headed straight for the witches' castle

[groundrules]

Welcome to the bashful event covering 17 September – 9 October, working double duty as a test drive meme (TDM).

Existing players can strut their stuff here, or make separate logs & network posts. Our TDMing guests are stranded in this playground, but can include network options among play prompts.

If you’re test driving a character, you can apply them until 8 October without a game invite. Apps stay open beyond that, but you might need an invite or please get in touch @ groundrules to figure something out..

SCALE THE TOWER

---

Cousins Macaluso and Vannozza Spina vie for the favour of the witches of Bessis, in their bid to succeed their grandfather Bonaccorso as liege of magical citadel Taravast. In exchange for their endorsement, the Bessis have asked both electoral candidates to present extraordinary sorcery at a fete commemorating the Bessis truce with fellow court witches of Attaryl.

On the day of the distasteful masque held in the upper levels of the Bessis tower, characters assigned to support Macaluso and Vannozza will split into two espionage missions — one upstairs alongside courtiers, charlatans and the Bessis, and another deep below, crossing abandoned aqueducts. Characters can participate in either effort, but should be discreet if they’re working against their patron.

It’s all fun and games if you’re enjoying Bessis hospitality upstairs — test drive characters might be rating their hotel stay a little less enthusiastically.

TDM TOURISTS | UPSTAIRS (TEAM MACALUSO) | DOWN BELOW (TEAM VANNOZZA) | COMMON TIMELINE | NOTES & MAP



TDM TOURISTS

Days ago, you woke up sequestered in an immense bird cage, chained near the ceiling of a tall, dark room that once served as a library or academic hall. Imprisoned with you are several strangers, equally warded from their supernatural powers and partly sedated — all the better to amuse the nearly two dozen (visibly) undead who roam the room, despite being loosely fettered to posts. They often swing for your cage, but fail to reach it.

■ Sorcerer sentries briefly release characters daily to feed or bathe in a repurposed nearby quarter with a large pool.

■ Characters receive basic devices that translate speech and writing, so they can understand their caretakers’ instructions. All along, the guards urge, Keep the animals distracted.

■ The undead reek of burning and wail their hurts. They are gifted in telepathy and often mentally share memories of carnage — two armies of sorcerers, one raining fire upon its enemies. At night, the undead seek to control the minds of caged characters, luring them to come down or harm others.

■ Necromancers sometimes visit to study the undead. The latest necromancer guest temporarily immobilises the creatures and throws three bundles of identical keys into the cage — he reveals he is employed by a Merchant, who wants the outsiders to travel east and return to their homes. They are currently in Taravast, captives of the witches of Bessis, who hold annual celebrations tonight. The keys will help with escaping the cage and accessing nearby tunnels.

■ The necromancer leaves behind rope, two daggers, and three potion vials that generate mist once smashed on the ground. Leave within an hour of your dinner, he says, before releasing the undead from his magic.

■ Get out. As soon as you can, running like hell from guards and the undead. If caught, the undead will rip you to bathe in your body’s waters and ease their burns.

■ The underground tower tunnels are patrolled by guards, who can be overpowered by groups. Characters will recover any supernatural powers within 40 minutes of leaving their prison. Escape tip? Steal the guards’ clothes.

■ The tunnels inevitably lead to the aqueducts, allowing you to meet Vannozza’s group.

» GET WET



UPSTAIRS

The halls of the Bessis sprawl over a pristine ivory tower, whose walls refract light in homage to the witches’ devotion to fire.

The tower receives guests today to celebrate the armistice between the sorcery schools of Bessis and Attaryl. The two groups futilely sought to slaughter each other many moons ago, with the Bessis notoriously gaining the upper hand — explaining the tense smiles of the Attaryl witches on premise.

The event is a standard Taravast masque: if there were coin to spare, someone poured it into the obscene dining displays and alcoholic fountains. Enjoy dimmed lights, the rare pickpocket or recreational narcotic — or test your luck at gambling tables, where winners can claim a forcibly extorted secret from losers over games of dice or cards.

Come masked and visibly unarmed — weapons are confiscated at the doors. Smuggle them in. Just outside the tower, take a walk through labyrinthine walled gardens surrounding a deep water moat and leading to abandoned aqueduct pipelines.

OF NOTE:

■ Magical sentries — armed with swords and fire spells — watch the banquet halls, stairs and outside grounds.

■ Bessis practitioners showcase fire, wind, water and air dances in the reception halls, along with performing token duels. Get involved, if you want.

■ Don Urbano, a respected Bessis sorcerer returned from abroad, announces his betrothal with Wen Qing, as orchestrated and financed by Beitang Moran.

■ Come sundown, Macaluso invites fete guests, Vannozza and the Bessis to join him on the balconies and behold the canal moats, where swims his recently captured white dragon. The creature is magnificent but tense, its ice power crackling.

ASSIGNMENTS:

■ Run recon of the halls. Keep track of guards, divert them from the aqueducts and alert your friends downstairs of their presence. Be obnoxious, loud and attention-grabbing when sentries get near the opened aqueduct entrance.

■ One of the night’s most profligate gamblers, Caterina Zalle, leads a coalition that produces magical weapons. She is allegedly in talks with forces abroad that fight their undead oppressors. Even tipsy, she only speaks with those who best her at the gambling table — pair up and figure out how to cheat improve your chances, then drop a line here to win donna Caterina’s answer(s).

» SMILE AND CARRY ON



DOWN BELOW

A jaded spirit, Vannozza knows Macaluso’s historical patronage of the Bessis makes them unlikely to favour her. Better to take advantage of leaked information: the Bessis hide a secret that’s required them to mysteriously invite necromancers each day. Learn what the Bessis are shrouding, so Vannozza can extort them later.

The lady offers her protegees — and anyone dragged along for the ride — a map to abandoned aqueducts accessible through the sentry-patrolled gardens that surround the tower of the Bessis. Guards will be thinner at the start of the evening festivities, but keep in touch with your counterparts upstairs, who can distract them while you infiltrate.

■ The aqueducts can be entered through a shielded gateway that will require characters to dig extensively for access. Divert the guards creatively: use magic, tricks, everyone is a hapless beggar or a drunk...

■ The intricate waterways once served Bessis sorcerers who specialise in water arts. The pipelines range from roomy and rusted to highly claustrophobic and slick with a coating of dark tar that gradually starts to follow you.

■ You find out quickly why the pipes were abandoned: the tar starts to accrue behind you, taking your shape and diplomatically doing its best to choke or drown you. Luckily, the creatures disperse after scant minutes — characters who traversed the Stairs of Sighs will recognise this is the same molten tar found in the rocky corridors.

■ Brace yourselves — for a short stretch, the canal dips into the moat surrounding the tower, home to Macaluso’s dragon. The creature is currently peaceful, but its constant chill has largely frozen the waters. Swim across the moat through ice pellets to re-enter the canals.

■ The aqueducts ease characters into pool quarters, which show signs of recent use for bathing. In the nearby corridors, guards are posted before a room that erupts in frequent howls. Get in, somehow —

■ ...and find a large study hall with an immense suspended cage, a series of freshly freed newcomers and undead witches, who use telepathy, levitation and light mind control to their advantage.

■ Now, you take your newcomer fools, choose between returning through the aqueducts or daring the heavily guarded tower corridors — and you run.

» UP WE GO



EVERYONE TOGETHER NOW

Nothing spices a party like nearly two dozen undead witches that seek to salve their burn wounds with the blood of the living. Some undead invade the banquet halls, others the gardens, while a few head into the aqueducts. They use telepathy, levitation and mind control diligently — and wear the decayed insignia of witches of Attaryl.

The chaos and the undead that enter the moat agitate the water dragon, who goes on hours of rampage, breathing sheets and walls of ice around the tower and effectively locking everyone within for two-three days.

...with the wandering undead. The witches of Bessis assist with fire magic and torches, but it’s every man for himself. Beware: the dragon starts with magical attacks, but quickly progresses to throwing itself bodily to topple the tower.

TO-DO LIST:

■ Calm or immobilise the berserk dragon to ease the ice storms
■ Capture the fire-fearing undead
■ Protect and evacuate Taravast’s useless 1%
■ Stay alive?

NOTES & MAP

■ Old timers: GO HERE to vote on the fates of the dragon and later, the undead! And ask any questions you might have.

■ TDMers: TDM events count as game canon if you app in! TDM questions here.

