station72 | [mission: hyrypia] give me my scallop shell of quiet, my staff of faith to walk upon

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[mission: hyrypia] give me my scallop shell of quiet, my staff of faith to walk upon

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Graze
WHEN: DAY :013
SUMMARY: A day of competition begins, and Hosts put their newfound skills to the test.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE GRAZE
DAY :013

A MOURNFUL SOUND passes across the Graze in the early hours of the morning: the mingling drone of the wind coming up across the flatlands and funneling into the depths of the Finger Maze. It saws, a tired, hollow constant noise. Carried with it up through the Great Flat are maybe forty visitors carried by a variety of carts and wagons, automated and incredibly austentatious live mounts. Apparently the events of the day are drawing a crowd from the surrounding farms and homesteads on top of the various diplomatic envoys already in attendance.

After a brisk, light breakfast the short blare of a horn cuts across the encampment. It seems it's time to saddle up.

I. THE SIDELINES
A CHEER SWELLS up from the assemblage of Rabadoceans as a team successfully completes their event. On a nearby platform, musicians takes turns striking up a series of fast paced, sparkling tunes and the tang of roasting meat is heavy in the air. There's a sense of festival in this that quickly becomes lively as the Hyrypians' official pleasantries cede encourage the Meradan's cheerful, competitive shouting and the Descendants'' entertained clapping and smiling. There might even be a few smiles to be seen among the typically grim faced Carpathan diplomatic envoy.

Get something to eat. Talk to a stranger. Make friends. ~~Sabotage a competing team.~~ Most importantly: keep your eyes and ears open. For every moment you might spend machinating, someone (or something) else might be doing the same.

II. THE SORTING
THE SUN HAS FULLY RISEN by the time the first event is ready to begin. There has been a constant bustle up until this point, people meeting up and splitting off again, members of Envoy’s checking in with each other, carefully discussing their strategies- or laughing the challenges off as a game. Now, all of the competitors are gathered together to be given their tools- the ropes and crooks of the Gryer wranglers- even as the spectators begin to gather at the edges of the large pen, some standing at the fences, other on long staggered benches along the edges. There are a flags strung up all along the fences and large banners fly from the outermost posts of the pen. When it is nearly time the teams are split- each of the members led to a different point on the outside of the pen, to the gates that will set them loose upon the false gryer within.

When it is time for the Hosts to begin, the gates are again reset, the Gryer are all released from their holding pens, and the spectators have become no less raucous. They’re so loud it’s almost hard to hear the horn that calls from the holding pen, but the gates that spring open in front of the hosts are signal enough for them to begin. They are afforded just enough time to make their way fully into the pen before the three Gryer are lit, scattered through the herd and still milling about. The clock- or whatever passes for a clock- is ticking, and the faster they manage the task- if they manage it- the better.

When it is over, the crowd cheers, either way- energized by the competition and the strong grassy flavored drink that seems to improve every Rabadocean’s mood.

III. THE MESSENGER RACE
A SERIES OF FLAGS marks the route of the relay race that runs along the edge of the outermost cliff faces - not that it's necessary. Spectators are strung along the sidelines that it might be possible to run the race using only them as a guide for where to go. The course itself is studded with obstacles - logs and ditches, stacks of brush and at least a few imposing walls made from coral harvested out of the Finger Maze. The riders of each team are dispersed along the length of the course toward the finish line, quiet and lonely (if you disregard the forty or so other riders from competing teams in your company) and waiting in the midday heat for--

The short burst of a horn. The first string of Elin and riders, each in possession of a ceremonial scroll, launch forward across the starting line. Hopefully. What would be even better? If they keep all their riders in the process.

IV. THE ELINMASTER RUN
THE FINAL EVENT comes late - so late that the sun is already beginning to move towards the high horizon of the clifftops, leaving a cool purple cast across the landscape as the competitors and spectators alike are gathered at the yawning entrance of the isolated splinter of the Finger Maze. Unlike the other events, there is no seating, no rows, no stretches of banners or strings of flags. The environment doesn’t allow for it. Instead there are ropes separating the milling crowds from the riders. There are no gates and no strict starting point; rather, there is an area the width of the entrance and forty feet behind it that the racers may begin from. A large number are clustered near the very front - eager but clearly at extra risk, the metal and rubber flesh of the Elin automatons pressed close enough to crush. In the stillness of the near-evening air, the anticipation for this event is more subdued. More hushed. It's clear that the majority of the race will not be visible to spectators or judges. There will be only a small party waiting at the end of the course, ready in the clearing to mark places, and no witnesses before that.

