sa-hareth | the imperious

[groundrules]

Way hay’n’up she rises, early in the morning —

But you’re short on time for belly shaving. In a brief window of weather opportunity, the long-stalled, majestic vessel Imperious has approached the port citadel of Sa-Hareth for discharge, bringing along the dregs of her reputation in slave trafficking. She docks at 00:49 of the morning, with the captain, a two-man delegation, the chief of vessel trade and several guards heading to customs to declare her merchandise, then liaise with high merchant Torsten.

Onboard the Imperius, they leave behind an ancient treasure Torsten’s eastern partners have commissioned for delivery to reinforce local undead warlord Unhalad — along with several captives, fit for sustenance.

And in the roiling sea, circling the vessel, restless ripples as ice storms stoke.


NEW CHARACTERS | HERE COMES THE FRESH (FISH) MEAT

• New characters find themselves aboard the vessel Imperious, in the last five to seven-day stretch of its voyage at sea. They come awake before a mirror in an otherwise wastefully deserted hall in the ship’s hull, to the sound of dying whispers. • Captives are temporarily drained and missing abilities or memories. Players can use this to cap powers as much as needed so they don’t sink the ship! They will recover their bearings in two and four days, but may be brought back to feed the mirror periodically. • Characters targeted to fuel the mirror again will spend a restless night of nightmares and hellish whispers prior. Memories of interacting with the mirror are nebulous. Those who recently faced it are given white masks during their recovery, which put them at ease. Those due to visit the mirror are offered red masks. • At sea, characters are kept unarmed and captive. They reside communally and must wash the decks, sew sails, or cleanse and gut the fish catch. • Sorcery aboard the Imperious allows characters to understand each other freely.

• While on deck, characters will notice a swarm of fishy pursuers — mermaids or their creature companions, who will attempt to hypnotically woo onlookers to bring them the mirror. Careful: they all have sharp fangs and appetites. • Two days before scheduled docking, vicious snow storms engulf Sa-Hareth and ice the seas, delaying the Imperious’ discharge. The mermaids fall increasingly sick as they circle the vessel in the cold. • After a time, the sea creatures return undead, feral and exclusively focused on the mirror, with some bodily throwing themselves against the ship in an attempt to submerge it to reach their target. • Finally, the Imperious docks, with some crew and sentinels exiting for formalities. Within the hour, explosions can be heard outside, and parts of the Imperious catch fire, sending most guards to investigate and leaving captives less closely monitored. • Run, fight your way out, find your dashing saviours, beware the fire and a sudden raid of (yes) humanoid undead aboard the vessel, jump into Sa-Hareths’ freezing embrace — just don’t fall overboard. • Characters will need to steal or receive thralled translation quartz pieces to understand each other once they’re off the Imperious. Guards have some; rescuers will bring more. • Inventory items can be recovered from the captain’s cabin. • Head here with all your mod questions!

EXISTING PARTY | YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF... FIRE

• Word of the Imperious’ voyage spreads, but the vessel is delayed from docking by worsening weather conditions. • Ahead of the vessel’s discharge, characters may observe strange rippling in the water: mermaids and other sea creatures, circling the Imperious. They are alert, agitated, ready to hiss and claw if onlookers come near them. They speak incoherently of a coveted mirror. • Private guards are trotting around the port at Torsten’s behest, wary of a second robbery. Heist participants scouting the port should cloak and shield themselves as much as possible. • As the storms strike, the mermaids perish and return as undead. They grow exponentially violent as they hunt the mirror, actively trying to pull those who walk the piers into the water and shred them to pieces, to coat themselves in their living warmth. • The storms let off enough for the Imperious to dock. Seagulls alert Su Xunxian of its discharge past midnight, with Karsa also sending word. Her people use the party’s 13,000 coins to set off minor explosions and fireworks in front the Imperious, starting small fires aboard the vessel. • Characters can infiltrate the Imperious to rescue the captives in the cargo hull — an exhausted, confused and masked lot, who will need Karsa’s quartz pieces. Guards and slaves mention captives’ possessions are in the captain’s cabin. • It’s about to get crowded on the Imperious. Sighted, now and then: Unhalad’s undead, Karsa and her cloaked people, Haltham and even some of Anurr’s deathless factions — recognisable because of their red sleeve arm tattoos. In the water, mermaids start brutally attacking the Imperious. • Those who search the ship will find an eerie, raided hall, with a large shattered mirror. • Return the captives to the House of Dew. The final fate of the Imperious is in your hands. Consider damage to the port! • Go here with any mod questions!

OLD & NEW (AND MAYBE BLUE) CHARACTERS

Congratulations, you’re off the floating death trap. Characters can trot through the freezing Sa-Hareth, but beware the effects of long-term exposure to the magical cold: listlessness, fatigue, the urge to walk out into the mountains, and to burrow oneself in warmth. Head back to the luxurious, if declining House of Dew brothel that has been offering sanctuary to arrivals so far. For now, mistress Tamaiu also welcomes newcomers into the decrepit servants’ quarters. Old and arriving characters will have to share dinner, hot beverages and blankets for a few days, while further accommodations are arranged. The sorceress Karsa will rally newcomers to briefly explain the status quo: captives are in the frozen western citadel of Sa-Hareth. They have been rescued from the undead forces of reining warlord Unhalad, who faces new pressure to defend his territory from his deposed, but resurging rival, Anurr. Unhalad and his brethren use otherworld arrivals as an exotic resource, to absorb their skills or vital strength. The land’s only hope is to evacuate these strangers through long-lost eastern portals — a voyage in the works under the stewardship of her master, the Merchant. The long-unused portals might return everyone home, but the trip requires discretion and finance, and the weather’s an enemy now. Karsa will withdraw shortly, probably in a foul temper. She has not found her mirror. This isn’t a party, but celebrate staying alive.

OOC HOUSEKEEPING

• The event is optional, but counts as game canon if you participate.

