themselves. Some of them are excited and happy by the news, and some are upset -- there are so many people around that it's difficult to guess at a ratio, too many voices coming from all directions.

Instead of commenting on this, though, Fiona turns to the closest guildmate she can spot and says,] Is it just me or was she super hot?

iii. HOTEL.

[It's the night after the empress's proclamation, and Fiona is outside a fancy-looking hotel, talking to the proprietor. She's dressed in her nobility disguise for the occasion -- a fine silk kimono with elaborate embroidery -- and acting the part, haughtily tossing her head.]

Look, if you don't have my reservation, that just means you lost my reservation. If you don't get me a room -- at a reduced rate, because of this egregious mistake -- I'm giving this place a zero star review. And I have clout, buddy.

iv. WILDCARD.

[ hit me up with anything! fiona will be in the city during the first four days, after which she'll be in the flowerlands, so anything your heart desires is possible. if you want to discuss something with me, i'm on discord at theresa#5038 or plurk at bloodmoney ]

ii

[healstaffs]

[ Super hot? Being as ye olde as she is, it takes Lissa a moment to fully wrap her heard around the new-fangled term, and then another second to give the question its proper due. ]

She is really pretty. [ They can both agree there. ] And her hair was sooooo smooth!

[ At least from what she could see, so far away. ]

How do you think she gets it that way?

Zarya | Overwatch | open

[flexing]

[ A — town, any time ]

[ It’s early — obscenely early. No one in their right mind should be out this early.

Yet there’s Zarya, jogging along the ocean shore. Dawn is just barely brushing the Eastern sky, but she’s at it like she’s been at it for hours. And maybe she has — if she spots anyone looking like a fellow Hathaway agent she’ll change course to veer toward them, arm lifted in a full and enthusiastic wave. And she is enthusiastic, so far the only people up already have been the fishers, hauling in the night’s catches. How nice to see someone else!

Not an early riser? No problem. Zarya trains always. She can be found at various parts of a workout at various times of the day — the beach is apparently the best open space for this, but she can also be found on a pier borrowing crates for lifting weights (or borrowing a fisherwoman’s giggling children, who cling to her arms like excited monkeys), in town running up and down a set of stairs more times than should be possible, or working on a hundred or so pull ups off of a solid tree branch toward the forest’s edge.

She always has time for a fellow agent, though. All it takes is a caught glance, a purposeful-sounding footstep and her attention is quickly diverted, a welcome smile at the ready for any new company. ]

[ B — Flowerlands, any time ]

[ The ronin have been dealt with, but that doesn’t mean the fights are over. They break out suddenly and passionately, and Zarya is growing tired of them. These people have no reason to be fighting that she can see, but without a common enemy, it has been difficult to convince them of it. She’s currently elbows-deep in what she’s certain is a fight trying to brew itself, doing her best to keep the sparks from igniting. A small group of merchants and their employees are shouting, come nearly to blows with one another, and Zarya has invited herself to wrap a firm arm around the shoulders and chest of one of the angry women involved. ]

You! [ Yes, you. She nods toward the second loudest contestant, after her own captive: a mountain clan merchant, shouting about having been shortchanged and cheated, arms waving wildly. ] Hold her.

[ C — hot springs, post skirmishes ]

[ A long day deserves a good evening. A relaxing evening. And Zarya has been told of just the place. Hot springs, they said, go to soothe the body and ease the mind. The water is warm, the air is peaceful, the silence is fulfilling.

No one mentioned the nudity.

It was stupid of her not to expect that, Zarya knows that now. Stupid to assume they must have some kind of coverage to offer patrons without their own. And it’s not as if this is anything new, Zarya has spent 10 long years in close proximity to many fellow soldiers. But still. Still. She does her best to keep her gaze politely averted, and has decided that the safest place to confine it is the ground.

She makes an odd picture, an enormous, scarred, muscular mountain of a woman, a towel wrapped modestly around her bust, eyes fastened to the ground as she picks her way carefully across the hillside stone toward one of the steaming springs. The footing is tricky, the light is low, and a collision might just be imminent. ]

[ D — wildcard! ]

B

[webdesigned]

( you is not very specific, but, despite the fact Zarya deciding the spindly looking guy in nerd glasses is capable of restraining an extremely tall woman who is accusing the merchant of distributing faulty goods made by faulty and ill-trained artisans of the Mountain Clan.

turns out he is, though, and though it does come paired with a sorry, Peter does gently move her out of the way and from striking distance of Zarya's charge. )

I'm not sure holding is going to be enough on this one. ( because neither of the women are calming, even with the distance, and the crowd around them definitely seems to be rising to the heat of the argument. )

daenerys targaryen | asoiaf | ota

[conqueress]

shop attack

[ Her hair is as pale as the Empress', a merchant tells her, holding up a looking glass. No, argues another: her hair is silver, but pearls will suit her all the same. ]

No, [ she giggles, as a pearl comb is thrust before her, and waggled in tempting fingers. ] I thank you, but no. Your fine comb would only fall away in flight.

