oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-10-06 01:15 pm

MOD EVENT #001

A CHAOTIC RESPITE


It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.

On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...

“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”


...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?

► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)
When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.

“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition. It's the absence of the lantern that is contributing to the wood’s unusually active malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”


So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.

It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.

► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.

No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.

Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you:
I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?


If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.

the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail.
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.
.


► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME
Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.

Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.

“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”


And without further ado, let the festivities begin!

► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.

► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.
Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.
Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.
. ► HARVEST HUNT
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.

► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.

► III. WAYWARD SUN
The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.


ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
For a little spooky ambience in the woods.

damnpire: (pic#15956285)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[that's exactly what it's like actually...

Please believe a little more in D and his ability to not bat an eyelash at anything; not Yoo Joonghyuk, not roaring hungry evil houses, not woods being alive, not a sexy Puck, not even naked women.]


Then Puck needs to be silenced.

[He does not say they should kill the Puck necessarily, but he also... doesn't say... they shouldn't.]
janescayre: (156)

More blood and player approved injury, just look away

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-20 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[And down they go! Bodies entwined and a new stream of blood painting his pale skin, it's so scandalous, Syo's still cackling hard. She hasn't felt this high in years.

It's like he's playing direct into her hands. They're flip-flopping around, who's on top? Who's on bottom! Her back cracks against the ground with a finality once the inertia stops them dead, his heavy weight the victor. She doesn't mind. Her mirth tapers to a low purr and she arches her back, rolling her hips against his middle. Anyone walking in might mistake the struggle for something else entirely.

An illusion shattered as she slashes his shoulder. The fabric curls and splits. Blood spurts anew. It's a slice, not a stab. A surface blow made for aesthetics, followed by another dash to his ribs.

She can't kill him.

w̘̼̪h̻̼̙y̢͕͖ n̡͇͖o̞̘t̡̫͎?͙͕

She's still loyal.

m͕̪̼a̠͓k̢̠̠e͎̞͜ h̞͉͎i̞̝̞m͙̦̝ y̞̼͜o͎̙͚u͎̙̻r̘̟͓s̫͍̟.̢͙͓

Just let her savour this night. His blood, his screams, the pin-prick fear in his eyes. Heat pools in the cradle of her hips and her chest heaves, she wets her lips. Her cheeks have flushed like a maiden ravished. She snatches his hair with her free hand and licks his face, right where his pretty skin has split at the temple. His blood is hot on the tongue.

There's no pleasure on Earth quite like it.]
damnpire: (pic#15946975)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
It is.

[That is all he gives. He is young and beautiful, but his eyes are extremely old, so perhaps it isn't too presumptuous to wonder if he lives forever or drinks human blood.]

I plan to go back and look around. [His eyes watchfully settle on Sasuke for a moment.] We don't know if it's something that can be caught. It won't hurt to rest while waiting to see if it'll come again. You're very strong, but your strength needs to return if you are going to fight it a second time.

[If Sasuke thought D would try to stop some perceived foolhardy battle, he would be wrong. But he will be pragmatic about the possible future encounter.]

What did your eyes see?
damnpire: (pic#15956292)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 05:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sometimes the sole job of nice cloth is to buffer bleeding and wounds. It's fine...]

We can look again as we walk back. There is not point in pretending as if she couldn't be one of the victims.

[He's.... so clinical and pragmatic, help. But his voice isn't mean, or blunt, but gentle as usual.]

What did you think about her after you spoke with her?
damnpire: (pic#12040373)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 05:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[Aspen really threw away the reservations so quickly in favor of headbutting a pair of edgy, leather-clad tiddies.]

Yes. [ASPEN.] They were trying to take you to the Forges?
damnpire: (pic#15946974)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 06:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Ascension.

[He's not sure whether the gossip reminds him of a Rapture or a return home. Maybe instead of being gnawed and ripped apart by rolling, tumultuous darkness, the other thing that awaits them is being eviscerated by a grand, celestial array of light.]

People walking with a God would tell you those are the times when you need theology the most.

[He doesn't know what kind of business, sure, but he knows Silco is probably not a man who spends time spinning kids on a merry-go-round.]

What do you plan to do?

[Now that Silco is "dead" without any of the former worries. Supposedly.]
damnpire: (pic#15946972)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[why do you think he has a nice butt, yaywon??? what about him makes you think this at all, please look at him. it's probably a raisin.