• Applications opens at 00:01 GMT @ 3 May. If you think you’d like to throw one in, dropping a comment on the reserve / notice list helps give a heads up on how many apps to prepare for! Thank you in advance!

• Participating in the Test Drive Meme is not mandatory to apply, but all new characters accepted in this session will have been brought in as captives aboard the Imperious.

Comments

Xie Lian || Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official's Blessing

[scrapgege]

A. Mirror stuff

[Okay, so, this business with the mirror is... unpleasant, to say the least, but Xie Lian has always been the type to observe first and try to understand what's going on. It looks like a cursed item of some kind, maybe with a spirit attached, but he's a bit too woozy any time he is near he thing to properly investigate. And the first time a white mask is shoved into his hands...

Well, his companions might have grown used to him being congenial and just all around nice - some would probably say too nice and a but of a doormat - but the moment he touches the white mask, his grip goes white-knuckled on it and he visibly pales.

And in spite of it being, by all accounts, helpful, he absolutely refuses to wear it, deflecting any attempt to be persuaded with a smile.]

No, really, I'm fine. There's no need for this at all.

B. Toiling on the ship

[One good thing with Xie Lian is that he is really strong.

One not so good thing is that his luck is abysmal. Which means that every tasks he's been assigned to he has somehow managed to botch in some way, but you can't say he doesn't try, but there he is again apologizing because he broke something.]

I'm sorry! I won't touch it again...

Ah, but there's not much I'll be able to help with if everything is so fragile.

C. Escape

[If you're the lucky soul who somehow freed Xie Lian and is escorting him off the ship somehow, you'll be happy that he isn't completely dead weight, at least, and more or less keeping up... and then you turn a corner, and here is an undead tumbling towards you and before you have time to do anything, Xie Lian, apparently unarmed, has stepped in front of you and put himself right there in the middle.

He extends an am and gives what appears to be a light flick on the zombie's forehead... and the thing is catapulted back several meters and crashes into the ship's hull apparently hard enough to be dazed, even though it's technically not even alive.

Xie Lian checks behind him that you're alright - shouldn't you be doing that? - and smiles.]

Let's go before more of them arrive. I'm not sure how long I can keep doing this.

b

[feralinnatomb]

[ In all honesty, gutting and cleaning fish was not the worse thing they could be doing. sure it stunk and there were annoying things like bugs and birds and the mermaids swimming just off the side, but they weren't that big of a problem, especially for him. Not that he could remember much of anything important, only that the tools he was given to deal with the fish felt wrong somehow and that the bugs buzzing around felt wrong.

The other guy seemed to be having far too much trouble though, especially with the gutting knife. He paused in slicing open the next fish, raising his head to look at the man's grip, eyebrows scrunching before looking up at his face. There was almost visible disappointment in his dark eyes before he duck his head and finished his own fish before pushing it down the line and reaching out for Xie Lian's fish, the elongated fingers of his right hand easily piercing the animals head. ]

Watch.

[ Why yes, he was going to show the god how to handle the fishing knife and how to cut open the fish without turning it into jelly. ]

A

[noticemegege]

[ While Xie Lian is refusing the offer of the white mask, a young man clad entirely in red, face obscured by a matching red mask, is being marched into the mirror room. Is the reason he's been so frequently forced in front of the thing because of his prodigious power? Or is it because of his difficult attitude on the ship? ]

No! I don't —

[ want to forget anymore is what he doesn't manage to say, before catching sight of Xie Lian. The young man freezes. He seems to forget to struggle against his captors, who take advantage of this and shove him down before the mirror. Its awful power takes effect, and the young man now can only sit blankly before the cursed thing. His captors leave, snickering to themselves. If he loses his mind as a result of all this, won't that just serve him right? ]

BOARDING PARTY - threadjack at will

[darkeststars]

[ He's kept the helm hidden up to now, squirreled away in a corner of the House of Dew. No reason to frighten anyone necessarily, not here. No reason to stand out.

But tonight he goes to war, and it's time to look like death again.

They creep into the district under cover of darkness. Some of the refugees' number are left nearby to wait for the signal to move, while Archeval will join a few souls creeping further into the port to scout conditions on the ground. Arche Force-chokes a few guards into unconsciousness to keep them quiet as the group sneaks to and fro -- maybe that's just unconsciousness, anyway.

Reporting back to the rest of the group on how things are looking, trying to avoid the attention of whatever is splashing around in the nearby water right now, Darth Imperius will inform you all in no uncertain terms that the ship is going down. Make sure that you, the captives, and any loot you want to carry are all ashore by the time that happens.

With Xunxian and Karsa sending word that it's time to move in, a long night begins for the volunteer slave liberators. ]

[bearshermark]

[Eleven sticks to the plan- to Archeval- when it comes time.

The fires meant to distract provide them light to see by, at least. What few guards are left to inspect them he attempts to sleep with some success. It is quite late, though he can't promise how long those that fall beneath the spell will be out for. He exhales a silently relieved breath that none of them fall into said fires. Still, he knows their lives aren't promised.

They duck below deck and Eleven turns a quick eye over the dim interior. He isn't intimately familiar with ships in general, but he's spent a lot of time at sea to have a good guess at its structural makeup. In addition, they have some information to act on, least.

His voice comes quiet, hushed.]

Cargo- should be this way.

Emmet "Fox" Martin || OC: Impetus Universe

[foxable]

A. At the Mirror

When he wakes the first time, he lays there looking at a large, strange mirror, with sounds of whispers quieting around him. He stays there for a moment, his sluggish mind trying to quickly calculate exactly what he is looking at, where he is, and--

Oh. And who he is. That's a problem. That is definitely something he should be able to remember. Isn't it? He lays there for another long moment as he tries to remember. Well, he remembers language. So that's something. He remembers mirrors, and whispers, and -- decks? Yeah. He can hear the ship creak around him. So he's on a ship. He remembers what ships are, that's helpful. He remembers what the sea is--

But when he tries to remember how he got there, when he reaches back for any other pertinent information, nothing comes.