Our finest stock! [ declares a stooped old woman, already rifling through their wares to find three strands of black pearls. ] Fit for wrist or neck!

[ She turns to make her way from the stalls. Dany does not know why, but her appearance seems to have drawn hopeful vendors. One waves an elaborate pair of earrings at her, pink in color, and now they tug at her weakness, it seems: children come to block her path with open boxes and smiling faces, showing her pearls of peach and pale violet and cream. Is my face so open? she wonders, pausing to indulgently admire one ring's sheen.

(She is never leaving the market.) ]

proclamation

[ As soon as the Empress retreats and the crowd begins to disperse, Dany turns her head to listen. It is the muttering that interests her, though it's difficult to hear precise words beneath the loud cheering coming up from the crowd. ]

Half these people would sooner see war, [ she remarks to the closest person. It is not the empresses who would see the nations come to blows, it seems, but their people. As ever. The queen's brow furrows as the din fades. ] What do they say? [ she asks, curious whether your ears are sharper than her own. ]

fire and blood

[ After the first skirmish in the Flowerlands, Dany takes it upon herself to mount Drogon and scout the region. It is even lovelier from above, its colors like seas of soft paint beneath the sun. She remembers tales of the Reach's beauty from Viserys, how it is the land of summer and blooms, and imagines she is flying over her Seven Kingdoms instead.

Until she notices the movement from below: the flicker of fire arrows, the flash of steel. Drogon gives a great snort, and Dany's blood runs cold: Blood, she thinks with dread. He is drawn to battle. They are descending now, queen and dragon alike, as the ground rushes up to meet them. Dragons attack from above--

--but not now. Not whilst their mission depends on as little blood spilled as possible. ] NO! [ Dany shouts sternly, her voice carrying through the sky, digging her knees into Drogon's sides to bank him away from the people. Reluctantly, the dragon lands some yards away, his leathery wings stirring the grasses around them. Already, someone lies dead, a burning arrow embedded in an eye socket. There are bodies strewn over the grounds; these people have been fighting for some time.

It is too late to avoid fear, but she can still mitigate the circumstances, if her company is fitting. ]

That is enough! [ she cries, and Drogon joins his voice to hers in a roar, the sound sending the ground to trembling. Good luck if you're close enough to feel the wall of oppressive heat emanating from his throat: It will make you sweat from thirty feet. ]

wildcard

[ Come at me, or PM me for ideas! I'm really not picky. ]

fire and blood

[sololoquy]

[Many of the ronin in this area have already been subdued by Kylo Ren. It had become almost a relaxing process. Sneak up on a warrior, put them to sleep, and drag them off. If he could separate enough of them out, he could take one representative from each clan to interrogate after the commotion had stopped.

But just then, as he deposits the body in his arms, a dark presence tickles his awareness shortly before a great whoosh sounds overhead. He looks up just in time to see Drogon’s sharp dive toward the battle, and something in his blood runs cold. Somehow, instantly, he knows what he is looking at — and he doesn’t know what to do about it, so he simply stares like a deer in headlights.

As Dany forces the dragon to bank and land, he feels his collar get warm from the heat of dragonfire,and without thinking, he calls the lightsaber hilt from his discarded bag straight to his hand. Its dark — it would seem a trick of the eye to anyone who had not been waiting for him to do it. He doesn’t activate it, but he finds himself suddenly flooded with survival instinct.

So — this was Drogon. He hadn’t known what to expect, nor does he know what to do now that he can hear Daenerys’s commanding voice battling with the creature’s roar. The ground shakes, and he subconsciously shifts his feet, expression naked with a fearful sort of awe.

tl;dr: holy kriffing hell]

simon jarrett | SOMA | ota

[theseuschip]

i. the weight of the sea, of existence itself (day 3)

[ on one of Ophelia’s first fine evenings in the Empire of the Crashing Wave, a guy... person... thing... with robot bits just walks out of the ocean with a basket of oysters. Like super filled with oysters, and stumbles at the weight of it when he’s on land.

The ocean still sucks. When you’re underwater, you know what looks like a hostile A.I.-infected sea creature out of the corner of your eye? Literally everything, actually!! ] This better be worth it.

[ If pearls could possibly be bartering chips here, he feels obligated to use his ability to scrounge up a bunch of them. ]

ii. flowerlands, day >4, night/dawn

[ Simon can sleep, or at least perform a simulacrum of sleeping, but being a robo-monster who used to be a human with PTSD, he sucks at it. Which is annoying. Time passes like molasses when you’re just thinking about how futile your ‘prevent civil war’ mission looks.

When he paces the farmland outside Doro’s castle at night, or at the crack of dawn, ruminating uselessly, he is easily identified by the clusters of glowing blue nodes distributed randomly across his body. And the robot eyes that sometimes spook people and, in the absence of light, give the entire faceplate of the diving helmet a foggy red tint. He can’t begrudge teammates for existing in the vicinity when there’s nobody else around, but the sounds still make his heart stop and his head snaps toward anybody who gets within hearing range like a wary animal. ]

iii. doro’s castle (day >4)

[ While Simon’s feeling particularly unuseful after a skirmish has been cleaned up — he moves debris and bodies, but there are always more — he wanders Doro’s castle peering into open doors and taking stock of rooms from the outside, but trying to be subtle about it. Basically he’s casing the place. But for knowledge, and as one of the good guys. Actually, it feels kind of wrong; the guy is trusting them to stay in his castle, and is Simon really letting his entire civilized hman upbringing be stomped out by PATHOS-II?

