[ out in the yonder void... sidon is on the move somewhere, but he'll run into nodd (almost literally) as he turns the corner, and it's emotionshare time! gimme the deets i want em ]
[ LUCKY SIDON--until recently, nodd was keeping it together. he's a monk, after all. despite his whole aura, his general vibes, he's quite good at meditation! flowing with emotional turmoil like a leaf on the breeze is part of the job description.
But it's been all day and he's not a poster child monk. By now, he's growing mildly frazzled. sort of frustrated. on the hunt for a break until he runs into sidon. or is ran into.
that is when the emotions perk up again. imagine that. sure, nodd may end up flying/landing on his ass, but the shark prince is a living pick-me-up.]
[ there is a very brief moment where he feels nodd's presence before he actually runs into him, and it should really be enough to dodge a collision, but he's still not quite used to sensing a presence in this way.
and so poor nodd ends up being sent to the ground. ahhhhhhHHHH ]
Nodd! [ he immediately offers him a hand up; he isn't the time to spiral in it, but still contriteness that runs in his emotions, genuine and alarmed. ] I'm terribly sorry—are you all right?
[ it's probably late, and there's a very broad atmosphere of Emotion around him: restless, frustrated, all-around buzzing. he's not trying to get through the locked doors anymore, but there's a knocked-over thing nearby that indicates that he's tried as he stares it down.
vibes are that of a cat with a thrashy tail. the one attached to his head even does swish a bit, angrily. hello. ]
[ seeing someone he wanted to check on is a relief every time. he takes stock of the swishing head-tail, the signs of attempting to brute strength it through.
if sidon can't bust in, hard to imagine any of the rest of them can. ]
Hey. I tried to, uh. Send you one of the I.R.I.S. texts last night, but...
[ oh, good status indicator. his head-tail is just kinda swishing here and again, distracted along with his thoughts. it goes still at being called, though. ]
Nodd! Hello. [ a bright moment, then back to something—a little grieving, still. ] You're all right? I take it you were there when they... found Scien.
he doesn't really wear much in the way of clothes, but they have accessories and whatnot and it's just fun to see what people do at The Mall, so he's enjoying himself as nodd tries on his next Ensemble. ]
[ nodd can be found being rude, smoking it up in the lounge rather than in one of the designated smoking areas. he's sitting like a queer as well, knees bent and feet lifted to press on the edge of the couch cushion. ]
[ nodd is not the only smoker on the ship, but this is the first time he's actually encountered someone in the middle of the habit. it's acrid in a way he doesn't expect. ]
Around that much.
[ he goes to sit across from nodd but with like proper posture because he's still a prince, carrying himself a little gingerly but not as though he's about to break apart. ]
[ nodd is in the processing of rebraiding his hair--presently floor length when not weaved into a more manageable shape. almost done, though, because he's stoked to find sidon here. ]
That's clever--using the sim rooms. But I agree. Having a sparring area is overdue. Are you... looking for someone to practice with?
[ lots of weird locations today and they might all look too hard at the eclipse and have a lil organ failure but it's fine. no biggie. more importantly, give me a memshare immediately onegai ]
a rift opens and swallows gay boy and shark prince.
you stand on the ornate stage of an opera house, scaled down to fit within the confines of the ambassador's expansive manor. no balcony seating, but plenty of rows to accommodate the show's current audience. it's a full house tonight.
an older woman gracefully dances overhead, wrapped in floating sphere of fire. sain and corryn, your companions, stand beneath. corryn must be figuring out the right spell for their situation. sain can only stare at his mother twirling in the flames above.
you need to deal with the other problem.
there's a monster, a mass of black ooze with mannequin limbs poking out at upsetting angles, machinery jammed into the ichor as if it were once a mechanism that had burst apart.
you hurl yourself full-body at the abomination. speed is what you have, speed and keys are what you depend on. you deliver a flurry of blows (hehe) to the monster from one side and then the next. beating it incessantly until the creature sputters and collapses.
corryn casts moonbridge--creates a tangible band of pure light that lets sain ascend and approach the flaming orb. sain shouts, "Mother!"
the dancing woman faints and her son catches her.
another spell from corryn manifests radiant light that pierces the monster hobbled by your blows. good kid. always thinking.
you thrust your full arm into the creature and wrench out a still-beating molten core heart.
something jagged pierces your palm when you crush the heart, so you drop the core back onto the bloated contraption-corpse. a mouth appears, swimming within the gore--just long enough to say:
"Killing me only freed me from her service. Now you have to deal with her yourselves."
the spotlights swing back into the seats. the audience is comprise of mannequins wearing human skin suits, clothes sewn on.
in the very back, behind the last row, scarlet, the tiefling child, stands where you left her. you saved her life two rounds ago. supposedly. less certain of that when the kid splits apart.
what seemed so well constructed a moment ago, a perfect little girl, erupts and reshapes. wider, wider, a form that threatens to tear through the theater's ceiling. great taloned feet crush the puppet audience as the massive figure rushes the stage. when it scrambles upward, you leap backwards to avoid being crushed.
it's a red dragon. a big, scary dragon with scales over a foot in length and eyeballs taller than you are.