After another few silent seconds, he says to the room:

"Well. This is a fucking problem."

B. At Sea

The first couple of days, while he still couldn't remember anything, he just sort of wandered around, sticking his nose into whatever he could manage, and often getting doors closed on it as a result. He spent at least three hours on the first afternoon marveling at all of his tattoos - both arms fully sleeved, as well as a tattoo on his chest, and some beginning to creep up his legs, and he helpfully asks whoever comes near him: "What do you think this means??" While pointing and some indecipherable squiggle.

He's surprisingly helpful when asked - and seems to be especially adept at helping sew the sails, so he can be found there most of the time, needle in hand and humming to himself songs he doesn't quite remember.

He gets especially excited about the mermaids and the sea creatures, nearly leaning over the railing of the deck at one point and gesturing to them and happily calling: "I don't know much, but I know you shouldn't be here! Hello!"

For the first two days, he is amiable and chatty - not sure why he is here but apparently not overly worried about it. If asked, he says that "he'll figure it out soon", but as no one is being obviously abused or hurt, he doesn't seem to think they are much more than poor deckhands.

On the third day, he wakes and remembers his name.

His mood dips that entire day as he starts to regain his memories, his normally easy smile disappearing for a worried frown. He still does his duties, but he seems distracted, only half present, running on autopilot while his mind is off somewhere else.

He spends an hour that night trying to activate his tattoos, and trying to ignore the growing panic he feels when none of them answer to his touch.

On the fourth day, he wakes in tears, the blizzard rolling in. This is his fault, he realizes. This is his fault. He spends a lot of the day approaching different people and asking them a very odd set of questions - Where are they from? What year was it? What kind of magic do they know? Do they know anyone called Mingyu, Rushi or Jade?

He steals a piece of charcoal from one of the braziers that keep the half-frozen decks warm enough to live on, and he starts drawing in dark marks on the deck and muttering to himself as he tries to link it all together. If left undisturbed, much of that deck ends up covered in weird markings and unreadable runes before he is finally dragged away, protesting, to go back to the mirror.

He forgets his name again, after that.

C. The Escape

He's half out of it, again, when the explosions begin, groggy and confused when it wakes him from a restless slumber filled with nightmares. He shakes his head like a wet dog drying off and looks up at whoever is next to him. "What-- Was that an explosion? What's happening?"

D. The House of Dew

Do you know anyone named Mingyu, or Rushi, or Jade?

He'd asked that question of everyone he'd met - those on the ship as well as his rescuers - and the overwhelming relief he had when someone answered yes was quickly marred by confusion when they explained where to find him. He's a courtesan in the House of Dew. You'll find him there.

By the time he actually arrived at the house, he had already convinced himself that it was coincidence. Mingyu could not be the only one with his name - even Bai Mingyu couldn't be that rare - so the idea of it just happening to be the same man was near impossible. And a courtesan definitely didn't sound like him at all.

But then, Fox had somehow destroyed the timeline. So. Who was he to know what to expect in anything?

So he asked around quietly, trying to find him, giving the name "Ernest" if anyone asked for his, and immediately giving a cheerful, amiable mask to anyone who was willing to speak with him. The worry, the agony - he kept that tight to his chest. He was in a very foreign place, now, and though the cold at least was reminiscent of home, nothing else was the same. He'd broken the world, and no one could know.

C

[darkeststars]

[ Some time passes after those explosions go off and -- there's a lot going on here, Fox, as you come to. People next to you rubbing wrists and ankles where rope or chains have been severed, dazedly pulling masks off their faces. And there's someone with a very different sort of mask crouched next to you right now: probably a pretty un-reassuring one, metal and dark and vaguely like a skull.

Archeval knows that face. He's seen it in pictures. It'd be hard to forget the person who got Bai Mingyu to actually smile. ]

Hold still, will you? [ The voice that issues out of the skull-like helmet is filtered somehow, a little mechanical and unsettling. ] Let me cut you loose.

A/B

[scrapgege]

[In spite of his own fogginess, Xie Lian is, first and foremost, an empathetic person, so when he finds one of theirs having real trouble processing things, he makes sure that the young man eats and drinks, and chatters to him about random things to keep him a little awake. Xie Lian has also been hit less hard than some people, it seems, although he's not sure why. He remembers his name, at least.

And then the young man remembers his and tells Xie Lian excitedly, who tells him it's a cute name, Fox, like the animal! He likes foxes, too. But then Fox's mood seems to drop, and when Xie Lian asks him what's wrong, he just tells him not to call him that, and to sue another name, which is a bit surprising, but who is Xie Lian to judge? He's used aliases himself before. He'll certainly oblige.

But then, his new friend is dragged to the mirror again and comes back just as confused as the first time and being a bit panicked about it, so of course Xie Lian has to be reassuring.]

... Well, you told me your name was Fox, but also that you'd prefer people to call you Ernest, so... one of the two, I guess?

alina starkov ( grisha ) new

[sankta]

I >> ＷＡＫＩＮＧ

( Alina wished this wasn't the first time she'd stirred groggily awake at sea. her head pounds and her limbs feel heavy. she tries to lift herself up, but the boat lurches. she falls forward instead.

eventually, she gets up on her arms, looking about with heavy eyes. she squints at any light that peeks it's way into the cabin of the ship-

only for light to catch off the mirror.

Alina tilts her head at the mirror, scrunching up her nose in confusion. ) What in the saints' name... ( she mutters to herself. ) Is anyone there? ( she calls, looking wildly about.

what's happened now. )

II >> ＡＴ ＳＥＡ

( this is just embarrassing. not the work, though that may be embarrassing in another way. but she can stand the work ultimately.

what's really got her is this isn't the first time she's found herself spirited away aboard a random ship. even worse, her powers don't work right.

A. when she's not being watched by any of the crew, Alina stops her work on the sails. she lifts her hands, cupping them before her, only to get a flickering light of a sun to flash in her palms before it dies away. she silently curses the saints every time it disappears.

any chance she gets to practice, she takes it. she doesn't mind if others see her, only so long as the crew doesn't take notice. ) Are your abilities working? ( she mutters to the person set beside her. ) Mine aren't what they should be...

