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come_sailaway2022-12-19 12:50 am
sailmods) wrote in come_sailaway2022-12-19 12:50 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- bioshock: jack,
- changeling the lost: erin peters,
- far cry 5: deputy pratt,
- far cry new dawn: sharky boshaw,
- fe3h: dedue molinaro,
- geist the sin-eaters: darcy lejeune,
- groundhog day musical: phil connors,
- heaven officials blessing: shi qingxuan,
- homestuck: eridan ampora,
- identity v: helena adams,
- lavender jack: honoria crabb,
- mcu: steven grant,
- murderbot diaries: murderbot,
- noragami: yatogami,
- original: aiden copeland,
- original: april caouette,
- original: jeff calhoun,
- original: valdis,
- original: ylva wolfsdottir,
- overwatch: bastion e54,
- overwatch: maximilien,
- rwby: ruby rose,
- scion: bash st. expedit,
- sherlock holmes: john watson,
- skulduggery pleasant: skulduggery,
- stranger things: chrissy cunningham,
- stranger things: eddie munson,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- tales of the abyss: jade curtiss,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the black phone: vance hopper,
- the locked tomb: palamedes sextus,
- the magnus archives: daisy tonner,
- the umbrella academy: klaus hargreeves,
- westworld: maeve millay
DECEMBER EVENT PART ONE: ALL IS CALM
early morning on the 23rd, Friday makes an announcement over the speaker system, cheerfully asking everyone who signed up for the excursion to gather in the atrium. when they arrive, they will find Friday, very seasonally dressed, who takes them down to the tender, which it appears she will be “driving” this time. during this particular trip, none of them lose consciousness, nor suffer any sort of physical aftereffects. however, it does feel like the trip takes about five hours of just. sitting in the tender in utter silence, with little light and still air. so maybe stop being little babies about the anesthesia???
when Friday opens the tender door for them, they find themselves stepping out into the lobby of a hotel - though, if they turn around, they’ll find there was no door at all, and any passengers they see after that will appear as if they are appearing out of the ether.
there is a clone Friday manning the front desk, and though, like the others, she isn’t much for conversation, she is very snappily dressed! she helpfully hands out keys to everyone who approaches her; they aren’t numbered, and are actually entirely physically indistinguishable from each other, but they seem to open up whatever room you want easily enough, and don’t seem to work for any others. weird. the dressers and closets in the rooms also contain suitably sized winter clothing, enough to last the few days they’ll spend there, and then some. weird.
once they’ve situated themselves, they’ll find that what lies before them is a realm much larger than others they’ve encountered; the land extends for miles in any direction, including upwards, though you’re more likely to hit a cliff before the hard barrier. there’s about a foot and a half of snow on the ground, and it continues to fall steadily. the forests lack all signs of life, but the foliage is rather attractive, as long as you don’t examine it too closely; coniferous trees are just easier.
all of the amenities are seemingly staffed by ghosts, though they give off even less of a presence than the ones aboard the ship do. there is also an industrial kitchen attached to one of the dining areas, though the meals served don’t seem to come from it, and it has a distinctly different feel than everything else around it, as if added in slapdash at the very last second.
there is one last oddity, however. every night, at about 2AM, the entire reality goes mute. voices don’t sound. snow doesn’t crunch under footsteps. even the winds are quiet. the effect ends at about 6AM. it’s probably fine.
happy holidays.
when Friday opens the tender door for them, they find themselves stepping out into the lobby of a hotel - though, if they turn around, they’ll find there was no door at all, and any passengers they see after that will appear as if they are appearing out of the ether.
there is a clone Friday manning the front desk, and though, like the others, she isn’t much for conversation, she is very snappily dressed! she helpfully hands out keys to everyone who approaches her; they aren’t numbered, and are actually entirely physically indistinguishable from each other, but they seem to open up whatever room you want easily enough, and don’t seem to work for any others. weird. the dressers and closets in the rooms also contain suitably sized winter clothing, enough to last the few days they’ll spend there, and then some. weird.
once they’ve situated themselves, they’ll find that what lies before them is a realm much larger than others they’ve encountered; the land extends for miles in any direction, including upwards, though you’re more likely to hit a cliff before the hard barrier. there’s about a foot and a half of snow on the ground, and it continues to fall steadily. the forests lack all signs of life, but the foliage is rather attractive, as long as you don’t examine it too closely; coniferous trees are just easier.
all of the amenities are seemingly staffed by ghosts, though they give off even less of a presence than the ones aboard the ship do. there is also an industrial kitchen attached to one of the dining areas, though the meals served don’t seem to come from it, and it has a distinctly different feel than everything else around it, as if added in slapdash at the very last second.
there is one last oddity, however. every night, at about 2AM, the entire reality goes mute. voices don’t sound. snow doesn’t crunch under footsteps. even the winds are quiet. the effect ends at about 6AM. it’s probably fine.
happy holidays.
what a world of merriment their melody foretells!
