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westwhere2022-06-03 07:06 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-06-03 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
- 2ha: chu wanning,
- arcane: viktor,
- asoiaf: daenerys targaryen,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- idolish7: tenn kujo,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- mo dao zu shi: xue yang,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- star trek: jim kirk (aos),
- storm at sea,
- test drive,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- travel arc,
- umbrella academy: diego,
- umbrella academy: five,
- vampire diaries: damon salvatore,
- warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- warcraft: wrathion
no man's sea
Avast ye — sprawling til 18 June is part I of the Storm at Sea travel arc, which doubles as a test drive. Participants don’t need an invite to reserve or apply over 10-17 June.
Try to label if you’re a test drive tourist or an old timer — and don’t hesitate to leave an OOC note to opt out of random NPC piraaaaaaaargh interaction. Test drivers can post both log and network prompts. Have fun!
AHOY! SCALLYWAGS
Departing Ke-Waihu, the existing party joins paranoid pirate king, turned stalwart saint Samuel Vane — the feared Quicksilver Sam — aboard the Pariah.
Test drivers awaken anguishing at sea, floating on rafts, or on minuscule patches of deserted land. They are collected by two pirates and the recalcitrant sorceress Karsa — who supplies translation and communication devices. She explains the newcomers were summoned into the land of Akhuras by warring undead factions. Karsa’s master, the elusive Merchant, ferries newcomers east to beacons hoped to return them home. He has secured them passage on the pirate vessel Queen Zanyra of ’Wet Rope’ Caladan Kreil, an associate of Quicksilver Sam.
The Pariah and Zanyra meet at sea, a day’s travel away from Ke-Waihu:
- ■ Characters overhear that Quicksilver Sam seeks to reach the haunted Crossing Seas and ‘settle an old score.’ Long-term ally Caladan Kreil supports his cause.
■ The two vessels make daily supply and crew exchanges by rowboat. The Pariah’s passengers must give the passcode: flaunted like gold to board the Queen Zanyra. Staff of the Queen Zanyra must speak the words before the blind man to access the Pariah. Forget your passcode and fall at the mercy of whoever patrols the decks!
■ Tasks await all passengers: diligently clean and polish decks, climb tall masts to sew torn sails, banish a preposterous number of seagulls, fish, read post or… dubious novels to sailors, count loot, guard the decks, clean cannons or serve as boat lure for shark fishing. Medics and cooks can practise their natural trades, while musicians and entertainers should amuse the crew.
■ By all means, grab thematic garments from crew coffers. Also available: daggers, swords and rare pistols.
■ Characters may notice both ship crews are spirited, but grow weary when Quicksilver Sam fitfully orders his five on-call priests to carry out protection rites, or to ‘exorcise’ evil from random staff — through ineffective bitter potions, shrill chants and requests to sit in unusual luck-incurring poses, or to commit some mundane, repetitive task. Let’s bore the devil away.
■ Treat senior crew with respect: some pirates are equally drunk on rum and fleetingly authority and reward perceived slights with a 24h-stay in the brig. These fine accommodations fit two and annul powers while there. No dinner.
■ Sleep where you can: hammocks and rotting mattresses can be found in great common halls beneath decks. The sick and women (naturally, ill omens at sea) can share the four private cabins of each ship. Sumeragi Subaru has his own cabin aboard the Pariah.
■ Each night, expect drinking beneath the halls and a pirate’s greatest hobby: gambling. Conmen might lure you into an ‘innocent game’ that sinks you deep into debt, winning your valuables, favours, or kidney!
■ Ladies are afforded a wide, begrudging berth and some authority over the crew.
■ Accommodations: fresh potions are readily available to ward off sea sickness, and magically resilient oranges are on hand to counter scurvy. As woe would have it, the long-serving Mr. Ishmael has passed, and his earthly remains have been retained aboard the Pariah for Kaneki Ken. Viktor receives a leashed emotional support albatross — a large, loud but docile bird that flies above him counter-current to balance him, whenever the ship’s sway threatens his footing.