The most senior members of House Basittia stand on either side of the entrance, protected by the ropes and flashy in their officiator-wear. When the horn is blown, sharp and with very little warning, it echoes down the length of the waiting canyon walls. It echoes strangely, broken only by the sound of metal hooves pounding forward into the maze and out of sight.

The first challenge is immediate - beyond the wide entrance the canyon begins to narrow dramatically. Those who have chosen the front of the pack will be forced to either get ahead or muscle their way through the others around them. Those that have chosen to stay further back will find that the distance between them and the next rider ahead of them narrows. Before there is much chance to adjust to the new positions, there is the first obstacle - a ditch, narrow but sudden, ready to take the legs out from under an Elin that fails to jump. From there the course begins in earnest. A number of paths split off from the main line, each with their own challenges. Coral branches fallen in the path, others arching just over rider’s heads. The course is full of switchbacks and sudden turns and in places the ground is made of pebbles that slide beneath the metallic hooves of the mechanical beasts. The course narrows in sections, barely wide enough to allow one rider to pass, and as the race stretches on fewer and fewer are able to continue. Some riders simply fall, others are knocked off, others foul their mounts and end up as new obstacles for those behind them.

By the time the end is in sight - a large open clearing, the far end of which has a simple stage where the judges wait - many racers have been unseated and countless others have simply fallen behind. But for those who make it to the end, there is a note in an ancient looking tome and a ribbon to be tied around their wrists to show that they have completed their trial. They will linger there in the winner’s circle until the last of the racers trickle in. Once that happens, they will be allowed at a much more sedate pace to make their way out of the canyon and into the awaiting cheering crowd - into the beginning of night and the lighting of the great braziers and flames, the scent of a well-earned meal that awaits them carried across the Graze by the mournful sigh of the wind.

V. BEFORE, AFTER, AND BETWEEN
THE COMPETITION stretches long, each individual challenge met by scores of Envoys eager to impress or simply eager for something to entertain themselves with. But the day is made far longer by the time between the competitions which is filled with talk, general chatter, and some good- and less good-natured betting - all lubricated by a constant stream of the cool grass drink that’s growing rapidly more popular as the sun’s heat increases. There's plenty to do- and plenty to enjoy between the events themselves. People will have little trouble finding things to keep busy with. And after the competition is said and done there is dinner (of course), the great dining tents pulled open and even more crowded than before with the additional local color. It’s those locals, and perhaps the camaraderie born of shared experience, which seems to help encourage some of the Envoys to intermingle more than they have before.

Of course, not everyone is in a good mood. Some of the participants didn't perform as well as others. Bruised egos are as abundant as bruised bodies among some envoys... a potentially volatile situation considering the close quarters they share with other Rabadoceans who clearly think very highly of their own performances.

((OOC Notes: This log covers the competition events of Day :013 and any related sideline activities. You can find a full breakdown of the events/a place for mini-event specific questions HERE. Sign-ups will remain open until the next event log goes live, however going forward please make sure to either join the individual event or have a full team selected for the team events. Please be aware that signing up late won't give you extra time to finish your thread to qualify for the finale event.

Have more generalized questions? Drop them on the MISSION: HYRYPIA OOC POST or get in touch with us on the Mod Contact page.))

NAVIGATION • GAME CALENDAR • MISSION: HYRYPIA • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It takes some willpower to mentally drown out the excitement of the crowd as Seviilia gets to work on making sure her veils are secured tightly to her body. With the speeds she intended to be pushing her Elin to, there could be no mistakes -- if any of their faces were to appear on the track at an inopportune moment, they would compromise the entire mission. Wrists, ankles, midriff and neck -- everything is secured, no matter how ridiculous it might look.

It was difficult to say, having never seen such a competition before, but its hard not to believe that they have an upper hand. Even without her own ego getting in the way, Lakshmi had proven herself a skilled rider, and The Darkling commanded legions of his own footsoldiers -- she cannot imagine that he has never ridden on the back of a horse.

Asuka was the weak point in their group, if they had one at all. She'd given the girl a few guidelines to make things easier, and she could not imagine her eagerness to leave everyone in the dust would allow lack of skill to get in the way of her winning.

( How do you propose we order ourselves? )

The question is posed while she ties the last of her ribbons to her wrists.

