Entry tags:
- ! mod event,
- arknights: shalem,
- bleach: grimmjow jaegerjaquez,
- bleach: jugram haschwalth,
- danganronpa: fukawa toko,
- encanto: bruno madrigal,
- ennead: set,
- fe3h: claude von riegan,
- fe3h: felix hugo fraldarius,
- ffvii: vincent valentine,
- genshin impact: tartaglia (childe),
- genshin impact: the traveler (lumine),
- hades: zagreus,
- htwmho: rudbeckia de borgia,
- jjk: fushiguro megumi,
- jjk: itadori yuuji,
- naruto: uchiha sasuke,
- orv: han sooyoung,
- orv: jung heewon,
- shadow and bone: the darkling,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- the last of us: joel miller,
- vld: keith
(no subject)
I. PUSHING UP DAISIES
cw: depiction of hanahaki, mention of blood, mild body horror
The Frightful Harvest ended on a bloody, eerie note, but the Respite's most welcome interlude has proven exceptionally fruitful. The sky's darkened again, moons struggling to glow through turbulent clouds, but crops all over Stygia have grown dense and healthy, herbs and plants and flowers aplenty. Normally, it'd be a time to rejoice, even as sleet pours and winds grow bitterly cold -- and it might have been, had greens and stems and petals NOT elected to blossom inside you. Your lungs, specifically.
It's an uncommon side effect of the Harvest, affecting those who foster affection or attraction towards another, triggered only by a stray thought. Almost as if punished by Oblivium for harboring any kind of positive feelings. The worst part is that the object of your desire doesn't even have to be in the Netherworld for you to be afflicted. Over the span of three months, you'll gradually experience various degrees of the "harvest's curse", depending on the source of your feelings:
II. DO NOT PASS GO
cw: mention of blood, torture, branding, violence, forced captivity
Full-swing investigations concerning the Harvest's murders have begun, though the mysterious rider has yet to resurface. The day is young still, but no matter; the Hierarchy firmly believes that the creature was summoned by a group of renegades, fully intent on finding and dismembering the organization. Perhaps even literally.
If you've spilled blood not your own in the previous event, the Hierarchy finds you. Do they know? It doesn't really matter; they've targeted you for reasons they won't divulge, persuaded of your involvement -- and off to the Gallows you go. Each of you receives the same greeting when you arrive, held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with the letter F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’, and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the Hierarchy's hospitality. Writhe and scream and glower as much as you want; next thing you know, something heavy hits you across the head, and you collapse.
When your vision slowly creeps back, your eyes adjust to a dimly lit stone cell. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain, and you lie in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. It's dark; the air is bloated and filled with agonizing shrieks. Dead vines scrap the walls of half-crumbled buildings, weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by withered clumps of grass. You may converse with your cellmates: the guards patrolling the Gallows couldn't care less, convinced that no one could possibly escape anyway.
III. TO THE RESCUE
cw: depiction of hanahaki, mention of blood, mild body horror
The Frightful Harvest ended on a bloody, eerie note, but the Respite's most welcome interlude has proven exceptionally fruitful. The sky's darkened again, moons struggling to glow through turbulent clouds, but crops all over Stygia have grown dense and healthy, herbs and plants and flowers aplenty. Normally, it'd be a time to rejoice, even as sleet pours and winds grow bitterly cold -- and it might have been, had greens and stems and petals NOT elected to blossom inside you. Your lungs, specifically.
It's an uncommon side effect of the Harvest, affecting those who foster affection or attraction towards another, triggered only by a stray thought. Almost as if punished by Oblivium for harboring any kind of positive feelings. The worst part is that the object of your desire doesn't even have to be in the Netherworld for you to be afflicted. Over the span of three months, you'll gradually experience various degrees of the "harvest's curse", depending on the source of your feelings:
► PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ATTRACTION & REQUITED LOVE
It starts with an itch. Your throat tickles, an odd sensation in your lungs, slightly constricted. Allergies? Not quite. It worsens overtime, and days pass by, perhaps weeks. You cough, a little more every day, a little deeper, and then it happens: petals, stuck to your lips as you wheeze and try to empty your chest. Marigold, carnations, daisies, peonies... Thankfully, for you, it's more of an annoyance, sporadic at best and leaving you exhausted at times, but you're in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, not all Restless share the same luck.