But things are looking hopeless and he only has a hammer and what if this is a nail?

when he happens upon a teammate, he says, conversationally, ] So that looked promising for a couple of days.

iv. wildcard

[ im open to pretty much anything, throw some weird stuff at me or my plotting post is here, feel free to hit there, PM, or honchkrow for a custom starter or brainstorming or whatever thanks love you ]

ii

[justbeingknife]

Oh. I was kinda wonderin' about the glowy blue aura.

[ There was a brief flick of metal and flame as Majima lit up, slipping his lighter back in the pocket of his robe. Not too long ago, he would have been surprised to find what looked like a spooky robot wandering around outside. Now, he supposed it came with the job.

It was late; he should be sleeping. But seeing as how that wasn't going to happen, investigating weird lights seemed like a decent way to kill time. ]

Don't think I've had the pleasure. I'm Majima.

giorno giovanna | ota

[digiorno]

i. let's grease the wheel over tea ( shore )

[The beach is powerful, Giorno has discovered. The smell of the sea and the taste of salt in the air, the grit of sand mixed with earth under his shoes: it's powerfully nostalgic. The moment he gets close enough to the shore to really feel it, he's overcome with homesickness--not in the normal way, where it really does feel like he's a little sick to his stomach. Instead, he feels a bit giddy in a way he knows isn't rational. He can't really fault himself for it, though. Honestly he can't.]

[It would be a little much to take his shoes off and walk in the surf, as much as he'd like to, as much as the water is practically calling out for it. Besides, this is a place where people are working, just like Napoli only more so. There are fishing boats everywhere. This is the epitome of a coastal city.]

[So he restrains himself. Instead of throwing his shoes off like a lunatic, he walks and people-watches, smiling faintly at the couples strolling by and the companionably-bickering older people, bartering just because they like to. It isn't long, though, before he catches sight of . . . cats. The cats following the fishermen, hoping eternally for fish scraps. His eyes alight on the cats with a truly ridiculous amount of delight.]

We should feed them.

[Insistent. As if stating fact, rather than a possibility. Or maybe you find him already crouched on the boardwalk, holding out a piece of raw fish in his fingers like it's no big deal while a cat sniffs the air from a few feet away.]

ii. let's discuss things in confidence ( post-battle )

[It's always a judgment call, deciding whether to head to the front and fight or stay back and heal. This time, though, the decision was sort of made for him; the shock of the battle in the middle of the night left casualties before anyone even really knew what was going on, and his skills were needed.]

[So by the time the battle is over, Giorno's been fixing people up for a while now. His lips are pressed tight, expression severe and serious in a way totally divorced from the Extreme Cat Enthusiast of the beach.]

So infuriating, [he mutters to himself, setting another bone by laying on of hands, then rubbing his temple with the heel of his palm.] You'd think it would be common sense to not go out of your way to kill each other-- You!

[Yes, you. Accusing stare.]

Have you been checked out yet? If you've got some gaping arrow wound or something and you're trying to tough it out, I'll scream. Get over here.

iii. let's be outspoken ( patrolling )

[Okay: so maybe Giorno's overextending himself with the patrolling thing. Maybe. But, look, the way he justifies it to himself is that he's offense, defense, and healer, so who cares if he spreads himself a little thin? He's valuable, so it's necessary--a thin veneer of narcissism spread over genuine, nearly obsessive concern for his teammates and the people of Hanabira. Even if he's sort of mad at them right now.]

[And even overextending himself, he knows to take breaks. Well, that's a lie: he knows that other people have to take breaks, so he makes his patrolling party stop, rest, and eat halfway through their sweep. He does this bossily. Very bossily.]

[Fortunately, it's also a good time to share information that it would be bad to chat about while actively moving. Once the perimeter of their rest area has been secured, he allows himself to relax very, very slightly and stretches his limbs as best he can while keeping his head on a swivel.]

See anything odd out there?

[And can he punch it.]

iv. let's be ridiculous ( wildcard )

[Hit me with anything else or PM me for a specific toplevel!]

ii. how dare u call her out like this

[kisha]

[Hayame dislikes healers. At least, she dislikes the sort she has met with ALASTAIR, now Hathaway, who did some sort of spiritual magicking that made her feel as if their very essence was invading her body, made her want to shuck her own skin if she only could to escape it.

And yet people walked about having such things done to him as if it were normal and fine. Where were the people with poultices, bandages, and ointments?

Which is why she had planned to dodge around the area Giorno has set up in, but he still catches her, still calls for her to stop and... threatens to scream.]

Lay your hands upon someone weeping. I am sure you can find one.

[Thankfully, the burn across her arm and the shallow slash on one of her hocks are on the other side of her body, not so visible from where she stands beyond how she avoids putting all her weight on one of her back legs.]