( The young lady should lead. )

Said, as he beckoned to Seviilia. Give him your wrists, let him tighten those for you. He has followed suit with her, binding down the loose cloth and securing his disguise, pinning up any draping and folds to his figure to ensure that nothing is caught up during the race. It would be inopportune, dangerous. That the beast they're riding is mechanical only adds to the insecurity.

( A fresh, bold challenger - straight out of the gate? What ground she may lose to inexperience the three of us can make up in the other legs. )

Asuka, for all he knows, is precocious enough to be a decent surprise.

Asuka's practically vibrating with excitement underneath all of her layers of cloth and gauze. She's getting a chance to do something - and not just anything, something productive. Something exciting. Something she knows she can do, even if she doesn't have the experience the rest of her team-mates do. She, like Seviilia, is making a few last-minute adjustments to her outfit to make sure everything is secure. No different than ensuring the seals are all snapped tight on a plugsuit. Right?

She glances up, first at Seviilia, then at the Darkling. She doesn't know him. His mind is new to her, but she doesn't poke at that. Instead, there's a feeling of arrogance and pride and a touch of resentment.

( Inexperience? It's not that hard! )

Her experience with Seviilia had given her an idea of how to make it work. Now she was sure she could do it without much trouble. But she's young and arrogant and full of a need to prove herself useful.

( Just you watch - I'll leave everyone in the dust! These chumps won't know what hit them! )

Edited 2017-08-11 01:54 (UTC)

( That's the spirit. You'll be the mark against which the others will judge us, if so. )

I mean, if spirit was all it took to ride any sort of mount efficiently, Asuka was a shoe-in. The two of them were new to one another, exposed only recently ( if not in this very moment ) to comprehend how the other operated. But, because Seviilia had vetted the young woman, he was relying on her - no pressure, Asuka.

( I'm sure our competition may think you an easy mark.

Had we any plans on how to deal with the more cutthroat competitors? )

Because, seriously. Cut any one of the messengers off, and it'd utterly trash the rest of the run.

Gildor stands to the side, away from the Elin and their team of messengers, just close enough to listen in on the mental conversation. He's here to provide support.

So far he doesn't like the Darkling's take on it.

(I have... a number of spells that would disadvantage them. However, I'm hesitant to do so.)

Because you should all believe in yourselves as much as Asuka does, and it's mean. He's frowning under those veils.

(I would much rather use that energy to help improve your already formidable skills, if you'll all allow me to.)

How is disadvantaging them any different than knocking them off and/or sabotaging their mounts? Gosh. It's not like he's saying kill them, just mess up their chances, because they'll most certainly be looking to ruin this little team. Opportunists, all of them.

( Sabotage is fair play, in a competition.

And an obvious display of power would be bad for us - how subtle are you? )

If Gildor could, he'd be rolling his eyes.

(Playing fair isn't what I'm concerned about. I'm concerned that using magic to temporarily blind, deafen, or frighten the competition half to death will cause more suspicion than turning you four into gods among riders.)

He'll leave the sabotage to other hosts less heavy handed... unless they convince him to join them. He leans against the railing of the paddock, twisting his tall cane into the ground anxiously.

(All it would take is a touch before you begin. It will last roughly twenty minutes and make you all graceful and dexterous. What do you think?)

( If it'll give us an advantage, let's do it. )

[ Asuka's voice cuts in with all the subtlety of a brick to the face. She's glancing over her shoulder towards the Elin - and Gildor. Waiting around isn't something she enjoys but it's soething she's learned to tolerate. Sometimes you need to wait or bad things happen. ]

( Fighting fair is for idiots. )

[ She listens, yanking at the straps on her mount. Securing in the pattern of old habits - assuring everything is the way she likes, as she lets them talk around her. Shaking her head to the squabble of it. If they were here to earnestly race? Perhaps then she might have Gildor's reservation. A sigh and clipped cut of her thoughts. Enough of that. Even if she doesn't have the age or position being so new to the hive to expect anyone to listen to her - the slide of her thoughts is rather like rapping on a child's knuckles when you see them fighting over a toy. ]

( As it's all cheating - whatever form you prefer to call it. Give us whatever blessings you like - before the race. But make sure it is not too much. Winning too obviously will be the ruin of us all. )

[ She works at the leathers, pulling the strap under the saddle where she is a little longer in the leg but shorter in her upper body. Taking her preference in it, practically blunt, both in the work of her hands and in her planning. ]