He turns the apple around and glances at it, and then he looks at Sooyoung as he tosses it back. Gently, underhanded.]


Thank you, but I'm not hungry.
sonofrome: (Alright then.)

Knock on Wood

[personal profile] sonofrome 2022-10-20 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Ledo Puck - Latin (Hit the Puck- English)

Marius heard about the mysterious cornu/Latin, (Lantern) and was cautious to take the mission alone, thinking going as a team was a smarter attempt.

The lingering echoes of the voice of Marius’s shadow made it well known that it was not a smart idea to go alone on this mission without someone.

“Insipiens, tu tantum te occiderunt ibi!”
Fool, you will only get yourself killed out there!
Relinquetur vobis domus tua mori!
You left your family to die!

The other Latin quotes left to translate into guilty thoughts in Marius’s head replayed and echoed like a broken record.

The relentless harpies stare over him as they stifle a smirk.

But Marius is not focused on that but a melody through, the wind picking up.

The Roman Centurion looks over at Puck, eying him every so often, not trusting him in the slightest

“Come on, I’m waiting. Facere! (Do it!) Nobody will miss him. just like yourself.”

The solider carries on and ignores the heckling of the harpies and the voice of his shadow.

“Give me the damn thing.” He mutters in Latin.
Edited 2022-10-20 18:43 (UTC)
redsoil: — PLEASE CREDIT! (Default)

[personal profile] redsoil 2022-10-20 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course you're not.

[ If there is one thing that remains consistent about his nature, it is that he is not given to holding his tongue when he ought to be more circumspect about what he says. He is a reckless, brash god that prefers throwing himself into action - regardless of consequences or complications that will arrive from it. Parties are all about socializing, about bending ears and saying the right things to the right people, and he is an island of scarlet prickliness right in the midst of it all. Except.

Except, when Rudbeckia draws near. Whether she is familiar or something else, his prickliness lapses into a more subdued thing, an overlarge cat with a swaying tail that might be mistaken for something domestic were it not for the hook of his teeth, his claws. His contemptuous glowering, daring someone to try to make contact. He's quiet with her, the way he quiets around Jonas, around D, around Dimitri. A trio of souls he includes her in as nebulous property, as he cannot take them under his banner in good consciousness -- or at all, really. ]


I would rather not be in the middle of a crowd. Everything smells.

[ He has a nose like a bloodhound, and there is so much mortal warmth suddenly leeching into him. He doesn't seize at Rudbeckia, instead selecting a direction ( right, towards the bowers and hedges and small gardens that have been grown in preparation for the festivities ) and marching off towards her. As if there's no doubt in his mind that she'll follow.

( Thank goodness she didn't offer sympathies. He'd have rejected them with prejudice. ) ]
zangetsu: (pic#15910572)

[personal profile] zangetsu 2022-10-20 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
he lands in a solid pile, ass over teakettle as he groans and puts a hand to his head. it's a harder landing than he's used to, the pale flicker of gathered reishi barely enough to slow him down from a rather meteoric descent.

he's landed in a garbage pile, which is probably better than the hard cobblestone — and he's just staggering back to his feet (with husks of weird fruit on one shoulder that he is trying to brush off but that seems to be stuck by weird prickly bits on the external skin) when fukawa barrels towards him like — well.


What are you doing?

it comes out as a bit of a squawk. look, he hasn't clued into the fact the horseman is coming back around, okay?
zangetsu: (pic#15913340)

[personal profile] zangetsu 2022-10-20 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
he laughs almost despite himself, a short huff of amusement. ichigo's not really used to... playful people, not in this way. chad's too serious, ishida too repressed, tatsuki too stern... rukia'd be too busy kicking him in the face, and inoue...

— it's nice, that's all. that lightheartedness.


I guess you've brought coffee facts. That counts.
redsoil: — PLEASE CREDIT! (Default)

[personal profile] redsoil 2022-10-20 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Call it one of his more curious traits, that he will touch others -- yet recoil when they seek to return the contact.

Don't allow their filthy hands to touch you, some part of him coils, disgusted and venomous. It is the same part of him that he sometimes cannot tell from himself, or the darker parts of his being -- the ones made more prominent in this realm, vocalizing old grudges, old ire, the crimson thread of madness that runs through it all, urging him towards ruining things. The gods have power, but are they truly free in any way? So, he does not allow them to touch him, but time and time again, his own hands stray to the mortals that draw him in. The whole thing horrifies him, the way that he loses some measure of control when someone like Jonas, or Dimitri, speaks in a way that resonates within him.