"And now I have the Othūn and the tapestry," says scarlet-now-a-dragon. (her real name is letta the puppetmaster, you'll realize later.)
so, what can you do? you raise your voice, you shout, "I promised I'd play with you after the show!"
and she hesitates, the brat. "You'll keep your promise?"
"Of course. You just have to let those three leave."
sain and corryn protest. they don't want this. they've both lost so much, not that guy they've been tolerating, too! but you know this is the only way anyone gets out alive. it was a quick calculation. an adult dragon versus three low-levels and a knocked out npc.
"You can go after them once you're done with me. If they can escape the manor before you finish, you leave them alone for now. How about it?"
to quiet the kids, you add on: "Sain, you have what you came for. You need to go."
they do, corryn lingering at the end, staring at you with fully black eyes before turning to race out after sain and his unconscious mother.
you turn back to letta.
the second part of this boss battle is short. you survive several rounds through sheer speed, leaping off the stage and running along the backs of the theater seats. (okay, once, you scrambles over a corpse-mannequin. bad squishy.)
you don't attack letta. you're here to buy time.
when she hits you, you sail, smack hard into a weight-bearing pillar--so hard it leaves a crack in the marble. lots of cracks in you. before you can stand, she grasps you between her talons and tosses you back to the stage. the wood splinters beneath you. ow.
letta takes her time following. you have a moment to rise to your feet.
it's only been a few minutes but that will have to be enough. you're a monk, not a cleric, not a priest, not a saint, and you don't care about the gods and you've never had their favor. when you clasp your hands and stare letta down, you reach out to the hearth mother because she owes sain, not you.
Get them out. after everything, let this be enough. it's a final, defiant demand.
here is your death. what you have earned. what you avoided yet longed for.
letta lowers her jaw. the fire that engulfs you is white-hot. you surrender.
w0 ; monday
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But it's been all day and he's not a poster child monk. By now, he's growing mildly frazzled. sort of frustrated. on the hunt for a break until he runs into sidon. or is ran into.
that is when the emotions perk up again. imagine that. sure, nodd may end up flying/landing on his ass, but the shark prince is a living pick-me-up.]
Big guy! Hey you.
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and so poor nodd ends up being sent to the ground. ahhhhhhHHHH ]
Nodd! [ he immediately offers him a hand up; he isn't the time to spiral in it, but still contriteness that runs in his emotions, genuine and alarmed. ] I'm terribly sorry—are you all right?
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i swear im awake and can write
it's okay i haven't known how to write a day in my life
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w0 ; fri
vibes are that of a cat with a thrashy tail. the one attached to his head even does swish a bit, angrily. hello. ]
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if sidon can't bust in, hard to imagine any of the rest of them can. ]
Hey. I tried to, uh. Send you one of the I.R.I.S. texts last night, but...
[ you know. couldn't. ]
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Thank you for thinking of me. I'm well. Everyone I was with is safe too.
[ it evens back out slowly into something less restless, and more... ordinarily sad. concerned. ]
Are you all right, Nodd?
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w0 ; sunday post-execution
Sidon! Hey.
[ checks head-tail status. swimming? droop? ]
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Nodd! Hello. [ a bright moment, then back to something—a little grieving, still. ] You're all right? I take it you were there when they... found Scien.
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The alarm was hard to miss. What about you? Did you go in, when the barrier went down?
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w1 ; tues
he doesn't really wear much in the way of clothes, but they have accessories and whatnot and it's just fun to see what people do at The Mall, so he's enjoying himself as nodd tries on his next Ensemble. ]
You must enjoy styling yourself? [ having fun? ]
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Sidon, hey. It's something to do.
[ looking for something that will fit in on vamplanet well today. darker than what he usually wears. ]
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I understand—everyone was starting to get cabin fever, I think. It's a very nice ensemble!
[ he knows nothing about fashion. it's like, generally nice, though? ]
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w1 ; sunday, post-execution
Seven more weeks.
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Around that much.
[ he goes to sit across from nodd but with like proper posture because he's still a prince, carrying himself a little gingerly but not as though he's about to break apart. ]
Care to share what you're thinking?
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Ah, where to begin?
[ a twinge of humor in there. ]
If I'm looking for intention in chaos. Along those lines.