► UNREQUITED LOVE
It doesn't matter whether it is truly unrequited; as long as you think it is, whether you're fully convinced or distantly resigned, you get the whole package. It starts the same way the lesser variation does, gradual, and with unsavory (!) additions: lilies and dark red roses. The first slowly spreads its poison in your body, inducing fevers, skin rashes, blistering in your mouth and stomach aches. The second pricks your throat bloody, making speech difficult and breathing even more so. It spreads throughout Stygia, and if most wound up meeting their end in the past, some speak of a highly hypothetical cure. It's believed that if the object of your affection confesses equally strong feelings for you, the curse should rapidly subside. If this option isn't viable, Doran promises that all Healers in Hale are working extremely hard to find a solution. In the meantime, symptoms can be partially soothed with poultices and spells that you can find in the Marketplace or in Serene. Some merchants might even take pity on you and offer them for free.
It starts with an itch. Your throat tickles, an odd sensation in your lungs, slightly constricted. Allergies? Not quite. It worsens overtime, and days pass by, perhaps weeks. You cough, a little more every day, a little deeper, and then it happens: petals, stuck to your lips as you wheeze and try to empty your chest. Marigold, carnations, daisies, peonies... Thankfully, for you, it's more of an annoyance, sporadic at best and leaving you exhausted at times, but you're in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, not all Restless share the same luck.
► UNREQUITED LOVE
It doesn't matter whether it is truly unrequited; as long as you think it is, whether you're fully convinced or distantly resigned, you get the whole package. It starts the same way the lesser variation does, gradual, and with unsavory (!) additions: lilies and dark red roses. The first slowly spreads its poison in your body, inducing fevers, skin rashes, blistering in your mouth and stomach aches. The second pricks your throat bloody, making speech difficult and breathing even more so. It spreads throughout Stygia, and if most wound up meeting their end in the past, some speak of a highly hypothetical cure. It's believed that if the object of your affection confesses equally strong feelings for you, the curse should rapidly subside. If this option isn't viable, Doran promises that all Healers in Hale are working extremely hard to find a solution. In the meantime, symptoms can be partially soothed with poultices and spells that you can find in the Marketplace or in Serene. Some merchants might even take pity on you and offer them for free.
if your character has heard of similar diseases in their home world, they're absolutely welcome to share their insight on the netherwork or anywhere else
the evolution of the disease can be as gradual, as fast or as severe as you wish it to be
a mini quest to retrieve ingredients for a cure will be available in december or january
by february, all characters should be cured
II. DO NOT PASS GO
cw: mention of blood, torture, branding, violence, forced captivity
Full-swing investigations concerning the Harvest's murders have begun, though the mysterious rider has yet to resurface. The day is young still, but no matter; the Hierarchy firmly believes that the creature was summoned by a group of renegades, fully intent on finding and dismembering the organization. Perhaps even literally.
If you've spilled blood not your own in the previous event, the Hierarchy finds you. Do they know? It doesn't really matter; they've targeted you for reasons they won't divulge, persuaded of your involvement -- and off to the Gallows you go. Each of you receives the same greeting when you arrive, held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with the letter F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’, and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the Hierarchy's hospitality. Writhe and scream and glower as much as you want; next thing you know, something heavy hits you across the head, and you collapse.
When your vision slowly creeps back, your eyes adjust to a dimly lit stone cell. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain, and you lie in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. It's dark; the air is bloated and filled with agonizing shrieks. Dead vines scrap the walls of half-crumbled buildings, weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by withered clumps of grass. You may converse with your cellmates: the guards patrolling the Gallows couldn't care less, convinced that no one could possibly escape anyway.
► Ironically, a magical barrier around the Gallows prevents magical/spiritual abilities from functioning. However, characters who roam free still can absolutely sneak in! Be careful not to get caught, though!
► Loud disagreements might attract unwanted attention. A single guard will come, and if he finds nothing else amiss, will threaten them to be quiet. A second violation earns the offender a rap on their bare feet with a club. A third violation will cause the offender to be gagged. Note that in order to beat or gag the offender, the guard must first open the cell.