( He's sure as summer, that back in the Shadowlands, his door wants to be opened -- it's calling out to him, urging him to let these people in. He won't. He can't. )

So, instead. He lets himself be drawn in and he is drawn in, against his desires. In the same way that he is enraptured by Dimitri's description of winter, of a foreign season that has never touched Egypt's lands and never will for thousands upon thousands of years -- and he finds he cannot quite envision what it is. Cold water. Soft water. Ice, he knows of. ]


Uaa. [ It's such a soft sound; one of encouragement, of wonder. ] I've never seen snow. It does not sound so different from my deserts, only cold. Things do not grow in the desert, it is unfavorable to human survival - no one calls it beautiful. The god of your nation must be incredible.
zangetsu: (pic#15910575)

[personal profile] zangetsu 2022-10-20 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
he's faced a broad variety of people with abilities that ranged from the believable to the unspeakably strange — but her voice cuts through his awareness like a knife, and his teeth click shut on an argument.

both of us?


Who are you talking about?

his voice is quiet and calm — gone is the frantic concern. now he's just wondering if he has to be ready for a fight.
redsoil: — PLEASE CREDIT! (Default)

[personal profile] redsoil 2022-10-20 08:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Because --

[ Why? Why care. Why begin to care now, for a strange woman from a strange land in a strange realm, who has nothing to do with keeping his promise and resolving the sins he'd poisoned Egypt with? She is not one of his subjects, he did no harm to her or her children. There's no purpose to preventing her from killing herself, aside from her corpse being left to slump and decay in the woods. Aside from -- ]

Don't you have those who will miss you?
windsongs: (Default)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She appreciates the space more than she could ever say with words, both the physical and emotional. Maybe one day she'll feel okay talking about her mother without getting choked up.

Rising up on her knees, she gingerly sets to work on the blood near his hairline as a smooth smile starts to spread across her lips. ]


Cause we'd have to figure out a way to get to the Far Shores. And possibly past them.
windsongs: (Default)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ But it's a nice handkerchief! She doesn't want to cover it in sweat and blood!

With a somber look on her face, the small blonde nods. That he can say something like that with such a soft voice, seemingly unaffected by the implication of those words... The Earth of the far future really is a dark place, isn't it? ]


She was sweet. Funny. Ready and willing to jump in and help this newly-arrived Restless find her footing. But you could tell that the world weighed heavy, and I think she'd do what she could to help lighten the load.

...I hope she's alright.
windsongs: (011)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She can't really pale anymore than she already is (yay blood loss!), but instead Hibiki stares up at Ichigo in fear, even if his own voice feels surprisingly collected considering the circumstances.

W̵e̷r̴e̸ ̸y̵o̶u̵ ̴t̵a̶l̶k̷i̸n̷g̶ ̸t̵o̵ ̶m̶e̶ ̵o̴r̵.̴.̶?̸

Hibiki takes a slow, deep breath, shrinking a bit as her gaze lowers. ]


That... shadow thing, I think. Sorry, I...

[ Because as far as she knows, she's never heard That one speak to her. Whatever or whoever possessed her when she was alive. ]

I'm sorry I yelled at you. I dunno what got into me.
redsoil: — PLEASE CREDIT! (Default)

[personal profile] redsoil 2022-10-20 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ HERNANDO NO

Behind him, Set is a sleek line of brilliant red, honed in upon the scampering man who proves nimble, fleet of foot -- it'd be delightful, if he wasn't already on a time crunch and annoyed by the escape of his first target. This one has to be it, it has to be Bruno that he captures and brings to the end of the course, or he will lose and it will make the fact that he was playing a silly mortal game humiliating, instead of laughably easy. His pride is truly on the line, and he has so little of it to spare.

A burst of ancient tongue escapes him again, as Set elects not to ascend the haybale obstacles and instead lowers his head, sets his forearms up as a brace -- and just slams through them, scattering the bales across the course with a horrible wham of force. One of them even manages to go flying past Bruno again, narrowly missing him as it spirals and cartwheels through the corn, shedding strands of hay as it goes. ]


If you cost me this victory, you stubborn -- wretched thing --!!
exilire: (pic#16012925)

[personal profile] exilire 2022-10-20 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Maybe I'm going to drink all of it.