OTA

[moneyballer]

I. ALL THAT GLITTERS TURNS TO- (DORO'S CASTLE)

[The halls of the castle should feel comfortable, or at least, more well-suited to a man of more refined tastes.

And yet something about the air of elegance around him is stifling, the high walls a reminder of another life and painful memories, of china so pretty and furnishing so nice that the cold words exchanged among them are almost possible to ignore.

Asher has been able to distract himself with so-called subterfuge and mulling about, but alone with just his thoughts this idle afternoon, he is forced to finally confront the insecurities that have been welling up inside of him.]

God.

[His plan to be of some use has gone to waste, nay, gone down in flames, and he has not even secured a specialty that would guarantee his potential as a lawyer, a leader, or an anything that matters-]

Am I ever gonna stop bein' such a loser?

[Muttered under his breath, while rubbing his temple with a stray hand.]

II. MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN (FLOWERLANDS)

[A fight breaks out nearby and he is compelled to step into the fray, stupid as it may be.

By the time he reaches the nearest farmhouse, it has already been set ablaze, the air thick with smog and the smell of charred wood. Asher pulls the hem of his robe up and over his mouth in a piteous attempt to keep his lungs from filling with tar, eyes wet from irritation. Still, he continues to survey the area with one free hand clutching a knife in case he is attacked by an intruder, although there are no ronin left in this area for the time being.

For a few minutes he wanders uselessly, passed once or twice by some stray cattle that has gotten loose, doing his best to spot anything or anyone in need of assistance. Combat is no longer a weakness of his, though he certainly is no match for a clan of warriors, and so he trudges forward, suddenly stubbing his toe on what looks to be an ashy pile of rubble-]

Ow! God, trees can be such dicks sometimes, even when they're super dead-

[But as soon as his shoe brushes a dark pile of wood aside, he spots a set of fingers, the nails and skin black with soot.]

Oh no.

[Asher kneels immediately.]

No, no, no, no-

[And begins to toss the rubble to his right.]

II.

[ofobedience]

[Giovanni, of course, has been in the thick of the fray, the heat of the battle singing in his blood, pumping bright and fierce through his veins, and whilst he'd mostly managed to tow the party line on this particular occasion - disable, don't kill - it's still there in him. The need for more. The desire to keep fighting.

That's why he's come back this way. Prowling about, looking for stragglers or perhaps even reserves, waiting to form a second wave of attack once the first had ridden it's course. One can live in hope, right?

Instead what he finds is Asher frantically scrabbling at the ground, and with predatory grace he stalks on over to him. Observes through the red glitter of his eyes.]

What are you doing?

[He sees the soot-blackened fingers. Doesn't seem particularly concerned.]

Luke Skywalker | Star Wars | ota

[likemyfatherbeforeme]

1. Beach (and a cat)

[ You’d think that Luke would be used to the ocean by now.

You’d be wrong.

No matter how many oceans he might visit, there is a part of him that continues to be amazed by the sight of so much water. It’s humbling. There was a time in his life when he didn’t think there was that much water in the whole galaxy. It’s a wonder, the sort of thing that should be impossible, yet just how normal it all is to those who had grown up with it never fails to amaze him. He may never get tired of watching it or the people who work with it.

That’s what he’s doing now, sitting on the hill of an old fishing boat overturned in the sand and half-listening to a few fishermen discuss the day’s haul as they repair their nets. He’s watching the water, not his immediate surroundings, so the sudden arrival of an animal at his side catches him off guard. It’s small and furry, a bit like a tooka, and it’s looking up at him expectantly. A little too expectantly. ]

I don’t have any food.

[ But it seems reasoning with it won’t work. Instead the creature only yowls at him and butts its head against his arm in an entitled sort of way. ]

Really. Go on. Get. Go back to wherever... things like you go.

2. Artisan District (and a question)

[ He's been in places similar enough to this before -desert scrap meets near Anchorhead, backwater alien marketplaces, exotic Mid Rim commercial districts- this one is different though. The people here take such pride in their artistry, and it’s entirely justified, but Luke can feel his lack of knowledge and he knows he’s being judged for it. He doesn’t know the meaning behind the symbols, the uses of the tools, the histories of the songs. He only knows he likes them, but is it enough?

He wants to take his time, to slow down and try to take in as much of it as possible, even if the people here seem a little less than keen on his doing so. A large part of it likely comes down to the rather shabby clothing he’s wearing. Places like this are for buying and judging solely by looks it’s clear that Luke isn’t really going to be doing much of that. No one looks ready to bully him out of the area like in the Mountain Clan’s noble district, but no one seems to be set on giving him the best window shopping experience either.

Not that Luke apparently minds much. He’s stopped at a shop selling painted images right now, listening as the shopkeeper pompously tells him of the history of the art form, the importance of individual lines, the influences and inspirations behind it. ]

Yes. But what is it a picture of?