Comments

DONNA CATERINA

[groundrules]

Drop a link here to your thread where you've finessed the art of.. cheating a good woman out of her secrets, and a NPC thread will happen for you. Feel bad. Feel very bad. You're cheating at the noble art of gambling.

hermione granger (hp)

[reparo]

(for the fellow tourists) birds of a feather

[The first night is hard. The undead reek, and their thoughts travel in ways that reek of Dark Arts, for which she spends the entire night with her fingers in her ears and her eyes closed, reciting passages of Hogwarts: A History under her breath to calm down, then passages of Beedle the Bard. She read that book from front to back in the last six months, trying to figure out why Dumbledore would've gifted her anything in his will, trying to figure out how she would help Harry, if she could help Harry.

(Also, as an aside: does she not deserve a break? Months on the run, her parents Obliviated and in Australia, and surviving the Battle at Hogwarts and what's her reward? Waking up locked up in a strange place with an army of undead beneath the cage that holds her? Madness!)

(As another aside: she might lose her mind.)

And yes, in conclusion, the first night is hard. The next day, they are given crystals, and in any other world, Hermione would marvel at the magic that imbues them, something that lets her understand her captors - and her fellow-prisoners - at last, except for the fact that what she hears is blood curling.]

Hey - hey - we are not animals! [Reckless. So foolish. Shouted at the guard - snapped really - before she can even stop and think. She realises, from the look she gets, that her words went in one ear and went out through the other. With a huff, she jostles the crystal, and tries to get it to work in reverse, make it translate her to them, still speaking it clearly:] We are not animals. Release us. We are not animals - release us. We are not - argh, bloody baubles!

(for everyone) escaaaaaaaaaaaape

[She's free - she's running. If a few days prior, she would have been upset to be on the run again, at this stage she is grateful to be free, and grateful she gets to run. So she starts running, her pulse skyrocketted, adrenaline high. Under her breath, the desperate plan:]

Get the wand, get out, get the wand - [Oh - no - she's running. The wand, the guards - she saw it in a box with belongings of the other prisoners, probably mistaken for a stick, and she'll be damned if she leaves this place without it. She stops mid-run, does a one-eighty degree turn and sorts through the group of fellow cage-dwellers on her way back into the room they were just freed from.

She sees that look, you!] It's fine, keep going! I just need to get my wand - and then I'll help!

e s c a p e

[downswing]

[ The guards, the dead, the girl, the riot —; outside, the spell of white, thundered sound and the thrashing that quivers stone walls, and he knows, in the belly of the tower, on stairs descending to the prison halls, knows the dragon creature's unleashed itself.

Too many steps, brittle and spiked energy and the crackle of fire as the witches come alive in the corridor. The dead descend on them — in this, hand steady on his sword, pose serpentine before the strike, Lan Wangji is fortunate. Their pursuers are different from the dead of before, faster, more predatory. Lan Wangji pivots, nearly sets to strike, but then...

...one of the girls who had swum in the crowd of manic-stricken, white bright-eyed fleeing prisoners turns in her path. Fights to carve her way back, where the flood of dead proves unending, and Lan Wangji raises his sheathed sword, Bichen's iced gleam warning, introducing it to the side as barrier, to cut the girl's advance. Listen: ]

They will bar your path. [ No, she is young in this, they are always young before slaughter. He must speak the plainer for it: ] They will savage you.

escape!

[lancifolium]

[ Wand?

Lily had been so focused on covering their retreat that she nearly misses the word being used by someone further up ahead, and the surprise of it causes her to trip over her own feet. She had become used to being anomalous in this world for her use of a wand, and hearing someone else asking of one sent a ripple of hope through her. Merlin's beard they even sounded English.

Regaining her footing as the young woman moving against the flow of the rest of the group came into view Lily darted to her side. ]

I can help you.

[ Giving the stranger a solemn nod she held up her own wand before tilting her head in the direction they had come from. ]

Let's go.

birds of a feather

[leviable]

Oi. ( there’s movement in the corner and a thin hand appears out of the shadows, one finger pointing directly at the girl who’s been making all that noise. )

Are you trying to get us all killed? ( levi had been remaining still for hours now in an attempt to conserve his energy. he'd been bidding his time -- waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. now that the sedation's worn off and his disorientation's gone, he's ready to come up with a plan for an escape. because fuck this shit. )

Quit bringing attention to yourself. ( his voice comes out somewhat raspy and broken. unlike the girl, he hasn't spoken a word since he'd found himself in this stinking hell hole. )

birds of a feather

[chosenfordarkness]

[ The only reason he hasn't jumped up and attempted escape or tried to overpower their oh-so-wonderful captors is for the sake of everyone else. After taking inventory, he silently decided that they're all just civilians who probably don't have much power between them without being properly armed and..not in a cage hanging over some hungry ghouls.

The tactic of 'sit and wait' has never been easy for Anakin, but times change, and biding his time seems more beneficial since he doesn't have a lot of information. He's reclined nearby, studying the chain that holds the cage suspended. ]

The problem with people like that is that if they have power over someone, little else matters. They stop seeing people as people and instead treat them little better than livestock.

[ Bitter, who's bitter? ]

klaus hargreeves | the umbrella academy

[imprudency]

a gilded cage: tourists;

[ To say that he's woken up in stranger, more obscure places before is not an understatement. In fact, he'd wager that waking up, kept in a chained cage with the occasional scream and moan of the disfigured undead around him? Not so bad. ]

You're a real peach, you know. [ He laughs, sing song and low in his throat as he tips his head back against the bars. The comment is directed at one of the necromancers who mostly ignores him and allows one of the undead to give an angry shove at the cage. ] The sedatives really take the edge off, and the chains, darling, all you had to do was ask. No respect at all.

[ Another push, another swing and Klaus wonders if he'll throw up whatever is left of his stomach. Last week's (read: months and months) alcohol is doing its number on him and though the sedatives give him a warm, pleasant sort of high, it does nothing for the shakes and the sweats.

It does nothing for the god awful things in the cage with them. He becomes more and more unsettled by their wails, and no matter how tightly he closes his eyes in between taunts, they don't Stop. Images drift in and out of his head, and he groans, turning to look at the next unsuspecting victim. At least he can talk over the noise. ]

They go through all this trouble to play kinky in zombie land and they don't even give us the good stuff. I mean we've got Belinda over there with the missing jaw, and I don't know what is going on with John and Suzie over there but they should really get that looked at. Had a case myself once, the itching was terrible.

run boy run: the escape - open

[ The moment the necromancer drops the keys, Klaus scrambles. There's no calling the troops, no organizing his fellow cage-mates, there's just the adrenaline of fear and panic that has him fumbling his way out. He barely recalls the rope, the mist, the panic. The wails of the undead make his skin crawl, and for a foolish moment he raises his hands, blinks his eyes open and shut a few times, and sucks in a deep breath. Maybe, maybe, he can rally a different kind of troop.

No answer. He stares at his hands, dumbfounded, and tries again, before he's shoved by another newcomer. ]

Shit, shit, shit.

[ Panic claws its way up his throat. Too many days without something to numb out the noise and suddenly the chaos makes his skin crawl. One guard swings at a cage dweller and he swings back, flooring the guard and immediately having to dodge the swipe of one of the undead. ]

Sheesh, don't you think you're coming on a little strong? [ He kicks one square in the chest as it lunges again, and he turns to run the moment he hears doors open, the moment there's a way out. He springs for it, and when he hears a very human wail behind him (one of the undead ripping a cage deweller apart) he all but slams into someone else round the bend and falls, scrambling to get back to his feet amid thundering escapees around him. He raises his hands up over his ears when another scream echoes out, shrill and agonized, and he realizes the sedatives are slowly beginning to wear off. He's not really looking at the other person as he pushes up to his knees, his feet. ]

Fuck. Love to stay and chat but we have to go.

run boy run

[rumorate]

[The body collides with hers, and it feels almost like the wind's been taken out of her. As all the people rushing out, trying to get away - not that he blames them. Who keeps zombies in a basement?

... Actually, the basement may be the best place to keep zombies. Better question: who stores live people in a basement full of zombies?

When she recovers and looks up to meet the eyes of the other person, annoyance is immediately replaced with delight.]

Klaus?

