selenokinesis: (bw. 07)
Harque "Babygirl" Ebalon ([personal profile] selenokinesis) wrote in [community profile] come_sailaway2022-10-01 12:45 am

☽ It takes a monster to destroy a monster

Who: Ebalon & All Y'all
What: Ebalon blows himself up with a portal. There is an ensuing tantrum when he comes back to life.
When: 10/6 (initial explosion); 10/9 (everything else)
Where: The Atrium, Promenade, Ebalon's Cabin, & Sports Deck
Warnings: Unintentional death by explosions, gore & gross descriptions, general violence, Ebalon being himself



[Mid-afternoon, an explosion originating from the atrium rings out loud and clear. Though it isn't enough to rock the ship, small in nature as it is, it is enough to leave a sizeable hole in the middle of the floor, where one might fall through if they aren't careful. Lying wedged into the partially-destroyed floor are the smouldering, red-hot remnants of a portal frame, the top half entirely missing, though if one looks hard enough they might find the shrapnel lying some hundreds of feet off. Next to it, hanging precariously on the edge and about to drop into the hole, is a torso-sized, faceted white crystal. It pulses brightly once, twice, and finally fades out.

...

Somewhere on the promenade, a shower of blood and offal rains down from above, bits of torn intestines and strands of stark white hair decorating the brightly-lit strip.]


Cabin 101 - Closed to Established CR
[The door to Ebalon's cabin is open on the 9th.

It's a semi-open invitation to come talk to him. "Hey, how are you doing, sorry you died" or "hey fuckface we told you that wouldn't work" or "what the fuck were you thinking", something to that effect. If he doesn't like you, there's a high chance he'll turn you away at the door.

Ebalon is sitting at his desk, furiously scrawling something into his notebook on a page dated "10/07". Sitting atop it is that large, white crystal spotted at one of two initial crime scenes, recovered and scratched and as inert as the day he received it. He had managed to temporarily charge it long enough to power the portal, but in its current state, it is — again — useless to him.

Annoyed and yet again throwing himself into his work to avoid the tumultuous emotions stirring in his chest, Ebalon taps his pen against the inert Moon El, looking more frustrated than anything right about now. More concerning than his expression might be the visible corruption on his face and neck almost the colour of a bruise, etched with a bright blue motherboard pattern. That same pattern appears on both hands, though Ebalon very clearly is making his best attempt to ignore it.

He hardly looks up as you enter. Unless your name is Mizuki, and then he's immediately getting up from his chair for an embrace.]


Sports Deck - OTA
[Chagrin can only be ignored for so long before it festers like a gangrenous wound.

Ebalon makes his way to the sports deck, staff clutched tightly in his left hand while his spellbook floats after him at a brisk pace, pages fluttering in the breeze. It's late, just a bit before midnight on the night of the full moon, and he's in no mood to talk to any fellow night-owls on his way. In fact, talking to him in general is likely a bad idea (though you're always welcome to try), given that his first action upon arriving at his destination is to easily and effortlessly obliterate a part of the court with a shower of black-coloured magic. A crest flares at his back, glowing an ominous purple.

One failed idea after another. A permanent cycle of living aboard this ship. The inability to do a single thing about not only his own situation, but the situations of the people here stuck with him. Helpless, hopeless, useless, how can a man like him become someone else's toy?!

White-hot fury reaches a boiling point. With a sudden, jerky motion, he swings his staff wide and points it at the odd, ball-shaped tower nearby, eradicating it entirely with a single moonbeam. It does little to sate him, and, in fact, he thinks he might just be up for destroying this entire section of the ship. And more, perhaps!

Why not just cast them all into oblivion for eternity? It's all they're going to get at this rate! Why not give up? Give in? Spill blood as much as he wants, because it's not like any of this matters anyhow!

Ebalon takes a deep breath, tilting his head back to look at the moon. A short reprieve, as he distantly wonders if he can possibly get to the ship's engines and blow them up. If it would stick. If permadeath is better than an eternity constrained to servitude.

With a deep, exhausted sigh, his attacks continue.]


Wildcard
[Sorry I only have two prompts here, please feel free to wildcard something if these don't work for you. Ebalon is usually spotted in the library or Hurikane these days if you want to talk to him somewhere else!]
makesomedeals: (Tailored)

[personal profile] makesomedeals 2022-10-21 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[That is... shockingly an analogy he totally understands. Leave it to his nemesis here to be able to explain magic in a way that his actual friend cannot.]

So you have magical parameters. Here for instance, some have found they have certain powers stripped, those who are immortal can die, and some things do not behave in the same way they would in our home world. I see.

[Weirdly, he actually does. Ugh. Is he going to have to come to Ebalon of all people when he needs explaining on how Magic works?]

Yes. Technically. You did in fact teleport all of you from one side to the other. Just not in a format that's helpful to you.

You're going to interrogate the Captain? Should I expect to see you in pieces again afterwards?