► If you share affinities with Gargoyles, incapacitating a guard in any way will draw the attention of one. It'll show you to the gates where you'll be able to escape, taking care of sentries on your way. You should probably keep a low-profile from then on, and avoid showing-off your brand.
► A secret passage may be found through a mausoleum nearby; an arrow of flaking red paint marks the entrance. Or is it blood? Inside, it's nearly pitch-black. Perhaps, if you're lucky, your vision extends as far as 30 feet in front of you, but occasionally, the darkness is broken by clinging phosphorescent fungi or crawling luminescent creatures, and from out of the silence echo sounds of dripping water. You're underground, and Abysmals can be encountered here if you're too loud. You should also watch out for cave-ins, but as you get farther away from the general region of the Gallows, your magical abilities gradually come back.
► Eventually, a long, broken staircase will lead you to Hale. If you're injured, you'll be sent to the main infirmary; characters with healing abilities or knowledge are super welcome to help!
Luckily for you, there are so many prisoners it's a difficult task for the Hierarchy to always keep track of all of them. Your brand, however, is a dead giveaway, so you might as well try and find a way to get rid of it; you might hear through the grapevines that the dead skin of Badaliscus can be used as bandages, and overtime, the brand will fully heal and disappear.► Loud disagreements might attract unwanted attention. A single guard will come, and if he finds nothing else amiss, will threaten them to be quiet. A second violation earns the offender a rap on their bare feet with a club. A third violation will cause the offender to be gagged. Note that in order to beat or gag the offender, the guard must first open the cell.
► If you share affinities with Gargoyles, incapacitating a guard in any way will draw the attention of one. It'll show you to the gates where you'll be able to escape, taking care of sentries on your way. You should probably keep a low-profile from then on, and avoid showing-off your brand.
► A secret passage may be found through a mausoleum nearby; an arrow of flaking red paint marks the entrance. Or is it blood? Inside, it's nearly pitch-black. Perhaps, if you're lucky, your vision extends as far as 30 feet in front of you, but occasionally, the darkness is broken by clinging phosphorescent fungi or crawling luminescent creatures, and from out of the silence echo sounds of dripping water. You're underground, and Abysmals can be encountered here if you're too loud. You should also watch out for cave-ins, but as you get farther away from the general region of the Gallows, your magical abilities gradually come back.
► Eventually, a long, broken staircase will lead you to Hale. If you're injured, you'll be sent to the main infirmary; characters with healing abilities or knowledge are super welcome to help!
III. TO THE RESCUE
As you attempt to escape, or perhaps once you’ve successfully snuck in, you come across a terrifying spectacle: in front of you, impaled through the shoulder by a spear, a weary humanoid figure covered in blood. The body is being restrained by additional shackles on each arm and leg, which are linked to chains anchored within the walls. There's a guard nearby, armed to the teeth… and still you decide to free them.
The guard’s magic is just as useless as yours, and while impressive in size, dexterity definitely isn’t his main strength. He hits hard — with brass knuckles, a chain mace, and a sturdy shield — and his stamina almost seems endless, but it’s not. Keep evading, and he’ll eventually tire enough to topple over. It’s also possible to have him chase you around if you don’t go too far, which would allow someone else to grab the spear. Once he’s too exhausted to go on, you can either kill him or chain him to the wall. The keys are in his boots, and you’ll find a bottle of water as well as a small vial of ointment in a satchel on the ground, where he previously stood.
The prisoner is a young man, perhaps in his mid-20s. Once freed from his shackles, he immediately keels over, though he’s not unconscious. He thanks you with a deep and raw voice, begging for water. You can tend to his wounds if you’re able—the ointment quickly soothes—and when he finally stands again, he asks you a question: “I’m a stranger to you, and you could have died. Yet, you chose to free me, unaware of my past. Of my crimes. Of my virtues. Why?”
Regardless of your answer, he smiles, a private understanding that turns the stretch of his lips enigmatic. There’s a bubbling chuckle in his throat, very hoarse, and then he hisses, touching where you’ve helped him apply the ointment on his body. “You know what they say. If it stings...” He looks at you, deliberately pausing there and staring bold into your eyes. “... then it must be working.”