[He's not wrong, they have to go, but she wants to make sure it's him.]

lorna dane | the gifted

[chromiums]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

TOURISTS

[ it's not the first prison lorna's been subjected to, and she reacts about as well to this one as she did with the others. the first few hours lead to her rising unsteadily to her feet to try charging at the walls of the cage, but the movement makes her nauseous, her head spinning and vision tilting, every step forward feeling as if she's moving underwater. the reek of the decomposing creatures swinging at her and the rest of the prisoners doesn't help, but worse than the nausea is the lack of her ability, the usual undercurrent of metal detection totally absent no matter how hard she tries to reach for it.

there's no collar constricting her throat, but she's still being sedated, kept from being able to fight and save herself, and more than that she doesn't recognize anyone here. they'd followed clarice, and that's the last thing she remembers from home. is this where she'd lead them? if it is, why is she the only one here?

is she the only one of the underground left alive? ]

ESCAPE (part one, tourists)

[ no matter how angry or frightened you are, you learn to recognize how to cope with different prisons, if only to retain your own sanity so you don't fall victim to them. the telepathic projections are a shock at first, and lorna nearly vomits from the assault on her senses, but after a few months of living with telepaths she's learned a few things about tuning projections of thoughts that aren't hers out. after a while, they're a nuisance, but not debilitating anymore.

the necromancers come by, tossing them keys and weapons and explaining why they're here and how to get out, and lorna's eyebrows raise as she listens. to her credit, she doesn't lunge for the daggers right away, but she gets her hands on one eventually, tucking it into her sleeve. even without her ability to manipulate metal, she's still pretty handy with a blade.

another prisoner spots her, and she nods to them, another raised eyebrow turned onto them. ]

You're welcome to the rope, if you want it.

ESCAPE (part two, open)

[ lorna's not the one who drops the vials and starts the escape. she's not sure who is. but she's ready for it when it starts, ducking to pull up whoever might be seated or not paying attention and pushing them towards the exit. ]

This is our chance, run! Don't let them touch you!

[ once a few people are ahead of her, she follows, the dagger slipping out of her sleeve to slash at the limbs of the guards who try to reach for her and whoever's running with her or behind her. she tries to avoid the throats of the guards, to draw the undead to them instead of the prisoners, and she doesn't look behind her when she hears them scream as their flesh gets torn apart.

maybe it should bother her. it doesn't. her only focus is getting herself and as many people as possible out of danger. ]

WILDCARD (open)

[ feel free to mix and match to make things work for you! ]

tourists - birds of a feather

[reparo]

[She's beginning to understand why prisoners stalk to each other despite the terrifying situation they are in. Before Taravast, before this blasted cage, there was nothing she could compare it to - even in Malfoy Manor, it was Ron and Harry that ended up in the dungeons with the others, not her

(don't think about that)

- but she understands why now.

They are being fed, and told to wash, but other than that, the only interaction they could have is with each other. After all, the undead below are more into forcing thoughts into their heads than having a spirited debate.

Hermione finds herself at Lorna's side one of those days, pulling out a parcel wrapped in fabric, and offering her a dry biscuit.]

Might help with the nausea.

Beitang Moran (already in game)

[beitangmoran]

A. Get Wet (upstairs)

[Yes, Moran is technically on Lady Vannozza's side, so he should have gone prancing in the tunnels. And it's not like he particularly minds, he's a soldier, he's had to do with uncomfortable circumstances before.

But his main talent has always been politics, and he figures he should be around when Don Urbano makes his announcement of the betrothal, and so he is, smiling benevolently. And keeping an eye on people, and also smoothly inventing excuses for why ... certain people are not visible, including spinning the previous poisoning attempt into certain people being a bit fearful. He says it with both compassion and just a tiny little bit of shade, enough to incite some gossip, at least.

The dragon laves him with a bit of perplexity.]

Well, it's a matter or when, not if, it's going to be a problem. Don Macaluso may not have thought this one through. As usual.

[That man really is all flashy exterior and little substance, and also not the best at imagining consequences.]

B. Everyone together now

[Hello, Mayhem and Chaos, it was only a matter of time, just as Moran thought.

There is an unpleasant moment of... reminiscence, and he tries to ignore to phantom taste of blood in his mouth, the smell of it, how it felt viscous on his hands.... No, this is past, done and over with.

And his mind, ever sharp, does not waste the occasion, turning to Don Urbano.]

You dare!

[He has a lifetime of royal scoldings to draw on.]

I offered my own blood as an alliance, and here you are, a purveyor of dead flesh! How many dark secrets are you hiding? Consider the matter revoked, sir! I will not allow this to proceed knowing what I know of you now!

B

[topoiran]

[ A very casual, extremely unconnected masked Macaluso supporter wanders in at this point, covering his mouth with a lacy fan. ]

How dreadful! The fair lady must be rescued at all costs!

[ He's fine. Though Moran knows him enough to realize Xunxian's attention is divided between the play at hand and the dragon.

Because he can understand the large creature and that means he can possibly communicate, and maybe that can save lives? ]

Xie Lian (Already in game)

[scrapgege]

[Xie Lian probably should have stayed upstairs, but he's more equipped to traipse through underground tunnels han most, and really, this is almost nostalgic.

The tar creatures are annoying but not very strong, thankfully, and they recover the captives alright, but once they get to the moat... Well.]

Go on ahead, I'll stay behind just in case.

[The dragon seems a little agitated, and becoming more so by the minute, so he... distract it if he has to. As the big head starts to move towards the sound of people swimming, Xie Lian splashes the water where he is and calls out.]

Hello! Over here! Look, I'm making more noise!

[As soon as the dragon actually turns to him, he holds out his right hands and Ruoye, his white silk bandage, shoots out, contorting in the sky almost like a snake to grab attention.

It manages to avoid the fangs, mostly, but the dragon is massive, and in its twists and turns, Ruoye ends up tangled around one of the huge spikes on the dragon's back. And said dragon is now irritated. And Ruoye is still tied to Xie Lian's wrists...

He might be a god, and a very strong one, but this is a dragon. He barely has a second to realize what is happening, before he is airborne, dragged behind the huge beast like a very small and unfortunate kite.]

Ruoye, nooooooooooo....

[If you were following behind him, well, he's gone.]

[downswing]

[ It... cuts a sight. Blinding, glistened, foolish. From the balcony Lan Wangji has infiltrated, in mad attempt to segue from the inner corridors out to light, the greyed horizon.

The creature runs rampant, thrashing, thin shell of brick and mortar rattled under its frequent onslaught. It batters the walls, and though Lan Wangji for now has rescued balance beneath a storm of ice pellets and chills, it will not last. Their moments, their breaths are counted.

He sees the creature ascent, coiling around the tower, strangling it — and on its back, as if a plague, the familiar silhouette of Xie Lian, fettered. This fool, finding his place and purpose wherever disaster is bound. And Lan Wangji, compelled to follow in the wake of chaos.

First, the talismans: Wei Ying's creations, aimed as careful as the long range allows. One straddles well below Xie Lian, another inches closer. The third comes closer to the dragon's eyelid. Body-binding, more likely to prickle than cause actual impact, relative to the creature's scale. Still, Lan Wangji screams, lungs run raw — ]

Cut loose!

Doctor | Doctor Who | Tourist

[funnylittleclown]

[ Caged - Tourists ]

[ It wasn't the first time the Doctor had found himself waking up in a cage but a cage suspended over a room full of the living undead was unique. Unwelcomed charred hands reached up for them but thankfully their prison was kept hanging just that short distance higher than those seeking fingertips. ]

Oh, poor creatures. Still... I'd rather be up here than down there. I shouldn't think they would be at all friendly.

[ He sniffed, already sensing the mental clawing of the undead below whose minds seemed focused on sharing images of death, destruction, burning... and if one listened too long a sense that those they were sharing a cage with would be much better off if they were tossed into the waiting claws of those below. No. No! One had to block out those thoughts, think of something much lighter. ]

Not friendly at all!

[ The Doctor's eyes closed briefly, focusing his will on blocking out mental intrusions, as his hands frantically searched his pockets to see what if anything of his pocket treasures might have been left to him. With a happy satisfaction he noted that either he had not been searched or nothing he carried was seen to have any value for escape. And he supposed not as they were all just trinkets but for distraction... His recorder would do nicely! ]

Right. Anyone for a song? It might help to pass the time away.

[ And keep everyone's thoughts away from the murder and destruction of their fellow prisoners. ]

How about 'Teddy Bears' Picnic'?

