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westwhere2022-09-03 10:11 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-09-03 10:11 pm
plot roll | gulliver's travels
GULLIVER’S TRAVELS | EIDRIS
The dragons of Eidris remain agitated after Aiva hatches her eggs and her mate Ariste is allegedly wounded by a Minaras reconnaissance ship, the Relint. Outraged, Eidris aristocracy demands satisfaction, but war-wary king Thivar III soothes tempers until Minaras’ involvement is proven. Scouts report the Relint has crashed in the Sibilant Sands wasteland near Serthica, where dragons used to roam and mate. Dragon warlord Cain d’Ubiq organises a three-day flight expedition to recover the Relint, accepting companions.
✘ OBJECTIVE: locate and investigate the Relint.
■ Thirty dragons and riders, led by Cain d’Ubiq, leave once Eidris rises overground at 6:00am. Cain and two of his companions fly martial, fire-breathing dragons.
■ Every dragon rider is given three days of smoked meats for their dragons, food and water supplies for themselves, two blankets, binoculars and climbing hooks and gear. Riders are advised to wear warm full-body clothing and to cover their mouths.
■ Departing Eidris, you learn that you fly in the middle of the sandstorm season, amid deep reddish mists that rapidly exhaust you and vicious whirlwinds prone to unsaddle you. Don’t get lost and catch anyone who falls!
■ Through mental links, riders can sense their dragons are unnerved by the weather and the thought of confronting the Relint. Many transmit image glimpses of the Eidris-Minaras conflict, when dragons frequently battled warships.
■ Dragons are wilful and predatory creatures: try not to slip off when they suddenly pair up to play tag, hunt large birds or chase the flocks of nocturnal peaceful cloud whales.
■ The Sibilant Sands are a long, red, arid and withered stretch of land east of Serthica, littered by fog-drenched peaks and abyssal, sudden canyons. You may experience spells of inexplicable thirst, dizziness and listlessness.
■ Each night, the dragon party alights at watch points — very high plateaus, that host a few man-made caves. Cain d’Ubiq recommends sheltering your dragons. Squeeze in with them, or negotiate warmth with your fellow travellers: the Sibilant Sands are fiercely cold at night, and large fires can alert hungering man-sized hawks.
■ The stormy weather and recent events have left your dragons exceptionally skittish, prone to fits of anguish. Your physical presence — stroking, feeding, or grooming — reassures the dragons, as can your explicit efforts to send them happy, positive feelings. Think. Happy thoughts.
■ At long last, you reach the Relint: a small plane vessel that has crashed and remained stranded at a vast height between two steep cliffs that house several hawk nests.
■ Dragons are too large to fit in the space occupied by the Relint without being seen and attacked by the hawks — but you can leave your mounts behind and ascend with your climbing gear. Beware brutal hawks and storms.
■ Those who finally enter the Relint find no human remains — only two man-sized, straw-filled burlap mannequins, with a puddle of cold dark water at their feet. The mannequin ‘pilot’ wears a crudely painted fox face. The ‘navigator’ has a bear one.
■ Drop a line if your character plans to touch the dark water: you can get information, but please be aware there will be some unpleasant consequences.
■ The ship is very battered, showing Serthica markings: only RELINT remains visible from a distance, from the originally engraved AERIAL HEALING UNIT.
■ Dried blood is smeared on the back of the ship, where a fresh indentation has taken out the Relint’s engine. Any dragon that smells a sample can convey through images this is the blood of Ariste.
■ Grab whatever you need and fly home: the Relint creaks, rattles, and is at all times just about ready to fall.
NPC ACCESS: CAIN D'UBIQ
QUESTIONS
Like camping, but bring your own wasteland.
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1. How would the dragons respond to Drogon in general, especially while skittish? Is it like introducing new cats to each other?