It might feel like there’s more to what he’s trying to say, though it’s pointless to ask: he bows, and then he slowly inches away from you. “Until we meet again.” White and thick tendrils of smoke envelop him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and then just like that, he’s gone.
The guard’s magic is just as useless as yours, and while impressive in size, dexterity definitely isn’t his main strength. He hits hard — with brass knuckles, a chain mace, and a sturdy shield — and his stamina almost seems endless, but it’s not. Keep evading, and he’ll eventually tire enough to topple over. It’s also possible to have him chase you around if you don’t go too far, which would allow someone else to grab the spear. Once he’s too exhausted to go on, you can either kill him or chain him to the wall. The keys are in his boots, and you’ll find a bottle of water as well as a small vial of ointment in a satchel on the ground, where he previously stood.
The prisoner is a young man, perhaps in his mid-20s. Once freed from his shackles, he immediately keels over, though he’s not unconscious. He thanks you with a deep and raw voice, begging for water. You can tend to his wounds if you’re able—the ointment quickly soothes—and when he finally stands again, he asks you a question: “I’m a stranger to you, and you could have died. Yet, you chose to free me, unaware of my past. Of my crimes. Of my virtues. Why?”
Regardless of your answer, he smiles, a private understanding that turns the stretch of his lips enigmatic. There’s a bubbling chuckle in his throat, very hoarse, and then he hisses, touching where you’ve helped him apply the ointment on his body. “You know what they say. If it stings...” He looks at you, deliberately pausing there and staring bold into your eyes. “... then it must be working.”
It might feel like there’s more to what he’s trying to say, though it’s pointless to ask: he bows, and then he slowly inches away from you. “Until we meet again.” White and thick tendrils of smoke envelop him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and then just like that, he’s gone.
so you’ve chosen to free him, which in turn has generated a future plot point that’ll occur some time in february. some of you WILL see him again.
what he says to you is a clue.
you can answer his question OOCly right here. it’ll have some bearing on the way your character will be approached re: future plot point.
if you've voted no and would still like to participate, you could always allow your character to be convinced or reluctantly dragged by another!
ooc note
► As always, check out the Notice Board if you'd like additional prompts! Older quests from previous months are always available as well. You'll also find the Calendar right here.
► You'll find already answered questions just here, and if you'd like to ask new ones, ask them here!
► For fun's sake and similarly to the puck adventure, you may play it out in different groups or on your own, and still obtain the same results as everyone else whether your characters threaded together!
d
Honestly though, starting a prison brawl would be a good way to lure the guards here. He's fairly sure that he and Felix could probably take one down without much struggle. But then what?
He regards Felix without immediately making a swing at him. ]
Is this your plan to escape?
[ He doesn't look incredibly fussed; unfortunately, all forms of Dimitri have experience with imprisonment, though this is grimier and more surrounded by despair than his last experience. It's the latter that puts him more on-edge than before, slightly less accepting, though he's still not sure what Felix's overall scheme here is. They don't even know the way out for sure. ]
no subject
[it's snapped, but without much venom. surely dimitri can see the flow of how this goes. guards come in, they beat them up, take their keys, and get out. quick and simple. in and out. still, he's sensing some hesitation, and frowns.]
Don't start overthinking this. Just do what comes naturally to you, or I'll really hit you.
[so why doesn't he? instead he's just glowering, crouched like a nasty little prison gremlin, ready to fight. but dimitri has to go first, for some reason.]
no subject
I'm not going to hit you, Felix.
[ He doesn't care if Felix punches him, just go ahead. ]
We should at least make sure we're on the same page before we do anything. It should be easy to get out of the cell—what then?
no subject
We make a run for it. Whatever direction the guards are coming from, we go the opposite way. If we can get weapons from some of them along the way, even better. Then we find what they took from us, and get out.
[see? easy. this is all presented rather matter-of-factly, despite the fact that they are currently chained in a cell wearing miserable rags. none of this has extinguished felix's rebellion. but he seems to consider this plan more than enough, and cracks his knuckles, then his neck.]