OBJECTIVES
- ■ Discover why good Quicksilver Sam is intent on his haunted travels. The captain declines audiences, but try to get information from the two crews.
■ Please share the information gained via network…!
THAT SON OF A BISCUIT EATER
Trouble starts to brew, within days at sea:
- ■ Be on the lookout while on watch duty: on a handful of occasions, new faces appear aboard. They fail to offer the passcode — and attempt to injure characters, throw them overboard, or to enter the captains’ lodgings. Sound the alarm or seize intruders!
■ After interrogating an infiltrator, Caladan Kreil sends word that the assailants hail from the Concord, a war vessel of the Dawns’ Reach Trade Company that is pursuing the pirate ships at distance under the command of Maximilian Hawk. A credit to his name, Wet Rope Caladan has the spy hanged.
■ Prepare to get drafted for double watch duty, as both Caladan Kreil and Quicksilver Sam bolster defences. Tensions escalate, with pirate crew questioning the loyalties of newer recruits.
■ A few days later, at dawns, the silent, swift and massive Concord approaches close enough to fire its cannons at both ships and send vicious militia to climb aboard. Defend your ship!
■ The Concord withdraws by midday, after lightly damaging its opponents. Help with repairs and enjoy some rum — you’ve survived your first sea scuffle!
MOLLYWICK
Just short of entering the Crossing, where the seas are dark and highly opaque, the Queen Zanyra and Pariah encounter a stretch of vibrant, lushly forested land.
- ■ Both vessels send crew over for a few hours, with captains urging quick incursions. Pair up to collect berries, scant mushrooms and sweet water. Curiously, no animals are found.
■ Veteran sailors say this is the Neverflight isle of myth, where sea kings have buried their treasures. Pirates share legendary coordinates of long lost loot, archived as riddles or poems. Grab a shovel and a-digging you go!
■ …ah, but don’t linger too long. What pranksters your sailor friends are. Within hours of the island’s appearance, the earth beneath your feet crumbles and quakes, and the land starts to sink. Evacuate or call for help to get out of here — as the great white whale Mollywick submerges in the waters with the Neverflight island it carries on its back. Hopefully, you don’t go under with them.
■ If you’ve threaded out a treasure dig, drop a line to receive some especially deplorable loot. You deserve it.
THE CROSSING
The Pariah and Queen Zanyra — frequently chained together to avoid separation — creep into the Crossing : a stretch of eerily silent waters, dark and volatile.
■
- ■ Slowly, a thick, nearly impregnable fog dawns during the day, covering the sun and leaving the skies a desolate slate. Dreadful storms spark at night.
■ Strange, talking carps jump on board, offering to tell you your future. Caution: they only make bad luck readings (request yours) that turn true. They appear wherever their target flees and are exceptionally annoying, until either the moon rises, or you apply the superstitious cure of throwing salt on them.
■ Nightmares haunt you — your own, or glimpsed memories of ships crashing, sinking, falling to storm. Note: only your character suffers these memories/nightmares, but everyone else can experience their exhausted grumpiness, come morning.
■ Be wary, when pairing to cross over to the other pirate ship: you may find another rowboat beside yours, its sailor begging for an oar or ladle. If you give him one, he shovels water into your boat with inhuman speed — desert your vessel and swim quickly to a pirate ship, before undead hands pull you into the sea.
■ While alone on deck, characters might hear sweet, coaxing voices that urge them to walk the plank into the water. Break your brethren from this spell, or watch them fall into the arms of man-eating mermaids.
■ Now and then, the ships are shaken by long, whips of something lashing from the depths.
■ Pirates become increasingly skittish and on edge. Priests perform countless protection rites and exorcisms on both ships.
■ At night, a handful of undead men climb aboard. They lack awareness and are in a clear state of discomposure, looking to catch the living and drown them. With toothless, rotting mouths, some rasp, This is kinder.
■ As you officially enter the Crossing, beams of light erupt in the horizon, showing the distant silhouettes of several ghost ships.