[ Without waiting for an answer he began to play. It was annoying, occasionally shrill, but perhaps it would work as a distraction to get them through the night? ]


[ Bath Escape Attempt - Tourists ]

[ It was a relief on those few occasions when they were let out of their hanging prison and ushered into the pool room for a quick bath. It gave one a chance to stretch one's legs and ever so gradually move to stand beside one of their guards. There wasn't much known about these men, only that they were guards and did become some what nervous when approached... This is why it was best done gently. ]

Nice day for a swim, isn't it?

[ A touch of frivolousness didn't seem to hurt either. A silly idiot like him couldn't do anyone any harm! ]

Tell me, have you ever seen one of these before?

[ He held up one of his treasures, this time it was a short length of string which had been fashioned into a cat's cradle. As the guard looked the Doctor moved his hands in the traditional cats cradle game manner, back forth, around, until the length of string looked impossibly tied into a knot, and then with a twist it was free like it had never been tied to begin with. This was enough to puzzle the guard. ]

Now you try. Just place you hand in the middle there, good, just like that. Now, I move the strings like this...

[ The Doctor twisted the strings just as he had before only this time when the game was over the surprised guard would find his hands hopelessly tied together. ]

And tah dah! Just like that! Now I'm afraid I really must be going... Everyone run!

[ He charged for the door, as quick as the tricky devil could and might have made it too as the now bound guards couldn't lift his hands to perform any of his magics, unfortunately there were two guards and the second one was a quick draw with a spell. The Doctor was zapped mid-hop and send splashing unconsciously into the pool. ]


[ Escape - All ]

[ His head was still reeling a bit from yesterday's encounter with the guards but when the time came he ran as quickly as he could after the others... still managing to be the last one out. Not a great sprinter this one but he tried his best to run/hop after the other escapees and close as many doors behind them as he could on the way out to make it that much more difficult for those who might end up trying to pursue them.

The underground tunnels were a maze of twisting tubes which seemed to lead off in every conceivable direction and they were uncomfortably damp. One could hear the shrieks of the undead behind them and the steady pacing of the guards just ahead. ]

I think... we are in need of a plan...

[Escape - All]

[scrapgege]

It's fine, don't worry.

[The young man wearing some sort of red and white pirate get up with a mask doesn't look worried, indeed.]

The guards are only human. Leave the others to me.

Anakin Skywalker || Star Wars

[chosenfordarkness]

i;; boy, they've sure caged the tourism market
[ Being captured is something that really shouldn’t feel familiar, and yet, Anakin is practically an expert. Waking up somewhere unfamiliar without access to the Force is also another problem that isn’t exactly new, either. Ah, the perks of being a Jedi in the midst of a war. The disorientation he could do without. Whatever is pumping through his system keeps him uncoordinated enough not to test his boundaries. Yet.

At first, he tries meditation, borrowing one of his former-Master’s favorite go-to’s in an apparent hostage situation since there doesn’t seem to be anyone in charge for him to snark at. His mouth does tend to get him into more trouble, but he can’t (and won’t) help it. When that fails to bring forth any results, he takes to pacing the length of the cage despite how his legs threaten to buckle. Looking for a way out or to somehow put himself at an advantage. Only one physical problem gives him any pause.

It’s the undead milling around below them and making occasional swipes for the cage.

The smell is atrocious, but it’s something he’s able to tune out after a while. Being on a battlefield and other unfavorable conditions that come with the job makes you nose blind past a certain point. That, and the others that are as trapped as he is. He knows his own abilities, but nothing of anyone else. Realistically, without his connection to the Force, he doesn’t have much more of a leg up.

He breaks his concentration to look over at whoever is nearest, his expression unimpressed. ]

You know, as far as creative prisons go, this one’s not bad. ‘Giant cage suspended over hungry creatures’ is a bit overdone, though.

ii;;something something escape pun, ota
[ The opportunity to escape isn’t the one he’s expecting, but it’s taken regardless. One doesn’t look a gift bantha in the mouth. While others scramble for the keys, he’s more than happy to take up the rope and get it secured around one of the bars. The knots should hold his own weight, so others should be fine.

He doesn’t feel that same surge of panic in the need to flee that others might, he’s always done best on the fly. Especially when things go awry. With the undead immobilized, they’re all at an advantage, but time can’t be taken for granted. ]

Everybody get down one at a time. If you don’t think you can do it, I’ll get you down.

[ Not quite like commanding clone troopers, but it gives Anakin that steady focus he’s been craving since he woke up in this place. Once everyone is down, he slides down the rope with ease and goes over to the box of confiscated items. Yeah, he’ll be taking that lightsaber back now. It gets clipped to his belt for the meantime, not wanting to draw attention to their escape or call reinforcements. Looking around, he spots the last of them. ]

Hope you’ve got what they took because now we’ve gotta move.

iii;; wildcard
[ If these don't strike your fancy or you have something else in mind, feel free to go crazy or dm me and we can hash something out! ]

i

[callamities]

[ "Whoever's nearest" happens to be what appears to be a young man crouched on the floor of the cage, frowning deeply. He looks over when Anakin speaks, revealing a glowing filigree pattern curled around one eye. ]

Have you done one like this before? [ he asks, a flicker of hope breaking through the grimace on his face. ] It is... like a game?

Calla | Original Character | Tourist

[callamities]

i. imprisoned
[ How does a being that has never set foot outside a casino react to being plopped into a cage in a spooky wizard’s tower suspended over a horde of undead?

As it turns out, not very well. Calla has little enough context to make sense of where he is or what’s happening to him, but he knows enough to decide that he absolutely does not like it at all. The swinging of the cage, the moaning of the creatures below, the nonsense images of raining fire that flit through his mind—and that’s not even the worst of it.

The worst is the constant presence of people around him and the random, inexplicable urge he gets to attack them.

Calla has never attacked anyone. In fact, before he came here, he had never even fathomed violence as an option. He doesn’t even know if the people around him are humans or not, but either way, his desire to harm them is unacceptable—that is not the kind of Sim-Res he was programmed for.

After nearly three days of this ordeal, most of which Calla spends curled up with his eyes closed, it becomes too much. Face blank, he stands, walks to the edge of the cage—and attempts to stick an arm through. And then a leg. He can’t get either limb entirely past the narrow gap between the bars, but it does spark some interest from the undead below, some of which come perilously close to grabbing him.

To anyone else in the cage, it certainly does look like a young man with a glowing face tattoo and silk vest is attempting to feed himself to the horde. There’s also the matter of the sound—a fast-tempo tick-tick-tick, as if he’s swallowed a metronome—though, the observant may have noticed it long before he attempted this little stunt.]

ii. (attempted) escape

[ That rapid ticking sound that follows Calla like a curse? It quickly becomes a problem during the group’s escape attempt.

In the mad dash from the guards, Calla, just as inexperienced in escaping such a place as being inside one, will follow the first person he sees who looks like they have any firm idea of where they’re going. And, of course, that metronome tick will follow fast on his heels.

Good luck to anyone attempting to hide from the guards with such a traveling companion. Calla’s only response to any glances thrown his way is a deeply apologetic look and a hand clamped over his own mouth—demonstrating quite clearly that this does absolutely nothing to stifle the sound.]

escaaaaaaape

[downswing]

[ In halls, the sound might be a betrayal of subterfuge, an inconvenience.

In the aqueduct corridor, where waters roil keen and the dragon's assault tremble the room, and the slosh of ice grounds their legs and coagulates steps — it is vibration, a danger of urgency.

Twice, Lan Wangji has crossed the rusting, rustlign intestines of the failing pipelines, each way to different purpose: a stick, a lost endeavour. The third time is to his own pleasure, to recapture the bodies strewn each way of the cage he'd seen savaged like the ripped ribs of a gutted bird. For burial, later. No matter their provenance, all men deserve better than stale waters rising, bloodied and thick with tar, above their heads.

If there is a charm, the third attempt neglects to activate it. Jinxes him instead with a raspily-gasped encounter of a shade that turns boy turns hindrance turns sound, in the midst of the tubes. Tick. Tock. Tick —

And the dragon, outside, howling.

Forgive, young man, the silvered length of cold, sharpened sword that teases the line of your neck in sweet greeting: ]

Still yourself. [ No. The boy barely breathes, hands bound to his mouth. ] Your sound.

zuko (atla, old news)

[elfuego]

BREATH OF FIRE (locked to Eleven)

[ The chunks of ice in the moat made him scowl, but he had swum enough frozen waters to know he would survive it. Bracing himself he took a few breaths and pulled his hood up, turning abruptly to Eleven. ]

Remember how I told you controlling fire is all in the breath? Now’s the time when that lesson counts.