2. Can Drogon follow her into the Relient. He’s much smaller and all wyvern-y
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1. You know what, let's go with both — some dragons love Drogon, some are a bit territorial and threatened by him. He's small, so I imagine on average most dragons would be more keen on him than defensive around him, but let's have a little bit of both, why not? Whatever you're feeling during a thread, because I imagine you could have fun with both.
2. Sure, you go, lil guy!
Also, if you want, you're very welcome to have her use some of ~ Targaryen magic ~ aka 'Targaryens are catnip' to soothe dragons during that aspect of the flight. Or you can have it not work at all. I don't want to dictate either way, but it's an option if you want it.
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Would it be possible to bring back a piece of burlap? Like the fox or the bear head? Is more dark water leaking out a risk? My thinking is it might help Team Gulliver connect some dots with Team Neutral Zone for this one.
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chu wanning
At Cain d'Ubiq's behest, foremost meteorologist, Chu Wanning is closely consulted for his good opinion on the safety of travel, prior to the dragons' departure. Dragon expeditions — particularly large-scale ones — are susceptible to weather conditions, and it's advisable for them to only be carried out in the absence of storms.
Whatever Chu Wanning forecasts is less relevant than what he might notice upon inspecting the meteorology institute where he's taken to conduct his projections. The place is in dire, dusted and ill-attended state, for all there are guardsmen that still watch the entrance. If asked, they seem a little hazy and confused, saying they don't quite remember when or who the last person was who entered the institute. Inside, Chu Wanning may find tools that haven't been calibrated in years, while the pages of the latest available records date to roughly five years prior, wet, black and blood spattered very discreetly on the corners of some pages.
The last entry notes a sudden, completely unexpected flooding of "filthy" water. The six entries prior discuss an increasingly worsening drought that shows no signs of abating.
Does Chu Wanning forecast good or poor weather for the expedition?
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sylvain
It's hardly all fun and games, mounting and traversing rooftops for a living, but a chimney sweeper's got to earn his keep. As he merrily goes about his business in the days preceding the dragon expedition, while Eidris is overground, Sylvain might notice a few interesting behaviours among the various dragons that are allowed to fly and stretch their wings without their riders:
■ One very early morning, for two hours, a minority of dragons seems to float listlessly, as if they struggle to remember where and how they have ended up mid-flight
■ These dragons appear indifferent to the humans who call them and refuse to 'connect' and enter the image-based communication of their species. Dragon riders and dragon guards are often on the rooftops, seeking to signal these dragons down with lights and lanterns, or to draw them close with treats and rein them in. These people complain that the dragons are 'roaming' or 'scattered' — a mood that they claim strikes some dragons from time to time inexplicably; they always seem to recover from it
■ The fire-bearing martial dragons intercede to shepherd the transport dragons back into 'good behaviour.' The interactions are firm but peaceful, and typically take place when the 'roaming' dragons seem to fly higher and higher, closer to the sun — revealing, for a flicker of a second, the stretch of their membranous skin reduced to just bones. The dragons are always normal, when they come down.
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souji | mo ran
SOUJI
No one expects the crab carcass enthusiast to get a piece of the undead action — but teaches you to underestimate a crustacean aficionado. Fellow collectors approach Souji with information of new crab archeological findings in the Sibilant Sands wasteland outside of Serthica. Enthusiasm erupts among the crab-loving league, and Souji is selected to host the much anticipated set of incoming crab remains.
An entire coffer of them arrives through customs, with officers dubiously questioning what's inside the box, but ultimately surrendering it without further inspection. If Souji's crab hobbies are to go by, he has the kind of money to support exotic purchases.
Once Souji reaches his humble Eidris above, he might find the coffer begins to... rattle at night, making a familiar, guttural sound Souji may have previously overheard on the network. If he opens the coffer, he will find — bones. Visibly human, weather, and some that point to dragon wings. The bones are covered in string and a web of translucent, dark water. They wriggle, thrash — and often, in the case of hands and claws, try to choke or stab Souji, or whoever's in the vicinity of the coffer.