( B. it's always in rounds. one person after another, someone gets picked for a red mask. a red mask is shoved in Alina's hands, and she threatens to throw it overboard-

she's really a bad shot.

when she's brought back above deck, she's tired, barely able to stand. a white mask adorns her face and she pants heavily into it. ) Don't throw the red ones. They don't like that.

III >> ＥＳＣＡＰＩＮＧ

( by the time the ship docks, Alina can feel the sunlight seeping into her. it threatens to make her glow with how good it feels. how refreshing it is. it gives her strength. the kind of strength one needs to tear a ship to pieces.

at least, that's what she intended.

others have their own plans, and the explosions rock the ship before she can do anything. Alina finds herself thrown into the chaos of a battle she's not prepared for. undead pour around her and mermaids still through themselves at the wreckage of the ship. tired of their relentless beating, a bright light bursts in the middle of the chaos. a large orb of light surrounding a young woman. it drives the mermaids away long enough to give Alina a chance to breathe.

and once her breath is caught- she runs.

Alina makes her way for the safety of the shore, never once preferring the danger of the seas, but once her feet touch the deck another piece of the ship falls off and cuts across her path, taking her down with it. )

Help! ( Alina screams as she hits the waters, the young sun summoner's splash drawing the attention of vengeful undead mermaids who want that light gone. )

IV >> ＨＯＵＳＥ ＯＦ ＤＥＷ

( cold, shivering, and tired, Alina warms herself with a small sun in front of her while Karsa speaks. she takes it all in while she breathes deeply to try to catch her breath. her teeth chatter in every small silence that breaks conversation.

when Karsa finishes, Alina's lips curl. ) That's all? Welcome to your new life, just deal with it? ( Alina shakes her head. ) We almost died in that explosion.

Someone could have warned us. Helped us before we had to run. ( she curls her fingers and her light flickers. ) Even a half-hearted apology wouldn't hurt. ( someone is in a mood. )

V >> ＷＩＬＤＣＡＲＤ

( open to other prompts, just throw something at me! dm or pp verities for any questions. )

iii

[weifinder]

( He hears the cry, Chenqing in hand and at his lips in the moment he recognises what's happened. He understands the cry with his crystal on, and he understands even more the aim of the undead fish-women swimming for the one gone overboard.

Chenqing's music cuts through enough of the air to reach out and battle in the way he's not yet needed to test; on his world, there were not the bodied dead to control, just the energies and spirit left behind once the body had ceased to operate. Here, it's not the same, and the alien nature of what he's calling on, what he fights against in the process, almost makes him too slow.

The first mermaid to respond to his command, to defend the strange fallen not-fish, shrieks before turning, blocking the surging attack of another mermaid. He's eyeing the person in the water to see if they swim; he's going to have to change his command at that point, even as the defending mer's tail swooshes back, cutting toward Alina's legs and possibly right into them, not to injure on purpose, but capable of it at the undead mer's strength. )

iv.

[downswing]

[ After, deed done. Their poor weather friends, like straying cats, rallied, and their teeth and bones rattling, and the membrane of their exhaustion, sick and cloying. Creatures of dregs and cold. Pale stitch-work of them glistened under blinks of candle light.

The woman — travesty of manners — the sorceress speaks in fast, shrill scratches. Brittle, like the splinters of this... operation, sequence of miscalculations yielding to pleasant advantage. Forged by flame.

He had intended the night's sleep, hours past his due. In Cloud Recesses, so close to dawn, time bares itself, obscene. But they are locusts swarmed around one... business woman's hospitality, smell of cold, damp plaster and stabs of ill polished floor under their feet. A pleasure house, Wei Ying gave the name. In mistress Tamaiu's servant quarters, stifled and short like crammed beads on jade string.

And their friendly invaders, sharing the enclosures, a girl spread worn and thin like wool skein before Lan Wangji's own. He does not stir her — barely lingers, hovered and plain, to watch the gleaming, swirled swell of her magic light, playful against the relative, silent discipline of a fire talisman. He gentles down, billowed whites and half the ship's ash scattered like scrying filigree, scattered on their floors — turned away with one hand, at the last moment, when he takes both knees, to leash his silks away from imposing on the girl.

And she asks, of no one in particular —

...ah. ]

Apologies.

[ A simple gift, cleanly given. A diplomatic complication. The due of children. His mouth rounds the sound, hands chained in his lap, until he remembers himself — the tatters of care — and reaches into his resting place for the one priceless possession still afforded to him: wool spread, struggling feebly to keep the fealty of every frayed thread. Offered, before the girl. Hello. ]

ii a

[scrapgege]

Ah well...

[Xie Lian scratches his head.]

Mine don't work very well, but I don't know if it's because of them. They also weren't working the best before, so...

ii b

[fhawkeit]

[Funny she says that, the scrap of a girl, because Hawke's been given a red mask just this morning. It's not the first time - she's...sure? - and maybe it won't be the last, either.

Whatever they're doing to them on this ship, it feels wrong, it feels so very wrong. Maybe if she could get to her staff - assuming it's here, which she wants to assume, she really does - she could set fire to the boat and...

The plan's a work in progress.]

Thanks for the tip. Here, have a seat - let's get you some water, at least. [She goes for the pitcher to fill up a glass, and woe be to whichever guard tells her not to, because she's stretched thin. Look at the girl - young and worn out. What in the damnation is wrong with these people?]