[ Zuko hunched his shoulders and brought his hands up to his mouth, puffing hot air on them as he rubbed them together, warming himself for a moment before he looked back to El. The guy had some gift with fire, but he wasn’t a bender like Zuko was, and he wasn’t sure if talking El through this would even more - but he was willing to give it a try if it helped him get through the moat. ]

Focus only on your breathing, and the way it moves the energy through your body, keep breathing, it’ll warm you up.

[ Well, theoretically. ]

FIREFIGHT! (ota)

[ It wasn’t that he had been waiting to find out how the fire magic of the Bessis stacked up against his bending - but there was an undeniable sense of gratification that swelled in Zuko’s chest as he worked his way through the chaos of the soiree gone to pieces, redirecting or otherwise squashing the fire that came his way.

He was careful, especially here surrounded by a chaotic blend of gentry, undead, and witches, not to be overt in the way he used his abilities. To someone from his world, the way he appeared to catch fire between his swords, rolling it along the edge of the blades as it appeared to shrink down to nothing would have made him obvious - here, he just looked like someone with a pair of magic swords.

And that little cover story would have held well enough until he was forced to ruin it.

Diving between a flock of partygoers in various states of distress and a skirmish that had erupted between a few of the witches and some of their undead counterparts, he deflected what he could, but as the fight heated up the witches seemed to grow too focused on what they were fighting to be mindful of their surroundings.

With too much to try and redirect at once, Zuko realized he was out of discrete options and did what he had to do. Bringing his arms up as he kept his feet planted firmly on the ground beneath him the wall of fire he brought forth from the floor wasn’t subtle to any extent but it did work.

Jarred by the spectacle the people he’d been protected made noises of objection, a few of them beginning to scatter to try and fend their way towards the door on their own. Zuko looked after a few of them, about to shout his objections when the tower itself took a hit the structure groaning from the weight of the dragon hitting the side of it.

He lost his footing, staggering a few paces until he was stopped by someone else’s back. Under normal circumstances, he would have offered an apology, instead of whirling around to face the stranger who had inadvertently stopped him from landing on his backside in the middle of a fight, swords drawn.

His weapons were lowered a moment later, just in time for the dragon to bring it’s weight down on the tower again, making him look to the person he bumped into urgently. ]

That thing is going to bring this whole place down!

[ Someone needed to get that dragon under control, or they all needed to work a lot harder on finding a way out. ]

WILDCARD

[ something else? hit me up via pm to plot or just hit me with whatever! ]

breath of fire

[bearshermark]

[The moat would be incredibly unpleasant. He needed to make it through before the cold stiffened his limbs and even then, if he did make it, he'd be freezing and wet and still at risk for serious illness. His fire magic would help, but..

Eleven turned to Zuko, not quite expecting the sudden lesson. He slowly moved to follow his example. Of course there was heat in his breath now, but that was from.. well, just being warm. But the idea wasn't terribly far off from meditation- only he didn't have the sun or anything growing to focus on. Still, he spent a few minutes attempting to follow the advice]

I can feel it in my chest..

lily evans (hp, current resident)

[lancifolium]

DOWN BELOW (old-timers)

[ The tar was something she remembered hearing about during the group’s journey through the Stairs of Sighs, but no recollection did the stuff any justice.

It was, perhaps, the creepiest substance she had ever encountered, and once it revealed itself to be hostile Lily couldn’t blast it away fast enough.

After using her wand to send goopy tendrils of tar flying back to splatter against the corridor she turned towards the person nearest to her, leveling her wand at the chillingly amorphous tar thing behind them. ]

These things are vile! Jump back and I’ll blast it away.

IN HER LADYSHIP'S SERVICE PT 2 (ota)

[ After offering to become her patron’s decoy - having spotted the woman shrieking and deflecting errand fireballs towards the rear of the banquet hall - Lily regretted her choice almost immediately. Not because she was concerned she would fail, but because changing her slacks and top into a bulky fine ball gown made it difficult to move. This wasn’t exactly the best time to have to get used to a new hindrance.

Gown or no she was still fast to defend the lady, keeping Vannozza at her back she moved her wand quickly, sending the shambling undead flying back when they grew too close, or too fixated on the pair of women making their way along the edge of the room.

Lily searched the room as she moved, looking for someone who wasn’t undead or throwing fire around with reckless abandon.

After another bolt of flame needed to be batted away - it connecting with a window that may or may not have shattered from the heat of the impact - Lily took her chance and led Vannozza quickly towards someone she hoped knew more than she did. ]

Has anyone figured out how to get out of here? The lady needs to get to safety.

WILDCARD

[ hit me up via PM if neither of these grab you and you want to do something else, i'm forever up to plot - or just bring your own if you're feeling spicy ]

In her ladyship's service

[beitangmoran]

I'm afraid not. The exits are blocked.

[Moran is wielding a short sword - where did it come from? Let's not ask questions. He's actually wrapped his long, flowing sleeves around his arms and tied them with a bit of ribbon taken from someone's ruined gown, for more ease of movement. There's too much fire flying around for it to be safe having long bits of fabric whirling while fighting.

But quite clearly, he knows what to do with the blade, and his hand doesn't shake as he heaves and cleanly beheads an undead witch coming at him with clawed hands.]

Our only way out might be the tunnel, if they haven't been caved in by all the shaking.

sakai jin | ghost of tsushima | this vacation blows

[komoda]

welcome to the hotel cali-oh those are zombies | tourists

[So. Waking up in a cage stripped of his armor and other belongings is a bad experience for Jin. Waking up in said cage to find a group of...undead people below them is certainly surprising. And also quite bad. Maybe not as bad as fighting to take back his island home from a massive Mongol invasion, but it's pretty high up there. He's had enough of a bad time lately and this is absolutely not helping.

So he bides his time in that cage, generally staying quiet as he tries to ignore the cries of the undead or their horrible memories forced upon him. He catches on how their captors keep a schedule every day and considers fighting back when they're freed once a day, but thinks better of it. He doesn't know if the others with him can defend themselves and he's not willing to put them in danger if he can help it.

But when someone else sneaks in and gives them a few scant tools to aid in their escape, Jin feels more confident. He looks at the rope, the daggers, and the vials that promise to act similarly to his own smoke bombs, and speaks to the others in the cage.]

Here's my suggestion. As we make our escape, I'll take a dagger and a vial, maybe two. I'll deal with as many of the people below as I can to clear a path for the rest of us, though I won't turn down willing help.

[He looks at everyone to gauge their reactions.]


that's no moon lizard... | everyone

[After their probably most definitely heroic escape from the cage and room of undead, Jin is once more properly outfitted in his Ghost Armor and has loaded himself down with as many of his belongings as he could find collected outside of that room. It's not everything, but he has his sword, his tantou, a few kunai, one bow, and some arrows for sure. And his grappling hook and shakuhachi. Thank goodness. It's all kind of barebones compared to what he's used to these days, but he'll manage.

What he isn't used to is the fact that they've all stumbled across a...a dragon. In the scale flesh. Jin has been poisoned before, but never hallucinated like this, he's certain, but it's right there. Foxes, deer...these are animals that may be messengers of the gods, but they also physically exist in the real world. Dragons, though.

Dragons, though.

And it's angry. Of course. And they're all trapped inside this frozen tower. Of course.]

Why can't the creature just break itself free of this place? Something must be tethering it here.


wildcard!

[Hit me up baybee if you want something different/chaotic/etc. Also, Jin is taken from the beginning of Act III, but I can keep spoilers vague, so do not fear!]

... how come nobody has touched this good boy yet... everyone

[paperbutterflies]

Perhaps, there was powerful magic to keep her under control... or perhaps she just wants to level the tower that kept her prisoner before she leaves.

Or... perhaps she knows not exactly which way to go. She was captured at sea.

[ Sizhui doesn't know the answer, either. But his answer is respectful even as he keeps on the lookout for more immediate trouble. ]

wei wuxian | the untamed | oldbie

[weifinder]

what stalks in the shadows

Dirt streaked hands from the way into the aqueducts brushed against his layers of red, Wei Wuxian slogging through the tunnels, damp and wider, now closer together again. The moat lay ahead, another part of their goal. With slick sides and dark shadows stalking after him, he turned a grim eye back, bringing his long knife up to block the tar-hand that reached for him.