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w2 ; mon
I'd been using the simulations room to train, but—it's about time they gave us a place to practice!
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That's clever--using the sim rooms. But I agree. Having a sparring area is overdue. Are you... looking for someone to practice with?
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w4 ; weds
[ post paintball, there is just a guy hanging around... somewhere. outside? wherever.
he's staring expressionlessly out there, but pauses in that to give nodd a wave. ]
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god, it's the bald diluc again. the bue one. who's still playing these games? they're kinda funny. kinda dumb. ]
Hey.
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w6 ; sat
[ he hasn't been on the ship in so many weeks help ]
Show me someplace you like!
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definitely showered since he was groddy at everyone's return. now prepared to adventure. ]
Let's see--I know. The water park.
[ HEHEHE ]
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w7 ; mon
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a rift opens and swallows gay boy and shark prince.
you stand on the ornate stage of an opera house, scaled down to fit within the confines of the ambassador's expansive manor. no balcony seating, but plenty of rows to accommodate the show's current audience. it's a full house tonight.
an older woman gracefully dances overhead, wrapped in floating sphere of fire. sain and corryn, your companions, stand beneath. corryn must be figuring out the right spell for their situation. sain can only stare at his mother twirling in the flames above.
you need to deal with the other problem.
there's a monster, a mass of black ooze with mannequin limbs poking out at upsetting angles, machinery jammed into the ichor as if it were once a mechanism that had burst apart.
you hurl yourself full-body at the abomination. speed is what you have, speed and keys are what you depend on. you deliver a flurry of blows (hehe) to the monster from one side and then the next. beating it incessantly until the creature sputters and collapses.
corryn casts moonbridge--creates a tangible band of pure light that lets sain ascend and approach the flaming orb. sain shouts, "Mother!"
the dancing woman faints and her son catches her.
another spell from corryn manifests radiant light that pierces the monster hobbled by your blows. good kid. always thinking.
you thrust your full arm into the creature and wrench out a still-beating molten core heart.
something jagged pierces your palm when you crush the heart, so you drop the core back onto the bloated contraption-corpse. a mouth appears, swimming within the gore--just long enough to say:
"Killing me only freed me from her service. Now you have to deal with her yourselves."
the spotlights swing back into the seats. the audience is comprise of mannequins wearing human skin suits, clothes sewn on.
in the very back, behind the last row, scarlet, the tiefling child, stands where you left her. you saved her life two rounds ago. supposedly. less certain of that when the kid splits apart.
what seemed so well constructed a moment ago, a perfect little girl, erupts and reshapes. wider, wider, a form that threatens to tear through the theater's ceiling. great taloned feet crush the puppet audience as the massive figure rushes the stage. when it scrambles upward, you leap backwards to avoid being crushed.
it's a red dragon. a big, scary dragon with scales over a foot in length and eyeballs taller than you are.
"And now I have the Othūn and the tapestry," says scarlet-now-a-dragon. (her real name is letta the puppetmaster, you'll realize later.)
so, what can you do? you raise your voice, you shout, "I promised I'd play with you after the show!"
and she hesitates, the brat. "You'll keep your promise?"
"Of course. You just have to let those three leave."
sain and corryn protest. they don't want this. they've both lost so much, not that guy they've been tolerating, too! but you know this is the only way anyone gets out alive. it was a quick calculation. an adult dragon versus three low-levels and a knocked out npc.
"You can go after them once you're done with me. If they can escape the manor before you finish, you leave them alone for now. How about it?"
to quiet the kids, you add on: "Sain, you have what you came for. You need to go."
they do, corryn lingering at the end, staring at you with fully black eyes before turning to race out after sain and his unconscious mother.
you turn back to letta.
the second part of this boss battle is short. you survive several rounds through sheer speed, leaping off the stage and running along the backs of the theater seats. (okay, once, you scrambles over a corpse-mannequin. bad squishy.)
you don't attack letta. you're here to buy time.
when she hits you, you sail, smack hard into a weight-bearing pillar--so hard it leaves a crack in the marble. lots of cracks in you. before you can stand, she grasps you between her talons and tosses you back to the stage. the wood splinters beneath you. ow.
letta takes her time following. you have a moment to rise to your feet.
it's only been a few minutes but that will have to be enough. you're a monk, not a cleric, not a priest, not a saint, and you don't care about the gods and you've never had their favor. when you clasp your hands and stare letta down, you reach out to the hearth mother because she owes sain, not you.
Get them out. after everything, let this be enough. it's a final, defiant demand.
here is your death. what you have earned. what you avoided yet longed for.
letta lowers her jaw. the fire that engulfs you is white-hot. you surrender.
and boom memory over. ]
w7 ; sat
To victory!
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Who would've thought?