Hendrik | Dragon Quest XI

[unswervingcompanion]

Awake: - A slight groan escaped the knight as his blue-green eyes opened. They then blinked a few times and a gloved hand immediately went to his head. The last thing Hendrik recalled was that something big hitting him after a long drawn out fight, one similar in nature to the dragon he'd faced with the party in Sniflheim before Serena had appeared with her harp. But the only thing he could hear was whispers as he blinked at the shiny object in front of him. He wanted to move backwards, but his stubborn pride refused him that, since he'd faced much worse than a mirror after all. So he spoke in a demanding tone.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Mermaids and foul weather: - While working on the ship, the knight had been forced to be on his knees and scrub the decks. But now and again he heard eerie singing and couldn't figure out the source. Finally he'd had enough of it and moved slightly to stand up for a moment and look to where the singing was coming from. Mermaids swam predatorily, and that made him move a step backwards as they spoke in a language he didn't understand. But it was their pattern of speech that bothered him the most since the ones he'd met back home rhymed. These just..had their own particular cadence which seemed discordant and harsh.

Soon enough the looming snowstorm hit the ship and visibility was absolute zero and it was cold enough to remind him of facing the Jormun in Sniflheim, so he had to abscond for cover along with the others that had been serving on the deck. Once safely inside, his gloved fists clenched as he stood to his full height, speaking indignantly.

"We must get to shore and find out what is going on." And he needed to know where they were headed. He didn't have time to be captured and serving as a slave on a ship. His world needed to be saved from the darkness and no time could be wasted.

A sigh came out and he shook his head. "We are all in this together it seems."

Escape: The escape was a lot tougher without his shield and axe. He'd had them before he left home, and a part of him really hoped they were still here somewhere being hoarded. No one else had appeared to have weapons either and his own defensive and healing abilities had been missing as well. Still, Hendrik was a knight and would fight with his hands if needs be. His tall height would come in handy as well and he could certainly use it to his advantage.

As he was about to exit, he noticed a fire out of the corner of his eye. And then there were undead aboard the vessel. Scowling, the purple haired head lowered and he growled. This would've been a lot easier with his weapons but with the first undead he grabbed it by it's throat and lifted it well off of its feet before tossing it overboard as if it were nothing more than a mere rag doll.

Looking around him, he nodded to the nearest person. "Are you in need of aid?"

Escape

[bearshermark]

After searching the ship once more for remaining captives, Eleven darted above deck, swords drawn as he scanned the deck. Chaos reigned. Explosions, fires, undead, and loose captives- a far from orderly escape, but such was the nature of things. He leapt forward to cut down one of the undead with a snarl, then swung indecisive eyes between the boarding plank and Captain's cabin.

Until a familiar voice on the wind seized all thoughts of infiltration and charge, instead honing in on the direction as his body turned. Surprise and relief swelled in his chest right alongside numb disbelief. He'd hardly dared to hope- but there he was, unarmed but towering and still fighting. Eleven grinned.

"Hendrik!"

An explosion rocked the ship and sent him to his knees before he quite made it to the knight. Clasping his falcon blades firm against salt-washed planks, Eleven's head snapped up and turned a frantic search until they found him again. He stood slowly, swaying with the lull of the ship as he closed the distance.

"Are you injured?"

escape

[pinkxeno]

Mina is doing her duty: saving people. She came on this mission exactly for that! And for that reason, she is also staying behind, reading to fight undead or any of Torsten's sailors. During the brawl, the dark paint that covered her skin eventually disappears, showing's Mina actual skin color - quite pink! - but she is far too busy throwing acid at the undead's heads to render them immobile.

She spots Hendrik, turning her head to him for a second - why... is he still here?, he should be heading out to the House. "I'm okay! You- you have to go!"

jiang cheng | the untamed

[consignation]

to dream

The others complain of nightmares in the wake of their mirror visits. Jiang Cheng hears the whispers, feels the edges of the haze in his mind, but he is well used to restless sleep. There was respite, briefly in the years directly after, where his nephew was so small, so needy, kept him so sleepless what sleep he did find was near to oblivion.

But Jin Ling is grown now.

Jiang Cheng has not slept well in recent memory.

He dreams of walking endless, empty halls. The distant whisper of people, never to be found. He's lost in a forest but no one comes. His parents stand on a boat, sailing away. They don't look back. No one ever looks back.

Jiang Cheng wakes to a thick, acrid copper filling his lungs, of Lotus Pier awash with blood, the cry of "Mom—" upon his lips.

to work

The lurch of the ship brings him back to the present and Jiang Cheng sits up in his cot, grimacing, mopping a hand over his tired face.

'Your tired face?' Wei Wuxian chirps in his mind, and he can almost feel where Wei Wuxian would shove a bony elbow into his ribs. 'That's just your face! Just say 'your face' and save time, we can all picture your sour expression fine.'

Jiang Cheng pushes the distant echo of a man long lost from his mind, though he knows it won't stay gone. He hunts rumors of Wei Wuxian's survival because he does not know how to hunt the ghosts in his mind, has not had a day pass where he hasn't felt the impulse to turn and see Wei Wuxian's reaction to something.

But no one is there.

No one will be again.

The work is, at least, familiar if not particularly pleasant. Growing up in the rivers of Yunmeng, Jiang Cheng is well practiced with the preparation of fish. He busies himself with it to have something to occupy his hands with, if not his mind, but even that comes with the unpleasant memories. Of his sister practicing different dishes with their catches. Of Wei Wuxian slipping bait into his clothes. Of bursting into tears from sheer disgust and having Wei Wuxian, now sheepish, promise him the biggest fish of the day if he would just stop crying.

Jiang Cheng stares so hard into that memory he doesn't notice himself slice into his own palm.

to fight

The chaos that descends upon the ship proves effective at bringing the sect leader out of Jiang Wanyin. His strength has recovered, even if he is unarmed, and he does not hesitate to put himself at the center of the action. He demands answers, learns that this is supposed to be a rescue. His very skin crawls without Zidian upon his hand, so that is his first order of business. Learning where their personal effects are being kept, that becomes his first priority.

"Make yourself useful," he tells the first person unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him. "Find something that will pass for a weapon if you don't have one and follow me."

to swim...?