MO RAN
Separately, our friend Mo Ran receives an underground tip off from a fellow opiate criminal looking to diversify his interests, who lets him know that scouts have started finding human remains from the Eidris-Minaras conflict, outside of Serthica. Crime lords are working to buy the remains early, then ransom them from their relatives for ample profit once they reach Serthica.
Work together or apart, enjoy!
IT'S A LEAK
Up to three characters can get information by touching the dark water in the Relint, but it will come at the cost of a bit of temporary body horror. No permanent physical damage.
First come, first served...
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Cost (excuse the c/p): whatever limb or part of the body that touches the dark water becomes fleetingly 'contaminated': for four-eight hours (your choice), it will feel as if that body part is assailed by hundreds of sharp needles from within. The pain suffered will range from severe discomfort to spells of acute pain that no magic or healing can alleviate. It will feel as if something is inside the body part, stretching it out, filling to assume its shape from within and shifting bones and flesh in the process. This pain fades gradually.
Outwardly, there will be no visible bodily change, and your character will suffer no long-term biological damage as a result of this episode. The brief contamination leaves no sign of possession, although the body part will feel 'death-touched' or reek of death for up to three days, to any necromancer your character encounters, or to anyone sensitive to life and death energies.
Dragons will be greatly reluctant to interact with your character in this contamination period, but you can assume they'll allow (very rocky) transport, if you need a fast getaway.
Please check in and we can adjust the above, if any of it touches on any personal triggers for you — definitely do not want you feeling forced to play out something that makes you uncomfortable.
Gain: Daenerys can see a memory glimpse from the perspective of someone
or somethingin the pilot's seat. Its hands seem to transit between human flesh and the coarse, tattered material of burlap. Aerial instructions ('turn east,' 'keep at height,' 'expect obstacle near...' ) can be heard murmured from behind in a staggered, mechanical voice that says to prepare for landing — before a blinding light erupts from the west and the Relint begins to rattle down in what was decidedly not its planned landing. A guttural, croaked sound previously shared on the network can be heard from behind the viewer. ( content warning: the iconic Grudge movie sound, for reference ). The Relint crashes.no subject
Gain: Diego can see a memory glimpse from the perspective of... something collapsed, unmoving. The vantage is very narrow and land-bound, as if the viewer's head touches the ground, paralysed. Ahead, at distance, blurred masked men prepare the Relint. One is in awe they were able to find parts old enough to match the vessel's requirements and patch it up. Another remarks the real strike of luck and strangeness was finding a vessel of this fleet, period — since the entire medical fleet was presumably burned down with the last signs of the 'coal sick.' One of the men suddenly wrenches back in horror, asking if they're going to get sick for having touched it, but the other two laugh, saying the 'coal sick' is gone and never coming back.
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Cost (excuse the c/p): whatever limb or part of the body that touches the dark water becomes fleetingly 'contaminated': for four-eight hours (your choice), it will feel as if that body part is assailed by hundreds of sharp needles from within. The pain suffered will range from severe discomfort to spells of acute pain that no magic or healing can alleviate. It will feel as if something is inside the body part, stretching it out, filling to assume its shape from within and shifting bones and flesh in the process. This pain fades gradually.
Outwardly, there will be no visible bodily change, and your character will suffer no long-term biological damage as a result of this episode. The brief contamination leaves no sign of possession, although the body part will feel 'death-touched' or reek of death for up to three days, to any necromancer your character encounters, or to anyone sensitive to life and death energies.
Dragons will be greatly reluctant to interact with your character in this contamination period, but you can assume they'll allow (very rocky) transport, if you need a fast getaway.
Please check in and we can adjust the above, if any of it touches on any personal triggers for you — definitely do not want you feeling forced to play out something that makes you uncomfortable.