Ruby stops short as Dimitri hits the snow and blinks a couple times in mild surprise before a little giggle escapes. She tugs her hood up to cover her hair, which the white flakes of snow are already standing out against, but otherwise doesn't seem bothered by the contrast in temperature compared to the boat despite not having come dressed in anything winter appropriate.
"Well someone's excited about the snow. Aren't you freezing just jumping in like that?"
no subject
The climate on the boat just adds insult to soul-harvesting injury.
no subject
"So the boat is like... a sweaty nightmare on top of everything else, huh? That sucks." Which is a very blasé way to describe The Horrors, but that's about where she's at these days, apparently. Or maybe it's just right now. Still, she looks cheery enough. "At least you get to enjoy some proper weather now, though?"
There's the optimism. Bright sides!
"See, I actually can't tell how cold it is, is the thing; my Aura's kinda in charge of temperature regulation. I'll only start to feel it if it gets knocked down some. Which shouldn't happen." Beat. "Maybe if I get pelted with enough snowballs."
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He flops back down, shading his eyes with one hand against the falling snowflakes. "Aura? Is that what allows your," his other hand indicates 'boom! Swoosh,' "blood warp?"
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She gives a sympathetic little wince at the thought—yeah, that's not going to be fun, but hey. A reprieve is a reprieve.
Then, processing, processing... "...blood... warp—? Oh! Oh, you mean Petal Burst!" Blood warp, oh wow that adds extra context to why he was so startled by her pulling that move before. Whoops? "Yeah, basically! One-part power source, one-part shield, all-parts soul."
no subject
And a relief. It's not out of the question, but the thought of a world where teleportation magic means exploring into viscera ... eurgh.
He picks himself up from the snowbank. "I could lay there for hours, but I'd like to see what else this place has to offer. -- so Aura shields you from injury and from weather ... and you say it's part of your soul? Do you mean it's innate to you?"
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"There are so many levels in which I didn't think that move through that night... I can't even imagine how alarming that was."
She shakes her head at herself. Of course she hadn't had much sleep that night on account of her own nightmares, so she can put the blame somewhere at the feet of that towering presence, but still.
She nods her head vaguely in a direction, to say they can move to look around some.
"But, yeah, it's innate! Everyone on Remnant has the potential to unlock their Aura, and then their Semblance, though not everyone does. Most people don't these days. It's mostly huntsmen and other fighters that do. I always knew I wanted to be a huntress so my aura was awoken before I even started Combat School."
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There's a path cut through the snow towards the buildings; Dimitri starts down it. He can go wading through drifts once he's gotten a sense of the grounds.
"At first I assumed Aura was your world's form of magic. Then I was going to say it sounded more like a Crest. But if everyone has one ... perhaps attempting to draw comparisons is futile."
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"Mmhm. Huntsmen are our best defenders against the Grimm." She follows after him, enjoying the satisfying crunch of the snow under her boots. "Comparisons are definitely... hard. My world's magic system seems to be weird compared to like, anyone else's. Even the world that felt the most familiar, the magic..."
She trails off, shaking her head. She can't think about Undine right now, not when she didn't get on the tender and she has concerns about what that means.
"...well, it wasn't the same. See, we have magic, but Aura, Semblances, that's— not technically magic at home? It's... complicated." It's become way simpler to say it's just magic, because to everyone else it is. "What is a Crest?"
no subject
"Crests are inherited through bloodlines, like hair color or cold-hardiness. Most of Fódlan's major noble families carry one. Every bearer can trace their lineage back to a single ancestor, a hero granted power by the Goddess," Dimitri hesitates, almost imperceptibly, "or so legend says. Whether or not that's true," (Hooray! Blasphemy!) "the effects are real enough. Bearers possess extraordinary physical or magical abilities, and are highly prized as martial heroes and marital prospects." Dimitri sighs. "If that sounds cynical, it is. Those born with a Crest are political pawns first, and people second."