"Really," he said, moving into ready stance and kicking off the slick wall to gain distance from the tar-version of himself standing there. "I'm so much more polite in my attempted murderings, I find yours rather lacking!"

across the frigid waters

He swam the moat, as the rest did, while the dragon and the guards were distracted. Carried the weight of his garb with an idle thought to how it would weigh on the far side, as they wound their way into the tower from that level. Stripped down another layer at the far side, hauling himself out, shivering, but every inch alive.

The bathing pools lay ahead, and he paused, shuddering before even the first sounds could reach them.

"The dead walk here," he said with grimness, not addressing anyone in particular. "This should be getting even more exciting."

He paused to strip out of another layer of binding cloth, ignoring that he stood in damp white that still clung, like a waif's robes in the wind. The mask he extracted from within the now visible binding around his chest (how else, he decided, to hold things but to take inspiration from those corseted contraptions?) and pulled over his face was enough to change the lines of it, mislead the eye.

Chenqing in hand, he glances to a companion. "Shall we?" Take on some guards and face the dead once more. Who wouldn't want to do exactly that?

up, up, and away

More like them, freed, and the witches, loosed in their dead fury. He'd played hard, as they went upward, as chaos took hold and shook everyone in the tower like a dog with its prey. He played, coaxing and pulling and guiding, first one witch, then the slower inevitability of learning his limits. A second, a third.

A break, where he spoke with Macaluso, not as whatever his role was, but as a wraith in white, drier now, a ghost of himself. Defend, he said, and Attend. Words exchanged to reach the same conclusion he already worked on.

Four, five. Dancing those witches and all their deep seated desire for revenge on captors, on the ones who'd slain them the first time they walked with purpose, and aiming it outward, away from the people they tried to claw for, to heal and impossible hurt.

There was no healing their burns. There was only the promise, and he lost control of two as they dropped down into the moat, a desperate lunge toward another source of relief, only succeeding in agitating the dragon further.

He played to guide the three he still had control over, trying to fend the dragon off the gardens when it lashed out, to spare the shrieking, rich fools who understood nothing of war except in profits, and were set to learn the costs firsthand, sooner and not later.

The dragon slammed into the tower, and he leapt forth, holding that note on his flute as he bore down, hitting the neck of the dragon out of last second redirection and the realisation the clear ground he'd been aiming for was now under the terrific hold of the ice dragon's magic touch. Sharp spears of ice, and instead he was kneeling, clinging to cold scaled back with qi for the moment it took to jam his flute into his single layer and find a proper hold.

"So much for the better plan," he said, throwing himself flat on the dragon. Unlike his compatriots, he did not have the energy to spare to hold on more elegantly, and the dragon was already rearing back to prepare for another body-smashing attack on the tower.

wildcare:

Hit me up with an empty comment and "wildcard" in the top for me to write you our own starter; otherwise hit me up with a wildcard of your own!

dragon flight

[downswing]

That awkward moment when one's unknown and unacknowledged husband crashes down unannouned beside you, mounted by another (dead) woman.

The banquet halls, first. The witch, her wails harrowed, and the clasp of her hands, all claw, and Lan Wangji secure in his step first, devouring heartbeats and blinks of distance — in a fury of dappled light and bright white sound and obstacles to be jumped and overcome, he seized her in a plunge, Bichen at the ready. Nearly stabbed the witch, wet flinched red line of his mark splattering across the air. Only he too pursued it, deflected and overthrown by a last-minute spell of levitation, and it was accident, first, that Eleven's spare wire still lived bound to his hand, that it caught the witch's limbs in fast fettering, so she yet followed him down, in his fast fall past the balcony's ledge.

A long plunge, scratch of ice tarnishing his hands, his cheek. Lan Wangji caged her, brought the rattling bones of her in his hands like a lover, for all she screamed and bit down his shoulder with hound's fangs, ragged him. Better if she knows their fates bound, than that she should extricate herself and wish another wind's curse upon him, throw him once more at distance.

He expects hurt, dark waters, ice careening, like swords between his ribs. They break fall sooner: the dragon, coiling, crushing the tower, repelled by the aches of returned momentum, and the witch startles then, feels the slick wet of its scales beneath and eases, its mimicry of breath turned staccato, wretched and demure — water yet soothes her damnation. Wangji's back absorbing the brunt of the fall, pain reverberates from spine to limb to the tips of them, his curling fingers, and he stirs to topple the dead woman, only to find her stronger for her yearning for relief — her claws catching both his wrists over his head. Afar, Bichen sleeps too distantly discarded between the dragon's scales to answer her master's summon, and the witch's breath is chilling miasma, dark as the flapping folds of her scorched skin, when she hisses at him with an empty show of teeth.

Salvation wears many shapes. Today, barely glimpsed from the corner of Lan Wangji's manic gaze, too few layers. Beauty and death become the Patriarch, always in strange conspiracy.

And Wangji offers, by way of reedy greeting, between the gravely grit of his teeth, "Wei Ying."

Perhaps... a... hand with this... fair maiden that straddles second master Lan with every intention to bear down the bite of her needle-prickling teeth? A foot? A seductively splayed ankle?

xiao xingchen | veteran

[binghua]

down below

[How much use down in the aqueducts is a blind man? Perhaps not much. And as one of Macaluso's supporters, he should be at the masquerade, but after being poisoned at the last banquet and then endearing himself to neither of the cousins, Xingchen really has no appetite for being there. Not that being down here is much better, but at least he doesn't have to pretend to enjoy himself.

No, now he just has to pretend he knows where he's going or what he's doing. And as some of the others in their group try to enter the aqueducts proper, he hears steps coming toward them. Guards, he assumes, for who else would be down here?

Maybe he's not as useless as he once thought.

Heading toward the sound of the footsteps, he reaches to brace himself against the walls, relying on them more than he actually needs. The guard makes their presence known and Xingchen reaches out aimlessly toward them.]

Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness! I've made a horrible misstep. Silly, blind me. I just needed to, ah, find a convenience. I've drank so much water. Might you help this pathetic one?

[At least his situation is believable but is his acting? Only time shall tell.]


this party sucks

[And then the dragon happened. And now they're all stuck inside this tower. Surrounded by ice. And more undead. Needless to say, it's not the best situation for anyone.

Shuanghua, strapped to Xingchen's back, practically vibrates non-stop, growing in intensity every time some of the witches get closer to his location. Fighting the undead, at least, is something he's marginally confident in carrying out. He can be found doing just that from time to time, though he needs time to recover his energy, too.

During these moments of downtime, as the dragon throws itself against the tower but before any structural instability really threatens them, Xingchen will wander from person to person, asking after their health.]

How are you holding up? Are you warm enough? I can offer some of my energy if you need it.


wildcard!

[Want a hapless blind boy somewhere else? Drag his ass over there and I'll happily go along with it.]

party time

[consignation]

[ Jiang Cheng practically jumps out of his skin at Xiao Xingchen's approach and subsequent offer. He scrambles to his feet, holding out his arms to try to, like, herd Xiao Xingchen into them, visibly worried at the man wandering around blind offering strangers his aid. Completely on brand, of course, and he knows Xiao Xingchen is a force to be reckoned with, a hero among men. He also knows the man didn't lose his sight out of an abundance of caution for his own well-being.

It's probably for the best Xiao Xingchen can't see the face journey Jiang Cheng is making right now. ]

Xiao-Daozhang, I— I'm fine. Are you— Are you warm enough? How much energy have you spared? Have you eaten yet? When did you last rest?

number five | TUA | old timer

[somebadnews]

i. upstairs

There had been some debate if it was worth it to come here.

After the poisoning at the masquerade, Five might not have expected them to pull out another public demonstration, but that seems to be what Taravast is best known for. He already assumes some of those who were involved with in the plot at the masquerade are attending, and that's reason enough to investigate while his siblings spread out in other areas of the tower. He's unnaturally tense as he studies them with a sharp gaze while he fights the anguish that seems to surface whenever he's in a crowd. So far his ideas for dealing with the curse haven't panned out, and there's no time to pay attention to it now.

The fact that Vanya came with him mostly has to do with the convenience of knowing where all of his siblings are. And maybe in small part because leaving her alone in the palace while the rest of them go on a 'mission' is too reminiscent of their childhood. Besides, he trusts her to have a handle on her powers by now if anything happens. That doesn't stop him from warning her about eating or drinking anything offered, and telling her if she gets in trouble to signal him with a well-timed fainting spell. Enough people are aware of her backstory at this point that they never seem to question it. She's been getting enough practice that they might even start to look believable.