[ Please wildcard me if you happen to be a castmate, cast adjacent, or aren't attracted to any of the existing prompts!! Jiang Cheng is going to get his shit back and then blush himself to death once inside the brothel, but I didn't want to put him in the House of Dew until I figured out if he's run into anybody he knows yet. And I know Wangji has a to-do list. Ahem. ]

to dream

[abaratian]

Perhaps Candy should count herself one of the luckier ones. She isn't taken to the mirror as often as the others. The young woman is put to work, hard work she doesn't necessarily know how to do, but she does it all the same.

Instead of being taken to the mirror, she tends to watch for those that have. She may help lighten their load or offer an ear or just lend an eye should they need help. She's no one special, not by any stretch of the imagination. So she uses that to her advantage to help others.

So when she wakes to the call of 'mom' Candy immediately looks for the one taken to the mirror most recently. A beautiful, elegant man made tired by travel and mirrors. She crawls across the floor to where he sleeps nearby and rests close on her knees near him. "Are you all right? You're awake now, I'm sorry."

work first, and then????

[scrapgege]

[Xie Lian isn't very good at gutting fish, but someone showed him how so he's doing better than he was before, at least. And well, he would definitely be the type to slice his own hand and barely notice it himself, but he is also a) a god, and b) so used to physical pain it just barely registers. This is not, he knows, normally the case for people.

Xie Lian's eyes widen a bit, and he puts down his knife to grab the man's wrist.]

Ah! Careful! You cut quite deep, you need to bandage this!

[There's not much clean on hand, unfortunately, and with a sigh, Xie Lian unties the white bandage around his neck, revealing a tattoo of thorny vines encircling his neck. A curse mark.]

wild... cardin' along...

[downswing]

[ The incorrigible error: the lakes men's gait. Easy, languid, long stride. Drawled, like the run of their mouths, soft and breezy. High contrast to the chirps and trills of Gusu Lan in their silent, secret dialect.

Fettered to Yunmeng, where men cosset the act of doing — not the results of Qinghe, the appearance of Lanling, the legacy of Cloud Recesses. Where they walk to caper, speak to yowl, breathe to live, with reckless, self-satisfied abandon. In the chaos of the Imperious, that manner is enough. Among wisps and smoke and shadow, twined, and the loud viscera of arson paints — the pain and panic and rustle, of wood, knelt down. 

Up, Hanguang-Jun, in the night, go up: to the captain's rooms, where personal effects went looted. Recover them, for the captives given their liberty. An easy enough task; he struggles. Wrist deep in blood-letting, the oils of tumbled braziers, the syrupy, ashen brew of salt water and fish drippings. Hand, easy and gliding on the rail — grip staggered, when he rises on deck, moon cataracted and shapes smeared in bated dark, but for the striking, gelid difference of silvered scales, glistened eyes. 

Sirens descend on the ship, as much as they swim. One crawls, over the deck.

What good are eyes, then? Burn them. He sees: a man of Wei Ying's posture, his pace, the breadth of his narrow back, open to the sudden swipe of siren claws. Instinct, then Bichen, then the swing. By the time Lan Wangji recovers balance, raises his sword from where she's struck, returns weight to his back leg, he knows the scent wrong. Canine — never speak the word — even in fire, in drench of salt. The siren falls fairly: bisected, diagonally, from the obscene mound of her bare breast down below where her pelvis should have ended. A clean strike. Were this the training grounds, Lan Wangji would watch the clear, mechanical tumble of her body, halved, rolled at his feet, and absorb the thrum of well-earned satisfaction that two parts so surgically divided could, with the proper stitch work, marry again in a post-mortem whole. 

Blessings unto Gusu Lan: Lan Wangji slaughters well.  

You wreck senseless carnage even better, don't you? He breathes, but the dead only speak the qin's clever tongue, and impatience courses him, river-wide, electric. Beady, the siren's stare comes empty from the floor. He takes the knee, eel-slick, and eases the iced translucence of her lids shut, tongue clicks of splashing water licking at the swaying vessel, while somewhere, around and below, and by the piers, each man is urged to faster movement. 

And he sees again: firm cut of the jaw, stab of the cheek. Gaze, owlish and long, like a benison sword. So many nuances of difference could never paint Wei Ying. Wangji need not look again to know him — draws up, whites beside him, Bichen pointed to the remains of the mermaid assailant. ]

A bride for Jiang Wanyin. [ And has Lan Wangji, chief cultivator, not done well? Found a woman, the one alone, who'll have this wretch of a man and splayed her at his feet? Dead, but they have this debt between them. Honoured, honoured well. ] May your union last a hundred years. 

[ He finds he is, unexpectedly, shivered. Ache of it all, of strain and poorly tamed frustration — to know decades come, and gone, and this confusion still lingers, this likeness between the man who deserved the world and the one who was gifted it, that Lan Wangji's intimate knowledge of both cannot erode. 

You move alike. One breath, and he curses both. Wei Ying will learn. Better to walk as a beggar than as his brother. Better he cripple himself. Better Jiang Wanyin lose the leg first. ]

We wildcard like Nies in here

[beitangmoran]

[Moran did not take part in the expedition, although he did give his blessing to Xunxian to take part in whichever way he thought agreeable. But this is supposed to be stealth, and while he can fight, there's more than enough fighters on the team with more impressive abilities than his, so adding himself to it makes little sense.

Instead, he stayed behind to take stock of what they have, make sure they have enough resources to share - he remembers only too well how destitute they were on arrival and maybe they can take a bit of burden off their hosts this way. Karsa anticipated about ten people, which will be a tight fit but doable.

Once that's done, he takes residence in the main room with his guqin, providing a bit of musical accompaniment to the girls who are about to start entertaining for the evening. Most likely their new companions will be spirited in through the back. Might as well make the front of the house look like it's all perfectly normal.]

marian hawke (dragon age 2)

[fhawkeit]

a. one man's ESCAPE is another woman's loot

[All things considered, this hasn't been the weirdest situation Hawke has found herself in because of a mirror. There is so much chaos happening right now, what with the fighting and the undead and the mermaids and all of that, that surely nobody's going to notice her making her way to the captain's cabin?