NOTES
no subject
It reaches him. Her pain wraps around the heart he didn't even know he had until... her. He wishes he could tell her the truth to all her questions about the curse, about her sister. This grief she carries, it's- He would it all away to take it from her, but that is not the deal he made.
He stiffens, but does not budge at all through the fury like a mountain against the cataclysm within her. When she slumps, he catches her. He gathers her in his arms as something lodges in his throat as it did when they made their way through the Sin Corridor and she was ice cold and he worried, as it did when she was poisoned and he thought she might die. His heart aches, something ancient that has been broken for centuries.
Her fingers light up with untapped power against his chest: another thing stolen from her, and he wants to rage with it all, but he doesn't. He feels something- something akin to grief himself for all they've lost. The curse stays his tongue. He could answer her questions, could imagine who she sees, but he is not allowed to.
He lifts her nearer to him, away from the floor and the plank that nearly stole her from him. His heart beating faster, harder. His fingers dig into the fabric of her own clothing as he keeps her close. )
She isn't here. ( His voice is quiet, but it carries at the crest of her ear, close. He holds her close so she might feel his heartbeat and his breath at her neck. ) But I am. You are.
Come back to me. ( It isn't a command. No one commands Emilia - not even the General of War, the Angel of Death, The Devil himself. No. This is a request- a loving request. )
no subject
A heaviness weighs in her heart still, a different sort of knowledge: the scales of justice remain tipped. A choice hangs in the balance so that she may decide. To right a wrong, or damn them both. The missing piece stays just out of reach, no matter how hard she tries to seek it.
Only dimly aware she has been lifted off the floor, she braces the side of her face against his, one loving beast to another. Her ragged breath quiets the longer they stay like this. She can hear no other voice but his. The rain is easing with her. Stops. Thunder moves ever farther off.
To return to him and to herself is to welcome it all back. She grows rigid in his arms. )
It wasn't real. ( She allowed herself to be deceived, again. )
no subject
No, he is here with her, holding her tightly to his chest without letting go. He won't let go. He has missed this closeness. Their last trip stole it from them (not for nearly as long as before), but now they can be wrapped up in one another again.
He moves down and then stops when they have a quiet spot beneath the deck with the lights lit nearby. He sinks into a seat, lifting his hand up against the side of her face and then into her hair. Wrath nods in confirmation as an ache spreads out through his ribcage both painfully and powerfully. )
It was not.
( His voice is soft but carries )
A trick of the sea.
no subject
The brushing of his fingers along her face turns her toward him in quiet wonder, skim thrumming at this lightest contact. She'd wanted him so much upon leaving Taravast. Had been ready to give herself body and soul, and to receive his in turn. Then the village of Ke-Waihu stole more of her still.
Even at the height of their animosity, her attraction to him always burned bright. And it felt wrong, alien, to be so repulsed by his presence. By his touch. To carry new wounds for it, and find no grace in the absence. Now — now she is uncertain where they stand, after this village and after her betrayal.
She only knows she feels like herself again, like this fire is hers again. )
What, no lecture for allowing my emotions to rule me once more?
no subject
He lifts his brows. He has lectured her many times about this. However, the call of the mermaids is different. If her power was unlocked, she would be able to block it entirely, but- )
Would you prefer it if I did?
( He would certainly prefer her anger to her grief and pain, to the suffering that wrapped around her mind and nearly brought her to the plank.
However, whenever she is in danger or in trouble, the softer parts of him resurface as if they'd always been there but simply buried deep awaiting her return. )
no subject
My preference would be a warm bath and a bottle of demonberry wine.
( A purple so dark it appeared almost black, with silver specks floating like glittering bubbles all throughout it. Like glittering stars. She wants her own shimmering galaxy, the privacy of her own tub, and the space to think of what her next move is when they stand on so shaky ground.
It only scrapes the surface of what she would prefer, but the rest is out of reach. She focuses on that, focuses on the frustration and fury the reality of that brings, instead of the grief that pushed her toward the plank. )
no subject
( Wrath knew she would appreciate it, but it pleases him an inordinate amount that she should prefer it to the mortal wine she is far more used to. If they were in Hell, if they were back in the palace, she could have all of this - a warm bath, a bottle of demonberry wine.