He notes the entry points, the number of guards, and any large movements in the crowd. And despite his increasingly distracting handicap that makes him suspicious of anyone who looks at him twice, they manage to gather some useful information. He's already located Don Urbano, and he watches him from a distance when he announces his engagement with someone he recognizes from their group. It's an interesting development.

After an hour of making notes and staring everyone down he's already at his limit for socializing. He's about to suggest they contact the others when the name Caterina Zalle comes up in an overheard conversation involving undead forces. He immediately turns his attention to finding her, and eventually he spots the woman getting tipsy at the gambling table. If it were a game of skill he might have asked to join her, but instead he hovers nearby, looking for someone he can recognize behind their masks who might do his work for him.

ii. chaos in the tower

Five seems to remember having a conversation about a dragon and the morality of subduing it by force. He thinks of it it now, when he teleports to back down to try and find his other two siblings, only to nearly fall as the building trembles at the massive force being flung against it. He shakes his head at how predictably everything descends into chaos. Did someone set it off, or is that just a dragon being a dragon?

That question seems to be answered when he spots the witches sending everyone nearby into a panic with fire magic. It's ironically freezing inside thanks to the dragon, and it's not long before they're locked inside. He expected this to go to shit from the start, but even he's impressed with the magnitude they're faced with. This time it barely seems orchestrated, and clearly out of anyone's hands.

There's too much going on around him to keep track of, and all he can think is how they should have made an agreed upon meeting spot.

He can feel an undead nearby and his insides twist. He teleports again, then all but drops against a wall when the curse he's successfully ignored all this time pulls his attention away from the fight. All that agony he absorbed shifts inside him, and he loses his grip over it for just a minute. Fortunately he ends up somewhere with a better vantage point, and he's motivated to move again when a fireball comes flying his way.

Another teleport and he unintentionally appears next to someone he recognizes. He narrows his eyes and decides to humor them.

"Got any bright ideas?"

iii. wildcard

[ Anything else! ]


ooc: action or prose/will match

ii.

[faeng]

The person in question he's appeared next to looks as though she has a dirty little secret. Although, maybe not so secret.

Her hands are on a guard, who's head lolls back. Blood drips from his neck. Similar blood spots her lower lip. With the appearance of what appears to be a child, Kaye immediately drops her prey. Or shoves him away. More or less. The guard lands with a dull thud and cacophony of armor scraping against the floor. The sound is deafening in her silence.

She stares at Five for a long second, swallows her mouthful, and reaches up to wipe her lips. She stands a little straighter and well... moving on.

"Not my circus, not my monkeys," she shrugs. "Best idea I've got so far is get out."

marcos diaz (eclipse) | the gifted | tourist

[soloritur]

i. down below ( post escape )

[ Marcos spent days trying to feel for his powers. Days spent desperate for answers and numb to the horrific visions that slammed into them no matter how he tried to fight against them. Of course it's not until they escaped their cage and improvised to get past the guards in the tunnels that he can sense them flowing back. It happens long after they've been following their rescue party, none he recognizes but all of whom he's overwhelmingly grateful for. Who knows how lost they would have been if they'd tried to navigate this place on their own? Or if they'd ever have gotten this far if a stranger hadn't tossed them the keys?

He doesn't know everything that took to orchestrate, but it quickly becomes apparent as they make their way back. They'd chosen what seemed to be the way they came in. It's disorienting, and he's fairly sure that the sedation he was on hasn't totally left him when they passed what looks like a sleeping dragon.

Even dripping wet from the moat, he's feeling stronger the further away they get. He holds his hand up to illuminate the dark confined space in front of them with a faint glow, and the warmth that spreads from his palm is comforting in the chill air. ]

What is that?

[ The sides of the pipes shine with black tar. One he recognizes it, he lets his light dim in case he accidentally sets it on fire. Did they make it all this way in the dark? He's made some dicey recuses before, but he can't believe what they went through to get to them. ]

You guys really came all this way for us?

ii. everyone together now ( outside )

[ Stumbling on a dragon, now awake and rampaging, is not how he expected this to end. Their escape through the aqueducts was long and tiring, but Marcos doesn't hesitate to assist the people who freed them. Even if he still has so many questions that will seem more important once they survive this. -- Of course he thought of Evangeline when he first saw the dragon, but she'd probably be insulted now that it's attacking... if she's still alive somewhere. He wishes briefly that she were here, then immediately feels guilty for wishing this on anyone.

When he sees someone fighting off another living corpse, he takes a deep breath and shoots a precise beam of light from his hand over their shoulder until it starts to smolder and burn. ]

You okay? [ God that's an awful smell. Marcos catches himself as the ground shakes and he looks back to the dragon trying to topple the tower. He grimaces and tries to think. He could... possibly burn a hole but the ice is going up a lot quicker than he could melt it. ] How many people are in there?


iii wildcard

[ Any and all things welcome. Here's your sunshine on a cloudy day. ]


ooc: will match whatever format you like!

everyone together now (outside.)

[archivation]

[ Noe is grateful for the assistance in fighting off the undead, as his own powers are not quite yet returned (and even if they were, he has no abilities to speak of that can particularly harm the undead beyond having to make physical contact with them... which, honestly, he would rather not) and the only way to accelerate them would be... unsettling for everyone here, he imagines.

Although many have been helpful, it is still taking a bit of understanding to recognize who to side with and who is more than likely not one to be around. Bright violet eyes look to the individual asking if he is alright, and he nods, considering this immediately to be one of the ones to side with since he was assisted. Even better, Noe believes he recognizes this individual as a fellow cage hostage. Any familiarity is better than none, of course.

With the conversation shifting to the dragon and its attack on the tower, Noe squints up at it as he considers the situation rapidly unfolding. ] Far too many... what were they thinking holding such an easily agitated beast in this place? I believe calming the dragon would be the best way to resolve this. [ much easier said than done, however. ]

kaye ( original character ) tourist

[faeng]

（ｉ）－ 𝕮 𝖆 𝖌 𝖊 𝖘

( Kaye isn't unaccustomed to unusual sleeping arrangements. admittedly, she's been in better. the undead circling beneath the cage certainly don't settle her mind. but all things considered, she can handle the entrapment. temporarily, of course. no one ever intends to stay trapped forever.

however, Kaye really struggles to think of a way out of the situation.

the biggest problem stems from her diet. or lack thereof. the necromancers take an odd interest in Kaye, and refuse to feed her blood without being allowed a chance to study her even a little bit. it's a trade-off, really. she assumes studies would involve their weird brand of magic. and the magic wouldn't exactly be pleasant for a vampire like Kaye. meaning the blood would only really help her heal from the studying and not sufficiently satiate her. so she has yet to give in to the trade... which also leaves her weaker than she'd prefer to be.

the paradox of it all is really enjoyable for her.

the longer they're kept in the cages, the more Kaye withdraws from her companions. her fangs are out near constantly, though she tries to keep her head down and her mouth closed. when someone moves a little too close to her, she speaks up- ) If you wouldn't mind just scooting a little more that way... I'd appreciate it.

（ｉｉ）－𝕿 𝖔 𝖌 𝖊 𝖙 𝖍 𝖊 𝖗

( once out, fed, and free from the aqueducts... Kaye really does have to take a pause to stare at the dragon. she's uncertain if dragons are common in this world or to other folk, but for her the sight really is something else.

but her focus is quickly brought back to the present as she realizes that one - she's not alone. and two - a number of undead are about to set upon her and her companion. )

You take left, I'll take right? ( she raises an eyebrow at the companion. she really hopes they can handle left, because she's already rushing forward. she reaches the first of the undead, shoving her hand through the throat of the creature, wrapping her fingers around the spine, and ripping it straight out of him. the creature crumples and the vampire looks back to check that the other person is able to handle themselves. )

i - cages

[soloritur]

[ It took Marcos longer than it should have to speak the others in the cages. But he notices her as she withdraws from the rest of them. － Not that he blames her. At all. He just feels an obligation to at least reach out.

When she catches him before he can introduce himself, he falls back. ]

Sorry. I just... [ He tilts his head, noting the fangs, and holds up a hand. ] I just wanted to see how you were doing with the whole... horrifying situation we're in.

eleven | dragon quest xis- current cast

[bearshermark]

A. Tunnels- On the move

New people. People like them held captive by witches and guarded by undead.