3. Skirmish (and an unwelcome flashback)

[ It’s not a fair fight, not for the people caught in the middle. They’re the ones that Luke finds himself instinctively turning towards, even in the commotion of the battle. He can see the fire, he can feel the heat, he can hear the awful tearing sound it makes, a woman is screaming, and immediately his mind is back on Tatooine. He wasn’t quick enough then, but it will be different now.

He rushes towards the farm, dodging warriors of all varieties -Mountain Clan, Sea Clan, and Hathaway- as he fights to get to the fire. One of the ronin rears up out of the darkness, swinging a sword for his head, but the blow never lands. Instead the sword is sent spinning into the distance. The woman stares at her hands for a moment, confused by the sudden lack of a weapon, but just as suddenly she goes violently flying in the opposite direction. Luke barely even blinks, not registering the event at all, as he keeps running to the farmstead, driven by fear and angry memories. This time he won’t be too late. ]

4. Clean-up (and the flashback strikes back)

[ The farmhouse has largely burned to the ground in the wake of yet another skirmish. Dead animals lie scattered around it, fields are trampled, fences and outbuildings smashed, but nothing seems to have been deliberate. No one cared about these people. They were just in the way.

Luke found a girl not much younger than him filling in holes on the property as he was passing by. Two long and two short. She wordlessly accepted his offer of help and ended up staying for a few hours, moving on to new tasks when she happens to ask him to and otherwise staying useful and quiet in the background. He knows better than to ask what the holes had been for.

By the time he leaves, his face and clothes are covered with ash. The scent of ruin clings to him, caught in his hair, lodged in his throat and nostrils, burning his eyes. He’s heard there are hot springs nearby, but they aren't close enough. Instead he stops at the first stream he comes across and immediately plunges his arms in, scrubbing his hands violently even as they shake a bit, his expression closed off and his eyes far, far away. ]

5. Wildcard

[ none of these working for you? hit me with a pm and we can come up with something else. also holy crud I did not intend for it to be a novel length comment sorry ]

3, just as planned sort of

[justbeingknife]

[ There was someone else blazing his way in the direction of the farm -- someone who definitely wasn't expecting having to duck under a flying ronin while he was at it. Majima registered the curly blond mop before anything else.

Luke, the guy he'd run into before.

A woman was rushing to block his path, katana already mid-swing. Majima lashed out with a whisper-quick stab of his tantō. He barely broke stride; the ronin was left to drop her sword and fall to her knees, clutching at her hand in sudden agony. She'd be able to use her sword hand again... but not anytime soon. ]

It's me!

[ He called, mostly because he knew that on this battlefield, he didn't look much different from the Hanabirans. ]

poe dameron | star wars | ota

[followhim]

one: beach

[poe is much more about the sea clan aesthetic in general than that weird mountain crap. the ocean is great, even if it's not as great as space, there's a vast openness to it that makes him just want to sit on the boardwalk and stare for awhile. like, this is almost home.

but sitting and staring gets boring, and he's been having a Rough Time with literally any and everything — still thinking about stuff back home AND burning bridges here after literally two weeks — so, he starts helping fisherman haul in their catches for the low low price of telling him stories about being out at sea. it's so cool. still not space but he's into it. ]

two: breweries

[so, sure, whatever mind reading torture bullshit kylo ren did helped keep the peace. good. great. everything in his life is totally fine and he doesn't have complex emotions towards anyone who is supposed to be his friend. he's already brew can do-ing it in another thread so he's not going in for seconds on that particular journey. let's not angry drink with squid ink sake or whatever the hell. give him the good shit. don't approach him unless you're ready for A Mood.]

three: skirmishes

[ well … he did say that he was more into the part where they keep the two clans from killing each other than the peacemaking part (which he made a vague attempt to understand in his network post and got basically nowhere with.) and now, here it is. his time to shine. he found another stick (or maybe it's the same stick he found after the ambush) that's roughly the same size as a staff, and he's here to break some shit up. by cold clocking people in the head with it. that's what's up. that's the plan. feel free to run into him during a skirmish or in the aftermath, where he will be around picking stuff up. he's out, he's about, he's around.]

four: wildcard

[or literally like anything else you can think of, feel free to pm me or hit me up on plurk (ruthnor)! ]

three!!

[pummelling]

So truces, huh.

[--says Jin, after the really cool fight scene that totally absolutely just happened. Flowerlands farmers are dragging away the cold-clocked rebels to be shipped ignobly back home; he's restless and looking for any kind of conversation while he's gathering his arrows back up.]

That sure worked out great, didn't it.

shouta aizawa | mha | open

[eyedrop]

i. proclamation;

[ Aizawa's in the crowd when Empress Youmi makes her declaration, hunched over and unobtrusive, his thumbs hooked into the white sash around his waist. While Youmi's statement is a relief, he doesn't miss the rumble of discontent that immediately follows. Not surprising. Official support for peace had been their goal, and while they had secured it for now, the problem ran deeper than that. These were people not merely of separate kingdoms, but separate realities. Expecting a quick fix was foolish.

Still, it's a start.