Would they be sharing it? Would he sit with her while she bathed and planned along with him? He has not allowed himself to think it before in the village when he was so fresh off her betrayal, when she was disgusted at the thought of being close to him.
Now that they are free - he does visualize it. )
Unfortunately, we are trapped in this world and on this ship so a bath, of any kind, will require a significant wait, I am afraid. Or I would draw you a bath myself.
no subject
You're all civility, demon.
( Until it serves him best to remind others his true domain, of course.
Her head cants to the side, assessing him from this vantage point. )
What else might we do? ( If they were not trapped. If they were home, as though she truly knows what that means. )
no subject
His gaze draws over her neck from up close and then up to her lips, and finally, his hand rises. The palm of it presses tot he low of her back and then into the fabric of what she wears. )
Plot the slow demise of our enemies for one?
( A low murmur, a tiny smirk )
Enjoy a meal only you made, share a bed that is ours- ( His voice cuts off as the last time they did she poisoned him after all - His dark gaze lifts to her face ) Would you want that?
( Would she choose it? Choose him? )
no subject
( Emilia moves against him honey-slow, the curve of her molding to the stillness of him, stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Her half-lidded gaze takes him in, him and all his stillness. She was fooled by it once, and is not any longer. He will not remain unmoving. It's the war in him.
A demon that refuses to surrender, and a witch that will not yield. What an eternity they may have. )
You once said to me — you once said I should, under no circumstances, bargain with the devil. 'What's his is his.'
( Her hand slides from his shoulder down to his chest, over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. )
Was that true?
no subject
He holds his breath, captivated by her and her words, surprised by them in a sense.
He remembers telling her as such. He remembers, also, goading her into promising herself to the devil before she realized what that meant and who the devil truly was. Wrath wished to protect her. )
It was a figure of speech. ( His hand traces the curve of her body. ) A blood bargain does not equate possession.
no subject
They both know that is not what she meant: Wrath does not want to own her any more than Emilia wants to be owned. She made her intentions clear long ago, but the spectre of her twin lingers between them. A bond so powerful death has not diminished it. She knows this, too.
Until she has her answers, there is no putting it to bed. No moving forward.
And she wants him still, independent of anything and anyone else. This is also a truth. )
If what you said stands, then I would tell you there is no one else I want beside me. I would tell you what is mine is mine, as well. ( The tip of her finger slides under his chin, drawing his mouth closer to hers. ) Samael, haven't we waited long enough?
no subject
He would like to say they have waited longer than she knows. He would like to say he hates hearing his name said by anyone else, but it always sounds like an exquisite sin when she says it that way as if she is tempting the devil in turn and how he wants to be tempted by her. Only her.
In the end, Wrath has always believed in actions over words, and so he says nothing at all beyond reaching his hand up to frame the side of her face. He wants, more than anything, to tug her toward him so their mouths can press together, so he can devour her.
All the reasons they've held off until now be damned. However, as he leans in to do exactly that - his mouth a breath from her own, understanding she might claim him now as he wanted her to that night - the ship lurches violent and suddenly. His grip at her back tightens, and he stares up toward the deck above with an open sigh. )
More trouble. ( There always is. )
no subject
So many months fighting what they feel, and each other. Emilia used to hold on so tightly to her reasons for it, and at the moment, she can't think of a single one. There is only his damnable silence, and a greater understanding just out of her reach. She almost sees an outline of its shape, she does.
And then the spell, like so much else, is broken.
Regrettably, but not without decisiveness, she disentangles from his arms and follows the source of their latest upheaval. Feels Wrath close at her heels, and closer still when she brings herself to an abrupt stop. The priests are performing nerve-wracked exorcisms.
Sailors are attempting to cut off at the pass the undead that try to climb aboard. A storm is gathering in an already desolate sky, and her feet are unsteadier than ever with the lashings the ship is currently receiving. Like whips of something. )