Gain: Emilia can see a very rattled memory glimpse, torn between instances of awareness and blackout. The viewer seems to lack mobility and the shakiness of its perspective and of the ground beneath suggest it is rolling on the ground. From behind, laughter as an unseen man kicking the viewer asks what in the world they're supposed to do with 'these'? Another joins in, speculating 'Chrichter' has 'lost it,' but the other man is 'welcome to be the one to go and ask him.' The image settles as the viewer stops rolling, showing an empty streak of cement, as dark water starts to leak from the viewer. An immense shadow deepens ahead — as the feet of a dragon come into view, presumably when the great beast lands. Between the creature's howls, Emilia can, with difficulty, hear a new muffled voice — perhaps belonging to the dragon rider — urging the other two men to,'Take care with them. You know he hates them hurt.'
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Gain: Diego can see a memory glimpse from the perspective of... something collapsed, unmoving. The vantage is very narrow and land-bound, as if the viewer's head touches the ground, paralysed. Ahead, at distance, blurred masked men prepare the Relint. One is in awe they were able to find parts old enough to match the vessel's requirements and patch it up. Another remarks the real strike of luck and strangeness was finding a vessel of this fleet, period — since the entire medical fleet was presumably burned down with the last signs of the 'coal sick.' One of the men suddenly wrenches back in horror, asking if they're going to get sick for having touched it, but the other two laugh, saying the 'coal sick' is gone and never coming back.
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Diego is exactly this dumb
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NPC ACCESS | CAIN D'UBIQ
Drop a starter here, if you want a thread with Cain d'Ubiq — the only request is to please bring questions and be available to finish this by 20 September.
emilia di carlo, kindom of the wicked.
wildcaaaaaaard
( The dragons, then. If Lan Wangji has learned aught in this citadel, it is transgression — how to reduce himself, splintered into silent steps and hungry, pale hands, and to abscond the shape of himself in silence. How to emerge, more thief in daylight than honoured cultivator, touch trembled when it lingers over that which is not Lan Wangji's to catch.
The dragons fend for themselves, after their — trouble. A hushed, ill-gotten tragedy, the turbulence of one creature, infecting the many. They say, Aiva had her reasons, the better part of her soul nearly slain. And can Wangji, of all men, fault the grief of her and how it shaped her anger, wrong? It has left the remaining dragons at tenuous balance, skittish or hissing or prone to fits of arrogant disaster Lan Wangji has been instructed not to provoke. Better, more learned men than he say, Do not approach the dragon in their nests.
Yet the dragons, Wrathion has shown him, harbour death. The dragon might be the key to this. Come break of bleeding, liminal dawns, when the flock of winged creatures cuts the skies like arrow tips, descending back down — he does not think, he has entered Eidris without cause, without passport, no doubt without the leave of its caretakers. Certainly, without invitation.
He does not think he will intensify discomfort that the dragons already hungrily harbour. He does not think he is unwanted, unnecessary, wrong — he barters only a barrel of fresh well water from the nest attendants who crowd and wait and murmur, all youthful effervescence, That's him, Cain, you see his mount? They say they took down fifteen ships together in the war, can you imagine? In one day? That's him! And Lan Wangji's feet skid on fresh oils and lamp spill like viscera, gleaming, and it's to draw the dragons close, they say, to reflect lights, They like flame.
When they come down, they're jut of gem beauty, span of their strong wings a forlorn, carnal majesty, and breath's ribboned from Lan Wangji's lungs as if it's their claws wrenching it raw, raking — as if, when Emilia descends, dainty sweet shine of her dragon's skins blinding, he is somehow yet expected to survive the moment. At the last second, before the dragon's coiling tail nearly sweeps him, when the hand of an attendant draws him clumsily back, he recovers himself — retreats, lets the dragon find its footing, compact, then loosen it in place. When he nears again, it's to sit the barrel of water before the creature, where it sways tentatively under the heft of her greedy muzzle.
He anticipates rejection before Emilia must hiss it — but all the same, he binds his hands near the dragon's thick, heaving flank, to offer the witch a step for her dismount. )
Say nothing. ( By way of greeting, where they are watched. Do not betray him, the irregularity of his presence, as ill-fitting here as the cloying stench of spiritual rot that descends now, gelid, the more heartbeats he spends in Emilia's company, and he blinks, blinks again and his eyes nearly water, blinks and corrects himself — ) ...tell everything.