He mumbles into his scarf, just audible enough for passers by to hear. ]

I wonder what was in that other letter.

ii. feeding time;

[ Aizawa's sitting on one of the docks, legs dangling over the edge, fishing pole in hand. He wears a straw hat to keep off the sun, and between the hat and his scarf, his face is even more obscured than usual. The scarf shifts slightly against his neck, as though there's something moving around in it (and meowing softly). Cats cluster around him, some in his lap, some pressed against his legs, all pawing at his fishing line. Every time he catches something, he tosses it to them, and a little frenzy ensues.

He glances up at anyone coming his way, and produces from his sleeve a stick tied with string. ]

Hey. I need a hand.

iii. skirmishes;

[ The fight was ten on three, with the numbers favoring the mountain clan. They had found each other while crossing an expanse of fields meant for farming, and now the trenches were spoiled, greasy with bodies and tinged red from their wounds. Arrows pockmarked the soil, and the crops were disturbed, torn apart and made unfit for anything but a bonfire. Aizawa had run into the fray with a flash of memory haunting him--he was not well suited to taking on large groups all at once, but he's a man who does what he has to.

And, as before, he holds his own, at least for a while. By the time anyone else shows up, he's doing his best to keep the remaining fighters--one from the sea clan, three from the mountain clan--subdued, but he's bleeding from his own injuries (a gash in his side, an arrow wound in his shoulder), and his capture weapon is stretched to its limit, keeping these four people restrained.

(The rest either fled, or, much to his guilty dismay, didn't survive.)

He grits his teeth, his face slick with perspiration, his hair stuck to the back of his neck. He needs help. ]

Here! Over here!

iv. brew can do it;

[ A reward for drinking? Sure, he'll take that. Between teaching and hero work, he rarely has time for leisure activity--which, when he does have time, means an evening at the bar. So he's ably taking whatever the breweries have to offer, though he rejects anything that's too floral or fruity in its finish. ]

Cherry vanilla ... no thanks.

[ He takes a sip of the next one, shutting one eye as he lets the liquid sit on his tongue. ]

Hmm. Celery? Elderflower, dill, and ... lemon.

[ It's extremely bitter, savory and dry, but he likes it. He nudges a fresh cup across the table. ]

Go on. It's brisk.

[ However, if your character is visibly too young to drink, he will snatch that cup back SO FAST. ]

v. wildcard;

[ he'll be slouching around all over the place, so if these don't suit, we can go for whatever else! ]

iii.

[reposing]

[Alucard had just finished escorting some of the natives of the Flowerlands out of a burning barn, his flesh forming back together from where he'd endured burns. It'll pass and heal; he has more important matters to focus on.

Such as Aizawa's shout.

The dhampir moves swiftly, his eyes glowing red as he charges in. It would be easy to kill them and end this pointless fight. It isn't the possibility that Aizawa's disappointment that causes him restraint.

It is something else.

As he rushes in, wounds still mending visibly, his hair a glorious mess, Alucard slams his fist into the back of one of the warrior's heads, and she drops like a rock to the ground. Unconscious, not dead.]

I have them, Aizawa.

kylo ren | star wars | ota

[sololoquy]

i. beach [open to all]

[There's something about the beach draws him -- something distant that he can't put his finger on. Granted, he doesn't bother to give it too much thought. After all the time he'd been stuck on a space station or some sort of spacecraft, some natural beauty wasn't completely unwelcome.

Not that he'll ever admit that, standing at the water's edge.

Black wasn't a favorite color as it turned out, so he was uncharacteristically dressed in darker reds that somehow make him look even more pale than usual. It causes him to stand out amidst all the blue -- he would have to find a change of clothes later. He could feel the eyes of everyone upon him, even if he wasn't listening to what they were saying.

Eventually, he retreats from the water's edge, and his pace is leisurely down the boardwalk. He only stops when a black cat happens to cross his path, and sits to his left. From there, a staring contest begins -- and its intense, like they have a personal vendetta against each other.]

ii. artisan district [first 2 replies]

[In a rare sight, Kylo Ren has managed to comb his hair back out of his eyes before entering the market. He'd decided upon entry that he would need a new outfit -- not just because he couldn't keep washing the same one by hand, but because it stood out just a bit too much. The armored bracers he had purchased weren't enough to get the point across. Unfortunately, the colors of the sea aren't really his aesthetic, judging by the way he struggles through various stalls.

Still, as frustrating as the escapade was, it was still better than anything he'd had to do in the mountain clan's territory. Here, he feels less stifled by the stares he gets -- but its still a lot of people staring at the giant pasty dude pawing his way through racks of clothes. They all kind of look the same to him.

So, stumped, he glances around for someone who might know better.]

iii. sake [open to all]

[The brewmaster's pitch had been an easy one to accept. Even if it was just a taste test, Kylo Ren was bound to stay longer and spend some coin on his favorite of the bunch. Blanking out for an hour or more seems like a good idea. (Its not)

He can be found sequestered at his own table, half way through a bottle he's been given to test. Was he supposed to test the whole bottle? Probably not. But that's what he's doing.