Come on, boar. If you won't punch, then at least harness your beastly nature to grapple me with. It's not going to be convincing enough for someone to actually come in if we're not making a nuisance of ourselves.
[and without further ado, felix throws himself at dimitri, attempting to wrestle the other man to the ground, bound feet be damned. he's not violent about it, at least—it's more physical sparring session than an actual attempt to hurt him. mid-exertion, he mutters:]
Just don't break my spine.
[sure, he doesn't have his crest abilities at the moment, but it's not as though he's a weakling without them.]
no subject
He doesn't have the opportunity to make these amendments. ]
Wait, Felix—
[ Nope, okay, they're doing this. He's downed briefly, but rolls up to his feet with the unhappy clatter of their shared chain. Hand-to-hand isn't exactly his favorite form of combat, but they're plenty trained in it, and have wrestled more than enough that he knows how to make it look like they're trying to strike at each other in earnest.
So, that's what he does. He doesn't dodge Felix's next blow, taking the opportunity to charge him, shoving him at the cell bars for the sake of a loud, metallic rattle. The sound of the chain scraping furiously across the ground is noisy too; soon enough, their guard is bound to come over to tell them to shut up. ]
no subject
he's midway to putting dimitri in a fake chokehold when there's a commotion behind them, a guard angrily striding towards their cell, club out. as he struggles with the right key to open things up and commit some prisoner abuse, felix grunts, and grabs the chain between them, untangling it for the clear movement they'll shortly need. still grappling for effect, he hisses:]
Go for his head—I've got his legs!
[again, not waiting for feedback on this. because as soon as the guard is in, felix disengages dimitri and attacks—whipping his end of chain around their would-be abuser's ankles.]
Now!
no subject
It must look vicious to anyone who doesn't know them, though. Because the guard does show up with predictable bravado, so sure he can break this up when he's armed and they aren't.
So it's almost satisfying to see him tripped up on the chain, staggered before Dimitri twists his wrist, forcing the club to clatter out of his hand; with his power sealed away, he doesn't have to worry about crushing bone when he uses the hard bone of his palm to hit the guard squarely in the jaw. Judging by how it knocks him out cold, it'll probably leave a nice ache for a few days, though.
Serves him right. In the commotion, a ring of keys topples out of the guard's boot. ]
Oh, that was pathetic. [ SAD...... he nods at Felix. ] Good work.
no subject
[it's felix's only reply, even if he does agree about what a sorry excuse of a fight it was. instead, he scoops up the ring of keys, bending down to try each one in turn on the cuffs around his ankles. once he's got his own unlocked, though, dimitri's is a piece of cake. touching the chafed skin with his fingers, he purses his lips at the sting of it, and chooses just to ignore it instead. he can save healing for something actually life-endangering.
straightening up, he strides towards the open door. they probably only have so much time until another guard arrives, after all.]
Come on.
[once again, there's no way he's waiting, or even looking back. forward momentum is the name of the entire game at the moment.
wait.
at the door out of the cell room proper, he turns, pointing.]
Get his club.
[NOW he's opening the door. stealth whomst. they can take them all on.]
no subject
And he's sure there's a fight awaiting them. Dimitri is all aboard for the great Faerghan tactic of beating their enemies into a stupor; he couldn't sneak out of here if he tried. But he trails behind a step. ]
Wait. We should see if those keys will open any of the other chains as we go.
[ They're not the only ones being held captive here, even if he doesn't recognize anyone else in their immediate vicinity. ]
no subject
grimacing physically, felix stomps back in, and shoves the keys into his hands.]
You get one minute. Unlock as many as you can, but then we're leaving. We don't have time to hang around!
no subject
In the end, he makes it clear he accepts, because he makes a trade. Dimitri takes the keys, but entrusts Felix with the club and a quick nod. ]
I'll work quickly. ...Thank you.
[ Because he knows this is a concession, and not because Felix has a black heart. That's all he wastes the time on saying before darting off, quickly testing the keys on another shackle with a brief assurance, the prisoner attached to it looking bewildered between the two of them.