She can only hope that she'll find her staff there - or any damn staff, really, she doesn't exactly have a bond to it - because maybe that will help the world make more sense. Captain cabins usually store loot, right? If the same is applied here, maybe it's not that bad, and she can adjust.

If you find her on the way, and encounter trouble, she's got a knife and a total disregard for her own safety, so she will help you kill that undead as best as she can (she's more of a range fighter, so hope you enjoy pep talk?). A shame about that dead guard on the ground, though, right?]

Waste not, want not, and all that, right?

[There's a very casual shrug, before she starts to rummage through the dead guard's pockets, for coin or weapons (does nobody carry grenades here?) or - oh, look at that. Quarz.]

... I'm sure it'll be useful later. [Let's be real, at this point she'd take a pair of moth-eaten trousers if they were stuffed in a barrel too.]

b. it's no Blooming Rose but it'll do

[Friend, ask yourself this: do you look like you a. know what's going on, or b. were on that ship? Then you've got yourself company for the evening, since as soon as sorceress Karsa withdraws, a young(ish) woman sits down next to you.

She carries two mugs of whatever passes for hot beverage being offered to the newcomers, one of which she sets on the table by you.]

It really says something about the whole thing when this is where we're supposed to find refuge, right? Tea - or what I hope is tea?

c. wildcard

[Hit me up with whatever! For reference, Hawke is a smart-mouthed mage who is very used to being a refugee, working off an indenture, and searching the pockets of every foe that's been felled. It's called the economy, look it up.]

b.

[abaratian]

( Candy looks absolutely like she hasn't a clue what's going on. but she doesn't seem too perturbed by it. the explanation seems more or less sufficient for now, and they are free.

so the young girl accepts the beverage from the woman offering it too her. instantly, her hands feel warmth spread through her fingers and she lets out a soft sigh. she brings it to her lips to sip and purses them a little. )

I don't drink a lot of tee, so maybe it's good? ( if it is, how would she know? but who is she to judge.

it's really not great in her opinion. ) I have a feeling I may be behind on more than a few things. ( Candy says. ) But at least we've been saved? ( always look on the bright side, right? )

[silverneedles]

i. the mirror

[ The mirror haunts Wen Qing in her waking days. It's the nightmares that get her. Sometimes, she can't remember them; other times, they're too vivid, her worst fears made manifest: her brother dying; her uncle, now dead, finding out that she helped his enemies; a botched surgery.

There are herbs she can take, spots on the body she could jab with one of her needles, to sleep, possibly without dreams. But she doesn't have her needles, no access to the herbs she knows (or, indeed, any), and thus she has to live with nightmares and haunted dreams.

The night before any visit to the mirror, red mask in hand, she spends struggling to stay awake, staring into the distance from her cot, or pacing the ship when she can manage. ]

ii. to work

[ Sewing up sails is not that different than sewing flesh. Well, it is somewhat different, considering the tools she has to work with and the fact that a body is different from a piece of cloth, but it plays better to the skills Wen Qing possesses.

It is, however, tedious work, and it certainly doesn't keep her mind from wandering, or her attention from straying.

They're on a ship, surrounded by sea creatures, in an unknown place. It makes her wonder: ] This ship needs to dock somewhere. Where? When?

iii. escape.

[ Her questions have been answered, somewhat. If a boarding party can be an answer.

Wen Qing is no fighter, even though she's been trained to carry a sword and knows how to use it. She'll leave most of the fighting to those who seem capable of handling themselves. Her attention is drawn to anyone injured, dashing over to drag them from the heat of battle, using what spiritual power she has to diagnose and treat, patching up any larger wounds with a regular sewing needle. ]

iv. wildcard

[ open to other prompts & happy to write up a personal starter, if desired. ]

i.

[paperbutterflies]

[ It takes a while. Because his own memories are being played with, after all. But eventually his own nightmares have brought hero to his awareness, and when she steps beside him, he just.

Blinks. ]

... Wen Qing jiejie?

[ For a strapping young man of good health and reasonably healthy physique, his voice sounds kind of. Small? ]

Vanya | The Umbrella Academy

[remugient]

A. Mirror Mirror

[Oh she does not like sea travel, she finds out rather quickly. Or maybe it's the drained feeling that has her slightly nauseous and wanting to lay face down and disappear into the earth. Or, er, the sea? This isn't the first time she's woken up some place weird with no idea how she got there, but she wants off this boat, god damn.

But blowing a hole in the ship is probably bad, since she doesn't know how far they are from land. It's probably for the best she seems kinda fuzzy--not really drunk or high, but something similar to when she'd been on her medication. When she feels more aware, she studies everyone, trying to figure out what Five or Allison would do.

...Alright murder probably isn't an option, and Vanya has the charm of a paper bag. New plan! The Vanya Plan!

She slides up to someone else on Fish Cleaning Duty]

Soo... Come here often?

[She immediately cringes at herself. The Vanya Plan sucks, abort abort--]

I didn't-- That's not what I meant... to say. That's just... The words. Coming out of my mouth. [Pause. Loudly:] I think we need more fish.

B. Look Out Below

[being up on deck makes her stomach feel marginally better at least and she sighs as she leans against the railing to stare down at the water drifting by. Maybe she'll see a dolphin or something, even if the sea might be too cold for dolphins. (She's glad she was dressed for cold weather when she woke up anyhow). She assumes. Maybe. She doesn't really know sea creatures, okay?

But she certainly knows what a mermaid looks like, though at first she thinks it's someone having fallen into the water.] There's-- Hey! [She splutters, looking around, tying to figure out if she's going to have to push the water out of the way or something, but then another look reveals...a tail??

Vanya stands there for a moment, opening and closing her mouth, looking around in open bewilderment.] Did...anyone else see...?

C. Escape

[At least Vanya can safely assure the explosions aren't her own doing, this time. She still can't say she understands anything that's going on, either, but it seems they're fleeing the ship to safety (ish?) and that's good enough for Vanya!