Its the laziest he's ever managed to look, using the wall to support his weight on the stool instead of the table with sunken eyes half drawn -- at least, until something tickles the edge of his consciousness and the Force. Expectant, he lifts his head to meet the eyes of whomever happens to have glanced his way, and then reaches over to tap the table to invite them over.]

iv. skirmishes [closed; plot here first]

[Whenever the commotion starts, Kylo Ren is ready to go. His lightsaber is cleverly hidden between layers of cloth (hooked to his belt), but he doesn't need it for this. These ronin might have been warriors, but they were still only human, and he had an unfair advantage.

Its almost admirable, the way he inserts himself between brawlers, until they seem to mysteriously drop into slumber once he gets a hand on their heads. But every now and then, he'll find a stronger willed warrior that is too much trouble to bother with the Force, and that is when he starts throwing punches in a fever.

He's a little intense. It ramps up, until it becomes clear that if someone doesn't stop him, he might kill one of these people.

What will you do?]

v. wildcard [open to all]

[Feel free to make magic happen! If you want something specific, hit me up here.]

iii

[forcevisions]

[ rey feels … disoriented.

suddenly isn't the right word for how it comes on, but it's suddenly enough for her to notice the gross disparity in how she'd felt before. more like slipping into water. quick but gradual. she nearly walks into a food cart on the boardwalk before she grabs onto the edge of it. the attendant to the cart yells at her for it.

she nods her understanding slowly, as if in a slight daze, and pushes away, slipping down to the stairs that wind around towards the beach, one hand on the rail the whole time, and grabbing a seat on one of them while her head swims. that's when she hears a tap out of the edge of her awareness and—

ben. she can't see what's around him, but there's no question that this is something to do with the bond. she's grumbling when she asks, ]

What did you do?

[ sorry, kylo. she's not a Real Person you can invite over to your table. so that's gonna make you look weird. ]

Thrawn | OTA

[mitthrawnaruto]

I: THE SKIRMISH

[The scent of smoke clings thick in the air, and it's cloying, choking. Between measured inhales, the heavy clang of wood slamming soundly into metal can be heard as Thrawn darts away from hateful blows against a backdrop of boiling embers. In his hand is a wooden short staff with a metal trowel at one end, one of the kusakichi nejiri tools borrowed from the farmhouse's exterior: its edges raw from being wedged against swung blades at odd angles when he lacks enough room to retreat away from the two ronin flanking him on either side. Nicked and battered, but not yet injured.

And then, with a short snap, Thrawn lunges forward in a sudden turn of events— his forearm wraps tight around the nearest ronin's throat, cinching shut the distance between them. A handful of seconds is all it should take for a lack of oxygen to put the insurgent to sleep—

But the second combatant is still there.

She smartly goes for the flask tied to her hip, throwing it full-force at Thrawn and his opposing captive— pottery shattering on impact across the bridge of his nose (and the side of the first ronin's cheek). It's the heat, or the embers drifting from the fire, that splash of alcohol briefly catching in a short burst of flame as Thrawn reels back with a pained snarl, forearm tamped down across his eyes, exhaling sharply—]

II: INTERROGATION (closed to Kylo Ren)

[There's a stark streak of vicious purple running in a line across his face like a scorched mask, bloodied cuts peppering his skin, though aside from the way he keeps his glowing eyes lidded, Thrawn seems decidedly focused. Functional, if not agitated. The way a wounded animal might pace in restless frustration.]

We cannot kill them.

[It is not a discussion. Not a debate, or a soft suggestion: his voice is firm as he gingerly touches the back of his hand to his wounded brow, checking for the tacky dampness of blood. The fighting has died down along with the remaining fire, and Lord Doro is being tended to in another portion of the palace. What remains to be dealt with is the ronin secured in the fray, and any that might yet be lurking outside. He can't quite make out silhouette of the person approaching, but he can hear the heavy set of their footsteps.

And he does not like the tension that lingers in their stride.]

III: STEMMING THE TIDE

[The skirmishes continue. Like a struck vein, it sparks up again between the clans' wayward forces, and it goes without saying that Thrawn feels obligated to intervene as often as he's able to ('able' being the key word: the Flowerlands are broad, after all).

This time he's spotted a small cluster of Sea Clan ronin that seem to be moving with purpose towards a nearby village— and you? You were the only other conscript that happened to be near enough to rope into this military crawl through the long grass in their wake. He keeps his head low, his posture like a cat on the prowl, all the tension wound up in the joints of his fingers and toes.]

We will need a distraction.

[Sooner, rather than later. The village is nearer to the trade routes of the Mountain Clan, and a confrontation seems entirely likely if something isn't done about it.]

IV: ENDS, WAYS, MEANS, RISK

[At last, he's returned to the Artisan District. Dressed in the noble's finery he'd procured from the Celestial Mountains, seated at a richly decorated garden terrace, Thrawn strains to brush a few strokes of Sy Bisti writing along the lip of a porcelain cup in vibrant blue paint. His eyesight is still...strained, though well-recovered by now; his face still marked with a few healing burns and cuts.

The fighting has not stopped, the people are uneasy.

Yet here he is, painting. Pensive.

Alone.]