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"...do you carry one?" She feels like she knows the answer, piecing together various little things from their conversations, but... "There's— some Semblances at home that are hereditary, my friend Weiss has the only one I know of personally, and that's definitely been it's own kind of pressure, but. It's not like that. I think any cynicism is well-earned, in that case."
Remnant doesn't really have noble families anymore, or the related political pressures. Wealthy families with long histories like the Schnee's, sure, and their own priorities and politics, but it's still different.
"...other than that, the only uh. The only bloodline with hereditary abilities I know of is the Silver Eyed Warriors."
Ruby's eyes, startlingly silver, turn to the floor.
no subject
"I do. Mine is called the Crest of Blaiddyd." With a heavy 'th' in the middle. "It grants unnatural strength. The political weight of Crests has more to do with their origin with the Goddess than the powers themselves, though. Their supposed origin." (Wow, it is nice to say that out loud.)
"Who are the Silver-Eyed Warriors?"
no subject
"Mmm. That makes sense. In that way it's more like the Maidens, but that's still... different. I can't imagine that weight."
The Maidens, as she would have explained after telling the fairy tale version of their origin, are the four women who wield the elemental magic gifted to the original 'seasons' years and years ago by Ozpin. Magic that passes down not through blood, but through the final thoughts of the last maiden; whoever the maiden thinks of in her final moments, so long as its a young woman, gets the magic next. Or, someone random gets it if not.
They are arguably pawns first, people second. But there's no real politics.
"The Silver-Eyed Warriors are... are an ancient bloodline that we think may trace all the way back to a gift from the God of Light who abandoned Remnant eons ago. We are said to be protectors of life. Destined to be warriors from the moment we're born. Silver eyes can destroy most Grimm, or send them into a sort of stasis if they're too powerful to just kill. It's a very rare trait these days. Salem's had most of them killed. She's been after me for— well, ever since she realised who I was."
She only lifts her eyes from the ground again after she's finished explaining that, glancing his way.
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He can't ask who Ruby's lost to it, but the thought sits heavy in his mind.
"Salem is ... a nation? A queen? Or something else?"
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"For the longest time I wasn't living with it, is the strangest thing. No one ever told me what my eyes meant, they just told me I had my mother's eyes a lot, and then one day... they went off! So that was a real surprise!"
She says it casually enough for it to be almost believable that it was as simple as it being a surprise, almost. Of course, the reality of it was very complicated.
"But Salem is—" she breathes out, shaking her head, "—there's no non-crazy way to say this, she's an immortal witch, cursed by the Gods for defying them centuries ago. She and Ozpin have been fighting... well, that whole time, mostly in secret."
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Crunch, crunch, crunch goes the packed snow.
"And no one told you that you might be in danger?"
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Ruby laughs just a little, "You know what? That's fair. Even I didn't think ships this big were possible before here, I wouldn't have believed anyone who told me, and we did have electricity."
Though their electricity is... basically magic. Jarred lightning is even more of an accurate descriptor, actually, it's literally magic Dust that makes lightning.
Ruby kicks up some snow as they walk to watch it fall and disrupt the untouched snow ahead.
"But, nope. No one told me. If I had to guess, I'd say they thought it was protecting me to not tell me. Maybe the less people knew, the safer I was. But it would've—" another inhale and exhale, "it would've been nice to know before I discovered them on my own."
no subject
"Does Salem have some control over Grimm, then? If she wants to wipe out a power that destroys them." Dimitri sighs through his nose, sending a cold plume into the air, and momentarily distracts himself with the flicker of homesick comfort. " ... forgive me. I shouldn't pry. You don't have to answer, if you'd rather not."
cw: vague reference to a suicide attempt
"Yeah, exactly." And boy, oh boy, she has no idea just how coveted. She's aware, of course, that for some reason Salem has wanted her alive this whole time, rather than ordering her death, but... "And, really, don't worry, I've told less people about the eyes than the state of my world. Yeah, she took a certain amount of control over the Grimm when the Gods left. Not total control, not over all of them, but the last I saw her she was riding into the city of Atlas on a giant whale Grimm, so."
Beat.
"Plus she's kind of... Grimm-y herself. She threw herself into one of the pools the Grimm originated from and came out... different."
She should have died, but, well. Immortal.