In the meantime, good luck dealing with the next guard that's coming on shift, Felix. ]
no subject
well—yes, and no. the miserable wretch he'd left behind in the cathedral wouldn't have bothered, too lost to the ghosts to see the living properly. yet he found himself hating how easily he fell back into a familiar rhythm when they weren't actively fighting with each other—dancing around things they both knew. but maybe, just maybe, a part of him had missed this. he'd die before he considered it.
gripping the club, felix's eyes dart between the dark corridor beyond the door, and keeping an eye on the prisoner-freeing progress. he'd said a minute, but dimitri was so slow with these little things, he groused internally. he lets one minute stretch into two, but as three approaches, his already-low patience officially evaporates. it's as he's opening his mouth to point this out, that he hears the heavy footfall in the hallway, fast approaching.]
We're out of time!
[and no sooner has it left his lips then the guard is there, lunging at felix with another club. he catches it against his own, holding it back with both hands, but weapons like these are far from his speciality. throwing the head-on assailant to the side takes some effort, but he manages the energy to slam the club against his head on the way down, stunning him, but only for a second.]
Come on!
no subject
He's worked through nearly every key on this ring, so he relents. He pushes the rattling ring at one of the remaining prisoners, urging them to try and free themselves while he takes care of the guards. It's only a second later where he comes by, rejoining Felix not with a greeting, but by grabbing the dazed guard's by his helmet and smacking his head against the nearest stone wall, hard enough that the metal dents even without his obnoxious strength.
And then to add insult to injury, he takes his club. So now they're both armed. It's enough to feel a little triumphant, even if they're certainly not out of dodge; their escape isn't just slipping away into the night anymore, but a ruckus of chaos and noise. Dimitri nearly grins as he runs ahead.
For him, this is sort of nostalgic. ]
You'd better hurry up, Felix!
[ wow the nerve ]
no subject
This isn't a game, boar!
[even if it is, perhaps, just the tiniest bit fun.
but as he and dimitri make their way down the corridor, now nearly shoulder to shoulder, a growing roar of sound begins to make itself known—and as they breach the doorway for a larger prison hall, it becomes apparent as to why. the previously-freed prisoners have done the job of riling up every guard in the vicinity, and in here, it's an all-out war. guards are tussling with the freemen, who are using whatever comes to hand as a weapon—chains, chairs, manacles, rocks—and the guards are fighting back with pure brutality. without more on their side, it seemed wholly likely they might end up back in a cell. unless...
Even with how sloppy your backup usually is, we could use it right now.
felix concentrates on the words, the room around them, for a minute—and shoots it all out into a mental void—and scowls when the other end picks it up. if asked, he'd simply pretend he didn't do that.
without wasting another minute, he throws himself into combat, slamming his club into the temple of a guard gaining ground on dimitri.]
Watch yourself!
no subject
he hadn't felt much in the first few months, but perhaps it's the forced separation that now exacerbates the emotional runoff. he's been feeling echoes of anger, pain, and frustration, and if he weren't already here to rescue his friends from danger, it would be to shut off the exhausting valve of secondhand sentiments.
felix's message doesn't really transmit as words so much as a soundless pull, the faintest indication of a direction and need. and it's felix's scowl that crosses sylvain's features for a moment, too, before he blinks out of it and alters trajectory.
his arrival is rather anticlimactic given the existing chaos. at least, he's also armed with an aged iron bar wrenched from the door of an abandoned cell. ]
There you are.
[ that's addressed to the both of them. sylvain looks visibly relieved to see the pair, a brief smile flitting to his face even as he clobbers the nearest guard with his makeshift weapon. ]
Having fun without me?
no subject
Part of it is just the exhilaration of being let loose from his cage after so many days, not having to hold back as he steps aside and bludgeons another guard after Felix defends him, just in time for another familiar face to come find them.
His brows hop up in surprise. ]
Sylvain!
[ The small, giddy sensation of breaking out is smothered when he spots him, casting a quick, troubled glance over him for injury. But it doesn't look like Sylvain has been imprisoned here, thankfully—his clothes are too fresh, his condition not grimy enough. So he came into the gallows from the outside. He eyes the makeshift crowbar next, and it's clear Sylvain didn't intend to talk his way in or out of the prison. ]
You're here to rescue us...?