[ and suddenly that terribly serious veneer cracks and she grins at him, a bit loose and loopy and not at all like that tightly-controlled smirk she usually gives. ]

Just one more. It's helping, I think.

[ helping her lose her balance, perhaps; she's a little unsteady on her feet, and she seems unusually giddy given the circumstances, especially when she takes another glass of the drink, tipping it back and down her throat with more ease than she's done the first one.

either her taste buds have become numbed, or this rampant feeling of bliss has rendered the disgusting drink palatable. ]


See? Not too —

[ and then her legs are buckling underneath her — not suddenly, but in slow motion — and she sinks down onto a nearby soft bale of hay, laughing. ]
coherer: constantly being led astray (pic#13731236)

[personal profile] coherer 2022-10-20 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
...

(jonas slows a little to look over at zagreus as though he were equipped with the two extra heads instead of his dog.

this is perhaps the most enthusiastic—older-brother-humouring-younger-brother—reaction to one of his creations he's ever received. he'd have even gotten a bit shy about it and held the jack-o-lantern more tightly to his chest if zagreus hadn't followed up with the worst pun of all time.

thankfully, as a purveyor of bad jokes himself, a laugh is startled from jonas whose cheeks become rosy with embarrassed appreciation.
)

Oh, God. Please tell me that wasn't you at your best, there's gotta be more where that came from, (he begs, ignoring the growing calamities apparently happening several corn rows over. the sound is gone, so jonas can't care anymore.) I'll give you another shot: What do you think I should name the pumpkin? I was entertaining "Gourdon Lightfoot," after the musician, but I'm open to suggestions.
craters: (Screenshot 2022-09-14 190355)

[personal profile] craters 2022-10-20 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
she bites her lip, looking after the swath of violent destruction the hunt left in its wake.

I believe the — horseman took them.

the hesitation isn't fear so much as an uncertainty about how to refer to the strange opponent. but she knows that sasuke and naruto will have likely given chase, and although she feels confident they'll be fine, it still makes anxiety over their wellbeing curl in her gut. there's no telling how the way their chakra gutters will affect them in a fight.

she exhales, clearly intended as a bracing motion, and then shakes her head to clear it.


I'm not sure what local customs prefer — but we can ask. their dead are burnt. but it's not the same everywhere, and it's not difficult to respect other customs on their shores. her hand squeezes his shoulder gently and then releases.

We can talk about what it's like later, okay?

he is asking out of compassion, she thinks — as if such a query might proffer distraction in the midst of all the blood and death. but she doesn't need the consideration, she's comfortable here, evident in the way that she seems no paler than her common mien, and her hands and voice are steady.
craters: (Screenshot 2022-09-14 193035)

[personal profile] craters 2022-10-20 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, you should try the grablenuts!

would she mind being artificially relaxed and happy? maybe not if she'd pursued it intentionally. she's sure going to have opinions about these festival patrons once she realizes what's going on.

in the interim, though, she gives him a sidelong look, smiling under the floppy brim of his hat.


You're pretty good with kids, huh?
midway: (195)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-20 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Even with the way his heart his thundering in his chest, it's a pretty impressive sight. Gruesome and terrible when Fukawa's scissors dig into the creature's eye. He spares a moment to be impressed with how she can move over a giant, moving skeleton that's trying to kill her. She deserves to live a life of peace, but if she's inclined to violence, Claude wouldn't mind having someone like that in his army...

He probably shouldn't have wasted so much time she watching however—not fast enough to break her fall when she's thrown to the ground.

But soon enough it doesn't matter, the earth beneath them crumbling and falling away. They make a break for it, and it's a second too late. There's a disorienting second where Claude takes a step and his feet hits air instead of earth and then he's falling.

They're both falling. The only thought Claude has before he hits the water is that he really hopes that stupid skeleton doesn't land on them.

And then he doesn't think, the breath knocked out him when the water slams into him, everything going black for a moment.

But no rest for the wicked, and soon enough he's kicking back to the surface, gasping for air and pushing the hair out of his eyes and he looks around for his partner in crime. ]


Fukawa—?
midway: (25)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-20 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ... Hello? ]

Uh, my heartbeat? [ ??? ] You can hear it?
midway: (80)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-20 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
... That's a very smart warning, I was absolutely about to try flying.

[ He says that with sincerity, too disoriented and confused for deceit. ]

These wings are just for decoration.

[ There's a lot going on with his body that he's trying to process. ]