( To that end, I agree, Asuka ought to be first. My Lord Darkling, if you would like to follow her, you will surely be able to make up whatever ground might be lost for inexperience. If I follow after, I can ensure none of that ground is lost - and Lady Servillia, you should be last, as I believe you need the help least of us if it all comes down to you. )

[ She was more than a human could manage, an impossible strength and speed and reaction, true enough. But they - they were something else again, and to them? She didn't have a false hubris. Just sure that she can hold her place, hold their position, not fall or falter either, but no more than that. If it simply escalated by steady increments - well, it would become too obvious that they were doing something else. That they were something else. ]

( I would also suggest, Mr. Helyanwe, if we prompt you, that anyone we direct you to finds themselves with a sudden malady in their stretch of the race. )

[ He would know the best form of how to do that, with as many tricks he seemed to have. Her own mind's eye isn't helpful. That flash of cutting the hamstrings of a horse as it swept past, letting it crush rider as it screamed and toppled. But then, she's been fighting a little too long to know how to play so bloodless easily anymore. Perhaps he can come up with something a little... cleaner than that. ]

She holds her wrists to The Darkling wordlessly, allowing him to finish what'd she begun. There is no interruption for everyone else's chattering, and she only gives the feeling of approval in Lakshmi's direction. It all made sense to her. Seviilia was not a creature of honor, after all. Cheating or not, it didn't matter.

Aside from the fact that she doesn't believe she needs the help, there is one other concern she has. Her mind turns to Gildor.

( You speak of magic. Arcane, I hope. )

'I hope' is a mere formality. Gildor would not be coming near her with anything based in the Light.

( Twenty minutes should be more than enough time, for those who need a boost. )

He also shares Seviilia and Lakshmi's sentiments. There was likely no honor to be found among the other competitors, each of whom had more of a stake in the outcomes of the race than the nest did. Wherever he was placed in the line-up, he had every intention of challenging the riders alongside them.

( I will follow Asuka - however, I would suggest that if we decide to remove any of our fellow competition, we do not do so without a focus. Our winning or losing will not grant us anything. It's been made clear that the people of this world do not count us among those they hold in esteem, nor do we have a stake in performing well. We're not here to win access to their resources.

But, if we were to cast another faction in a favorable light... we might find allies among them. )

It might be a little late to voice this, but it must be said. Regardless, he's a creature with his own pride, as well. And all three of them feed into that pride, a little more than he'd like.

Asuka instantly scoffs at the idea, even as she gathers up the folds of her robes and ties them out of the way so they won't catch on branches or the Elin or something else.

( I'm not going to lose intentionally. If someone is actually good enough to beat us, whatever- )

Although, really, she'll still be pissy about it.

( But I'm not going to throw this thing. )

It's not as if this race matters in the grand scheme of things, but it's really the first chance she's had to show off in ages and she's going to take it. She needs to prove something to herself. And maybe more importantly, she needs to prove to Seviilia that she's not deadweight.

No pun intended.

He feels the disapproval of his new queen, but only holds it in regard of her as fellow brood. Fine, she and Seviilia and Mr. Darcy Darkling don't have to take his support if they think they are all above it, but he'll provide Miss Asuka with the advantage of magic well before she's out the gate. As for the nature of that magic-

(Bard magic goes in all directions, Miss Seviilia. Light, dark, neutral. The spells I have in mind for today all lean towards the latter two.)

And for their desire for sabotage-

(If someone can provide me with a visual I can make sense of... then I might be able to cast spells on specific riders, given I am within range. The front rows should allow me that.)

His staff digs further into the ground, mental voice taut with begrudging agreement. But he offered all this, and he'll do it.

(I'm beginning to believe this entire Pilgrimage is a test to determine the most worthy of all the envoys. To that end I agree with Miss Asuka. Until we determine whose side this mysterious enemy of ours is on, we would do well to do well.)

~~Excuse you, Mr Easily Offended, he's all in favor of magic!!~~

( Fine, we'll give it our all. )

A pointed, ephemeral glance at the rest of them. Young Asuka, and the two experienced women he'll be relying on to complete the race. If they wish to win, there is no purpose in it, but he'll perform to his best as well - sabotaging themselves would give them nothing, and he's loathe to become stories and laughter in the other faction encampments.

As for you, Gildor - can you feel the intensity of his mind on you? Because he's very interested in your magic and what you've said.

( I agree. But again, WE do not count among the promised, so a win for us is merely for our personal pride. I'm not without such a thing, the same as you all. ) He won't throw the race, but win or lose, nobody will come to care any more or less about a gang of recluses.