[ Meanwhile, the crush of the prison brawl forces them to move along. Amidst the hullabaloo, there's still one man in shackles, pinned to the wall by his shoulder by a spear. ]
no subject
["nice to see you sylvain, thank you for coming sylvain"
feigning disinterest in his friend's arrival, felix busies himself with braining another guard, gritting his teeth with effort as he brings down the club. rather than training with blunt weapons, this whole experience has taught him that he just needs to get better with swords to prevent it from happening in the first place.
flicking his eyes around the room, felix spots the spear first, and the prisoner it's attached to is more of an afterthought. he gestures to dimitri and sylvain for attention, and then points at the weapon, lodged as it is.]
Grab that! At least one of us should have a proper weapon if we're going to get back out of here. I'll handle the guard.
[big talk, considering that the guard being discussed is armed to the teeth? but without a second of hesitation, felix throws himself into the fray, lashing out with his club. despite his assurances, he could probably use a hand.]
no subject
first, he answers dimitri, ] That was the plan, but you two seem to be doing pretty well for yourselves.
[ that said, 3 against many guards is always better than 2 against many guards. while felix takes point, sylvain (quickly) considers whether he wants to ostensibly free a completely stranger, not to mention wrench a spear out of their shoulder. ]
You sure about that? Could be more trouble than its worth.
[ he's not risk-adverse in the least bit, but his priority is clear—getting his friends to safety. an extra spear could come in handy, sure, but they've been doing pretty okay with blunt objects as well. ]
no subject
Including the way that Felix is going to prioritize fighting the guards, and Sylvain is going to be the closest thing to a tactician they have, scrutinizing the (reasonable) risk of helping this man. Which leaves Dimitri to act his part too. ]
If there are consequences, we will answer them later.
[ And because sometimes you are king and don't technically need anyone's confirmation to do anything, he grabs the prisoner's shoulder firmly, unable to assuage him before pulling the spear out in a single, clean yank, blood splashing against the old rags he's had to dress in.
The armed guard is busy, but he won't be preoccupied forever. And the obvious choice for a spear—besides himself—is right there. As he hefts the injured prisoner up to their feet, steadying their wobbling form, he shoves the bloodied lance towards Sylvain. ]
Help Felix!
no subject
as dimitri thrusts the spear into sylvain's hands, felix scoffs, moving close enough to be within earshot of the duo in the din of chaos.]
Just don't get in my way!
[and back he goes, committed to playing the dangerous role of bait until he wears him down. occasionally, felix swings the club, getting a hit on the guard when he's close, but it's hardly enough to take him out. for all his words, it's clear he's keeping an eye on sylvain and his movements, and maybe even luring the guard into a position to make him easier to take out.]
no subject
No need to say it twice...!
[ he's already moving to cover felix—not as simple to do in such close quarters, with someone especially fleet-footed.
then again, they've done this hundreds of times before, and it's almost criminally easy to attune himself to felix's movements, with or without the soulbond. there's a palpable moment where their footwork syncs—sylvain lunges forward, driving the point of the spear into the throat of the guard, momentum sending the man stumbling backwards before he drops on the floor altogether in a gurgling pool of blood.
sylvain flicks off as much of the mess as he can, and gives felix a quick nod after confirming he's unscathed. ]
...How's the other guy? [ the prisoner they just freed. ]
no subject
He's more occupied with turning to his friends once they've cleaned up. ]
...He will live.
[ He leaves the man with a salve and keys that'd been abandoned in the struggle against the guard, equipping him to escape before getting to his feet. ]
We're better off clearing a path while the chaos is high. [ Better than staying around here, trying to nurse and coddle a stranger who needs to stay out of a fight. ] Can you show us how to get out of here, Sylvain?
no subject
felix answers the prisoner, and then kind of. shoos him away. before turning back to dimitri and sylvain. so probably none of them notice when the guy poofs? very funny.]
For once, we agree. This is the perfect time to get going. [in fact, felix is already going. club resting against his shoulder, he's powerwalking for the exit they didn't burst in through. hopefully it's correct!]