"I'm sorry," and "We'll get you out of here," were all he managed to say for the new faces they found themselves rescuing- a drugged and warded lot. Eleven grit his teeth. Though a number of them seemed to be starting to shake the drug, Bessis would still have a great deal to answer for when they got out of here- but that would come later.

For now, he held to the back, twin swords in hand and aglow with burning fire as they moved. His attention swung between the small company and the terrible wails of the witches they were trying to put some distance between.


B. Tunnels- Catching a break

[They can't get out.

It's a problem that necessitates some discussion between trying their luck with the dragon or veering further upstairs. Naturally, the lull results in an impromptu break. There's room to spread out at least, with fighters naturally choosing to linger around corridors to listen for threat.

The freezing waters of the moat give off a chill effect to the already damp air. Eleven shudders a short distance from an aged pipeline, swords set beside him while his hands cup a small flame. Breathing in, out, then shivering in the wake of them.

He looks up with a quick flash of a smile the moment anyone approaches]

How are you?


C. Upstairs- Healing hands

As promised, Eleven had fallen back once the injured had piled up. He patched up what he could in a hurry, then led them back to the banquet hall where there was more sufficient protection and light under which to work. He settled into cataloguing injuries and treating wounds with more ease than he had before. For all the atmosphere was tense, they were well fortified, and the number of undead not quite so pressing.

After too long, he fell into a rhythm: clean and assess injury, treat with a touch of green-glowing energy, then bandage and let rest. Patients with more serious injuries were passed a wristorative to keep hold of for a time.

Caught up in his work, Eleven met the brush of another person with an automatic query and a quick, assessing look.

"Are you injured?"


D. Wildcard

[ooc: feel free to hit me up with anything in between or adjacent to these prompts if nothing suits- or pm me if you're not sure! also action or prose is fine for anything. no promises about tense consistency though ;o]

B

[binghua]

[Xingchen shouldn't be down in the tunnels, considering his "loyalty" is to Macaluso upstairs, but he's also long since given up on appearances. He doesn't particularly believe in either cousin's cause and figures he'd be more useful not pretending everything was fine up at the banquet. And he really didn't feel like putting himself in danger of getting poisoned again.

The tunnels, however, are hardly a pleasant place to be, though he feels more freedom down here. But they're colder, though he supposed with the dragon throwing its fit, that's the case throughout the whole tower, and wetter, and Xingchen's robes weigh him down, making every step more difficult than the last. When they get out of this, he hopes he can find a hot bath somewhere, just soak in it, spoil himself. Hasn't he deserved that much after all the turmoil he's gone through in this city?

As he rounds some corner, however, he feels just that much warmer. Which is odd. Surely his daydreaming hasn't actually affected the area around him. He must be tired. Maybe the cold is getting to him -

He freezes (ha) when someone calls out to him. It takes Xingchen a moment to recognize the voice, but he does, and then relaxes a little. Eleven. It's been a while since he spent some time with the younger man.]

Well, I've been better.

[For any number of reasons.

He approaches closer, but cautiously, not wanting to trip over Eleven or anything that might be in his way.]

But I've been worse, too. You sound well enough, considering.

Wrench | WATCH_DOGS | Tourist

[in_theworks]

I. HAUNTED BY A MILLION SCREAMS (TOURISTS)_

[let's be real, this probably isn't the first time Wrench has woken up somewhere he doesn't remember ever having been in the first place -- it's definitely not the first time he's been drugged. the latter, though, is usually his own choice, and the zombies? those are new. as is having their thoughts or memories or whatever the hell they are pushed into his head. that's enough to get him to stir from where he's been sitting against the far wall of the cage, and he groans, the sound modulated through the mask he's wearing. the LED faceplate flashes through a series of expressions (>_x) (>_<) (x_<) rapid fire, before defaulting back to (x_x) as he tilts it back, not enough to see his face underneath it, but enough to expose his mouth. he swipes the back of his hand over his lips, then lets the mask settle back into place]

Worst hangover ever. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

[a beat]

Anybody else feel like they just got hit by a truck? Or, like, a pig driving a truck? [there's another pause] An actual pig, not, like, 'fuck the po-lice' or whatever.

[to punctuate all of this, the mask flashes a bright (>_@)]

II. BURNING INTO THE NIGHT (ESCAPE I; TOURISTS)_

[where most people might go for one of the daggers, when they're thrown into the cage with them, knives aren't really Wrench's weapon of choice -- he'd rather something heavy, like a sledgehammer. a close runner up would be something explosive, though, and so immediately, he lunges for one of the vials]

Ooh! Dibs on the Molotov!

[except, on closer inspection, it doesn't actually appear to be a Molotov cocktail, and believe him, he knows what one looks like. he's made plenty, over the course of the last few years. come to think of it, he's not sure what it is, period, and he's got a pretty good head for what various chemicals, explosive or otherwise, look like and what they do, and the mask displays his confusion with a (?_?)]

Or, uh, healing potion, maybe?

[this all seems high fantasy enough for that, what with the zombies and all]

III. THESE ARE THE HANDS THAT WE'RE GIVEN (ESCAPE II; TOURISTS)_

[later, circumstances find Wrench pinned up against a wall in the tunnels. the good news is that he seems to have left the zombies far behind him. the bad news is that ahead, around the corner, there's a pair of guards loitering in the hallway, and he hasn't managed to find anything worth counting as a weapon, while on the run. the other good news is that, rather than let anyone else barrel into the guards accidentally, Wrench grabs anyone who starts towards the bend in the hallway and pulls them back against the wall with him]

[the mask flashes (!_!) as he presses a finger to where his lips might be under the spikes of the mask. he holds up two fingers, as he starts to lower his hand, but for all that he seemed content to run his mouth off if and when you ran into him before, says nothing now]

IV. IN THE WAKE OF THIS MADNESS (ALL)_

[finally, finally, Wrench has managed to get free of his captivity, found something heavy enough to be used as a blunt weapon, and -- ]

Okay, this is officially both the best and worst dream ever, because that is a fucking dragon.

[ -- and all he has is what probably amounts to a toothpick, to a dragon]

This is the part where I find a convenient cave, with an old man inside, who tells me it's dangerous to go alone and gives me a magic sword or, like, super powers, or something, right?

[please let that be this part, because he has no idea what to do, otherwise, than stand here and stare at it, the faceplate of his mask stuck pretty firmly on (o_O) someone might want to grab him and pull him out of the way]

V. WILDCARD_

[something else in mind? feel free to hit me up]

iv.

[rumorate]

Sorry, the only powers you get are the ones you came with.

[Allison is a little ... anxious about the dragon to be honest, because it's having a bad night, just like the rest of them. Klaus has been returned to the care of her siblings and she's trying to keep anyone from getting too close to the giant lizard, just in case things go wrong.]

Magic sword might not be out of the question, though.

Noé Archiviste | Case Study of Vanitas | tourist

[archivation]

Down Below => UP UP??

location • tower corridors rather than aqueducts escape path

It's very surprising to him that after their days spent here that one of the necromancers is the one to break the eerie schedule and clockwork of this place. Noe has kept mostly to himself, and the the biggest reason is for the one he offers to no one. Blood. The only saving grace is any blood stench is overpowered by the smells considering of searing of flesh and the boiling of body fluids from a flame that he can only imagine must be hot as hell.

The keys and tools are a strange sight to behold, but having no interest in remaining in this place, he's takes his share to keep ready for the proper timing as instructed. Vanitas would be furious for him accepting such things without questions (or would he?), but it seems like this is a circumstance where there is literally no other option. He has listened carefully to the other tourists and their discussions, perhaps even agreed to work with some or all of them in their collective escape efforts, but currently he is either alone (or with another tourist, perhaps, should they have decided to work together,) and he's wearing the uniform of the guards employed by the Witches of Bessis.

He walks with purpose that's strange for a guard, however, perhaps because he is no longer attempting to be casual about his flight since he's being chased by something a lot more dire than what he considers a leisurely stroll to "blend in" would incorporate— not that there was much originally stroll to begin with from the geo. "Run! Run—" he yells to anyone he sees. If he runs by someone in the process because they don't heed his warning, he'll be grabbing their wrist to yank them along. Should they question why, they only need glance behind to see they are being chased by undead (and of course, there are other guards, confused by the mayhem and not taking the warning to heart, but those undead don't seem to discriminate, do they?)

Wild Cards

location • wherever

( WHATEVER YOU LIKE. Comment with your own starter, or just let me know here and I'll write something for you.

Also, maybe can help with dragon things because of his strength and speed, but someone would have to give him a heads up. )