[ooc: Something else you want to do? Feel like something more specific? I have a plotting post up over here, and my plurk is ladyavali— hit me up!]

ENDS i'm WAYS sorry MEANS thrawn RISK

[boxedcrook]

[It's amazing that the table doesn't split down the middle when Inuyasha suddenly drops the fifty pound bag of dry rice onto it. Fortunately, the table does little else besides give a sharp, horrified squeal of wood.

Being barefoot (and likely demon) gave him the chance to quietly come up from behind, and sorrow to the fragile cup Thrawn was painting when he did. It hadn't been hard to spot Thrawn from the street, and he's been boxed into delivery.

Not the rice.] Don't you have something better to do?

Here. [He holds out a softly waxed, linen pouch in the palm of a clawed hand. The ears on his head twist back, exasperated.] It's for your face.

Scott Summers | Marvel Comics | OTA & closed

[evenslimmer]

BEACH PARTY [OTA]
[ OK, so Scott Summers is the last person anyone would expect to throw a beach party. Or relax, period. But if he's technically doing reconaissance at the same time, then he can also have fun. Right?

At night, when all the fishermen have gone home and no one's around to impose irritating social norms...just because all his friends think he's a stuffy preppy Boy Scout doesn't mean he has to be. Late at night, Scott sneaks back down to the beach with his X-Men uniform hidden under his "blending in" clothes, strips off all the layers until he's standing in the sand in his (admittedly very form-fitting) blue-black pants...and goes for a swim. Leaving a pile of clothes, a bag of stuff, and his red shades on the beach.

He can't be the only person in "fuck it" mode right now, can he? ]

FLOWERLANDS [OTA]
a) chilling (sorta)
[ Awhile back, a very clever supervillainess gave him some very practical advice— take notes. On everything. Everything he notices about people, the places he's been, clues and tactical meanderings until all the pieces come together. Even though she'd lied straight to his face, wisdom comes from the strangest places, and Scott would be the first to admit that it'd been a good idea. So as soon as they head down to the sea, and then start migrating towards Doro's castle, he scrounges together some paper and something to write with and goes exploring among the terraces. Working out his own suspicions, scribbling diagrams and considering all the possibilities.

Eventually someone's bound to come across him, deep in thought. While he's pondering a question— ]

So, from a martial tactics perspective...it seems like there's more benefit to holding the Flowerlands if you come from the coast. [ But then— ] But domestically, agriculturally, it might be more valuable to the mountains.

[ He turns around a little to see who's there. ]

What do you think?

b) practicing
[ All these wide open spaces don't lend themselves well to large-scale practicing with Scott's powers. But somewhere out there, behind a convenient hill, there's a great spot to set up a little target range. Just something to keep him physically occupied for awhile while he thinks about other things.

An assembled line of garbage, pots and bottles and whatnot, perched at different levels along the hill and on rocks or, in one case, an overturned crate, and a few sundry vertical surfaces. Scott perches on a rock and idly practices bouncing his optic blasts around, little flashes of red that don't show up too bright in the midday sun until you get near him. He fiddles with the visor's aperture: a burst no wider than a dime abruptly shatters one of the pots. ]

That's not right—

DORO'S CASTLE- skirmish
[ After the festival, it seemed inevitable that there'd be another round of clashes. It'd only been a question of whether or not it'd be here or down by the sea. The sound of swordplay's only too familiar— Scott's up and jamming his visor onto his face and bounding out the door before he can think about a) putting on his shoes, or b) putting on his shirt.

But it means he's there in time to catch two armed warriors chasing someone straight in his direction, and it only takes a second to reach up, to yell out— ]

Get down!

[ Before the room lights up scarlet and rings with the clatter of swords dropping to the floor, and two people in armor getting optic blasted back into a wall.

He's not keeping too close an eye on his peripheral, though. Or what might be coming from behind. ]


CAMPING- post skirmish [closed to Jason Grace]
[ There's a paranoia that never quite leaves any mutant: the lingering shadow of knowledge that the crowd that applauds your heroics might also one day be cheering at your execution. On top of Scott's usual paranoia, which isn't ill-founded, but also sometimes leaves him self-isolating when he doesn't need to, just in case other people feel about his powers the way he feels about them. Having visibly shown off the fact that he possesses what most people would call "eye lasers" in a land where a) people don't have powers, and b) the powers he's seen out of other people don't look half as menacing as his own.

He doesn't go too far. Just far enough that he can keep an eye on the whole castle/raid situation and get down there if necessary, without being a potentially-unwelcome presence. Time to put that Boy Scout training to work! If he'd been a Boy Scout. If he could get this little fire to start. Too chilly not to have one, even though Scott worries it might make people think he's a raider. Even though he's sitting there in a sci-fi visor, clearly looking like a tourist. ]

BEACH PARTY

[justbeingknife]

[ Majima wasn't swimming, but there was a low pier that extended out into the water -- perfect for an impromptu fishing spot, now that the locals had cleared out. He'd cast his line and now looked over his shoulder as he spotted a teammate.

A single cat, orange and white and probably a stray, curled around his feet. ]

How's the water?