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shelter for the night
The dragon's dismissal is as easily felt in return.
"I can offer us warming talismans, or those stones from... were you even here yet, when we had the thralled stones for heat?"
He smiles, more the awkward black-clad gaunt man than he ever is, uneasy with the whole of this, knowing that's no small part coming from the dragon he shares bond with. That this is finding one answer in many, and what new questions they'll have, and where those will lead too.
To a citadel with dragons born feeling dead, and the sickness it leaves in his stomach, wondering what if. His nightmares are worse, for all he can't recall their details waking, and that too drags his feet, even with Lethe already making a place to curl up along with Emilia's dragon bond.
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wildcard. video.
still he worries for her. the further she went - the less he could feel of her through the bond. it's still there, but he worries he will not know if she is in danger or if something were to happen. she told him she would reach out when she has the chance, and so he waits for her call while he sits on the rooftop of the building where five and wrath share space.
the sky is dark, which is utterly familiar to him. his body is poised with tension as if waiting to strike though there are no enemies near, no sign of danger, nothing to make bleed. one of the many candles she has given to five sits beside him, lit. it reminds him of her, the smell of it sweet like cannolis, the firelight warm. )
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→ wrathion
( A cultivator and a majestic dragon of lore walk into a tavern —
Tale as old as tattered time, but Lan Wangji humbly begs correction: he drifts, dragged down the labyrinthine, gilded streets of Eidris by the hand of every urchin he has tipped unnecessarily with Wei Ying's coin. It strikes him, onnce they have brought him near the drink establishment, that they intend for the handsome rich man to weaponise the advantage of his age and procure them wine for their untried mouths.
...and Wrathion — distinguished, if not through the gleaming dark of his skins, than the absurd radiance of his disapproval — doesn't saunter into the tavern, as much as he seems to have gently... rolled close to its walls and decided in favour of glaring gawking passers-by into submission. A wise tactic. Lan Wangji himself deploys him often, when he isn't dominated by children.
To tell by the startled, pointing, awkwardly laughing crowd that's gathered — including the one painter rushing to claim rights of distribution for every two-pence sketch of Eidris' single black dragon, you saw it here first, don't be buying from no other — he's doing a poor job of it. Lan Wangji, who partly intercedes only to escape the fetters of his juvenile captors, hasn't accomplished much better on this day.
In the crowd circle closest to Wrathion, a woman's searching her market bags, shining an apple as if she has discovered the sophisticated heights of bribery. Near her, a man launches into a detailed historical review of dark dragons and why they are, in fact, carbon blue, and it is only through a deviation of light beams and the weakness of the human eye, that this here shiny scale spread is perceived as black — Another man clumsily presents a pitchfork, as if he is uncertain whether he prepares to poke Wrathion, or scratch his hide.
Lan Wangji's long-suffering sigh could quake the earth. )
Apologies. This is my dragon companion. ( 'lo, but the Lan cannot utter a word of lie. ) He is. ( One blink. Another. Truly, the bliss of addressing a crowd. ) ...lost.
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Wrathion had hoped he might be allowed to spend longer around Aiva and her clutch this way, questioned less if he was a fellow dragon, but it seems they truly are unused to his coloration. There's something darkly fitting to know that wherever he travels, he is among the last of his kind.
Of course, the other problem is that now he has the indignity of being treated like a wild animal. Adults and children, pointing and laughing, making a fuss. Titans, this is far too much attention.
If only he could get away from these people so he could see the whelps --
He cannot tell if Lan Wangji is a blessing or a curse, in this.
The dragon swings his enormous head around toward the man and lets out a low rumble of warning. Where is this scheme going, and why isn't it getting there faster?
Wrathion supposes he can play along, but he doesn't have to like it. ]
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