( That being said, I'll also take any advantage - bard. )

( Have we considered that we will have no lead on where they hide until we take a risk on one of them? )

She offers her suggestion as she takes her arms from The Darkling, not before offering a small gesture of thanks by taking one of his arms in both of her hands. As far as Gildor's spells go -- all he needs to say is that the Light has the potential to be involved to steer her away.

( Surely one endorsement from a single trial will not be enough to sway the others -- but it may indeed gain us enough leverage with one respected faction to make more educated guesses in the future. )

( Second, then. We should come second then. )

Said as if she does not have her own competitive streak - but for the sake of planning this all out? They are right, the immediate victory does not matter so much as to further their goals.

( Coming second shows our skill, doesn't put us at too great notice. But it gives us reason to meet whoever is better, and those who did not place may come to congratulate us on our hard work. It will provide ample opportunity to meet other competitors should there be some kind of... celebration for the race. )

There is some obvious disapproval from Seviilia. That hadn't been her goal at all -- but her pride far outweighed any other quality she held near and dear to her heart, and so she is quick to speak up when Lakshmi makes her opinion known.

( I disagree. Our opinion on the others would carry more weight if we triumphed, even by a small margin. We are not presently respected as it is -- let us change that. Give them reason. )

Its a fight not to fold her arms, but she manages.

( I agree with Sev. )

[ Asuka interjects, mental voice rather "loud". ]

( We need to send these people a message! That we're respectable! Not just some religious weirdoes! )

[ Even if that's part of the point. She just can't imagine herself intentionally trying to throw this thing. It's just not her. She always gives 100%. Even if it's not always the best call. ]

Edited 2017-08-17 19:24 (UTC)

( I won't stop you, if you intend to win. I'm not without my pride.

But, why invite the watchful eyes of those that could endanger us? That's my only concern. )

Seviilia, he's very much enamored with you ( and your, uh, protege? is that what Asuka is? ) but sssssssaints among us.

[ He's a bit distracted by the Darkling's mental eye fixed on him. For one who made a living in the spotlight before, he's not sure he likes the attention. But the riders all seem to be craving a similar spotlight, and though he's just providing support, he agrees- ]

(I like the ambition here. Let them live a little, Lord Darkling, Rani. It's only one of three competitions after all.)

[ There's still plenty of changes for the other envoys to show off elsewhere. ]

Edited 2017-08-17 19:41 (UTC)

( There are always eyes upon you, my lord. )

Some of her annoyance is exchanged for easy flattery. Asuka gets the feeling of approval from Seviilia, a firm and supportive hand on her proverbial shoulder. The reality is that even if The Darkling and Lakshmi chose to tone down their competitive edge to force a loss, she would simply fight twice as hard to win.

But she won't put that to thought.

( Gildor has the right of it. We have been posing as a conglomerate of alien nobles with wealth and strange religious practices. Do you not think there are not eyes upon us already? )

Edited 2017-08-17 20:05 (UTC)

[ She feels the press of something long suffering at it - wayward, all of them. So inclined to win so directly. Her hands stop there drumming, then flicks them as if - what can she do? A huff of breath. Someone had to give.

Knows some battles aren't worth it - in the end, whilst there might be more prudent options, this doesn't hurt their over all go any more or less than anything else said. ]

( Very well. If that is your preference. Come first if you think it suits better. Try not to be too obvious? )

[ There's a spark of something when Seviilia's thoughts turn toward her. It's sudden abd bright and fills the space between all of them with a flash like that of the noonday sun emerging from behind a cloud. It's joy; simple, unfiltered joy at being thought highly of, of being backed up, at being reassured and cherished. She can't hide it, not through link, and she doesn't try. ]

( They haven't noticed anything yet. They won't notice anything now. )

[ Her voice, though, is the easy arrogance of someone who is young and thinks themselves invincible. Even if she, of all people, ought to know better by now. ]

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perroquet - 2017-08-22 04:24 (UTC) - Expand

Hey, Lakshmi. Someone in your party likes the cut of your jib. Even if everyone is prideful, and despises being among a losing party. He's just radiating the most subtle approval re: the way her mind works. ( Even if she is

unfortunately

nobility. )

It gets a polite nod back - well, at least there is someone with sense.

( Oh she hopes you never find out she was born as common as muck. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[mission: hyrypia] give me my scallop shell of quiet, my staff of faith to walk upon

MESSENGER RACE

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idc im hopping in and out......

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:*

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:* blows kiss jumps all ovr this plurk

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