She hurries through the ship, throwing up invisible barriers to deflect attacks and mostly trying not to use her abilities here, still not entirely confident in her ability to control it after all the...whatever that was with the mirror. She looks deathly pale, irises white, a blindingly white light pulsing at her chest as she slices through undead like butter. But she quickly dispels the light after a bit, returning to looking normal as she stumbles over sliced up bits of, uh, corpse-people, looking faintly ill but no longer deathly pale.

When she rounds the corner and sees someone, she groans a little, taking a step back. Her head is starting to hurt.] Please don't be one of the bad guys.

D. A Bad Time

[There's just a little too much chaos. There's a lot of sounds of fighting, a lot of explosion noises, a lot of screaming, a lot of yelling, a lot, a lot, a lot. Vanya's head is pounding. The smell of corpses and the sea water and the fishy smell make her stomach churn. She wants to pass out and she wants to run, and mostly she just wants it to stop.

She stumbles to her knees when the boat rocks a certain way, making her feel dizzy and sway with it.

Clamping her hands over her ears, desperately trying to block out some of the sensory overload, Vanya tries to remember to breathe. There's a faint humming in the air, a vibration; there's a glint of it that one might be able to see as a shimmer in the air engulfing Vanya's form as she curls up with her forehead pressed to her knees.

Breathe. Breathe.

One of the undead creatures seems to think her an easy target, because it leaps at her--and is promptly torn to shreds on the invisible barrier she's created, the wind and water beginning to whip around her like it's a tornado with her at the center.]

Just-- Be quiet! Can everything just be quiet for one minute?!

E. Wildcard!
[The Wildcard prompt! For anything else. You know how this works.< I'll match the writing format anyone wants to use!/]

D

[somebadnews]

[ The chain of events that bring Five to the ship seem both completely unlikely and utterly inevitable. He doesn't have the foresight of knowing that the world will end in a few days time, but there's a lingering sense that events have been put in motion that are leading them down a familiar path. For one thing it's his own actions that got them the attention. His attempts at teamwork that best suited his goals, if not his failed diplomacy. A grand plan or dumb luck. Either way, here they are.

He didn't announce his intentions or pledge support when the call went out, he simply listened and waited. It's the light that he can see, even at a distance, that draws him into action. Immediately he recognizes it, and he has to force himself to stay calm enough to do what he has to do. Shockingly he doesn't trust a single one of their group to know how to handle one of his siblings if they're among the captive. Sure, they've proven to be capable in their own right, but that's not enough when it comes to family. Especially not the ones who have a history of bringing on the apocalypse.

Actually getting on board when relying only on himself proves to be more tiring than expected. Still too soon after he'd overtaxed himself days ago teleporting more than several times his weight during the heist, and then again when he moved the majority of what he took to a safer location. Here he has to perform numerous spacial jumps in succession over long distances, hopscotching between nearby ships over a sea of undead sea monsters that he tries to never look at too closely. Judging by the blood and grime that stained his uniform by the time he reaches the deck of the Imperius, that isn't the only obstacle he encountered along the way.

One he finally appears on the ship, he takes stock of the chaos around him. It's not long before the light catches his eye again. ]

Vanya. [ He doesn't take any risk of anyone else reaching her first, so he ignores everything around him and sprints straight towards her. As soon as he's close enough something else hits her energy barrier, and he can feel a splotch of gore hit his cheek. But it's her voice rising above the wind. It's definitely his sister, which is briefly mind blowing. And shit if this isn't going to get out of hand fast if he doesn't do something.

Taking a deep breath, he performs one more spacial jump, carefully landing just inside her barrier. He drops to his knees and his hands hover just above her shoulders, hesitant as he tries to get her attention. ] Vanya, calm down, it's okay. You're not alone.

Wen Kexing | Word of Honor

[wenderer]

Fish

[ Wen Kexing swiftly beheads a fish and guts it with movements that would have an impression of practiced dexterity, if only they weren’t quite so savage. A couple of sessions in front of the mirror taught him the futility of resistance; besides that, they’re out at sea. Although mutiny remains a possibility, without fully knowing the capabilities of his fellow captives, nor of his captors, it’s too dangerous a plan right now. Once ashore however… ]

No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anyone like that go by.

[ This is in response to a man asking around for a fellow crewmate. Wen Kexing’s voice is docile and sweet, as he deftly scales the fish. The man walks away; Wen Kexing watches him go with an innocent expression that quickly resolves to something more feral as the man disappears. To any fellow captive, he’ll say: ]

Oh well. Accidents happen.

[ He glances down meaningfully at the deck, upon which there’s a spatter of blood. Whose bright idea was it, after all, to give a prisoner a very sharp fish knife? ]

Mermaids

Are you sure?

[ Wen Kexing is leaning over the deck railing, having a conversation with what appears to be a naked man, treading water. ]

I’d bring it to you, but it’s not very nice. I’m being honest, here. Is there anything else you’d like?

Undead mermaids

[ The storm is bad enough. But now he has to whirl around to the side, to avoid being smacked by one of these ghouls throwing themselves on the ship. ]

Eh? What happened to you?

[ He’d rather enjoyed chatting with the merfolk, even though they were hardly the best conversationalists, fixated as they were on the mirror. Still, they were (relatively) easy on the eyes. Better than the crew, at least. ]

Ashore

[ He is speaking amiably to one of the guards… ]

Thanks for the voyage, but I’m afraid I’ll be leaving now.

[ …as he lifts the man up with one hand, by the neck, in a chokehold. The man’s legs kick and jerk, until he finally goes still. After tossing the man’s lifeless body aside, Wen Kexing glances over to you, a fellow captive, and says in the same pleasant tone of voice, as he gestures towards the exits: ]

Coming?

fish

[feralinnatomb]

Accidents do.

[ Look he wasn't judging what had happened. Accidents happened and some of those accidents often involved people getting in the way of the wrong person. He understood that, but he does find that using a fishing knife was not the best choice. After all, they easily bend if not break against human ribs. ]

Better fix the knife better.