[mission: hyrypia] then the holy paths we'll travel strew'd with rubies thick as gravel

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Graze
WHEN: DAY :014 - 016
SUMMARY: Two days of horseback hunting training, followed by the second round of competition.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE GRAZE
DAY :014 - :015
THE DAY FOLLOWING the festivities finds the majority of competitors and spectators still buzzing with the competition’s failures and successes, but there is little time to gloat or moan about the results. By the time the sun has risen over the graze there's a new announcement: there will be two days of additional training followed by another day of competition. Today and tomorrow will be dedicated to learning skills vital to the hunt.

0. TRAINING
THE TRAINING FIELD has become familiar, but the decor has changed- as have the the teachers. Unlike the previous riding and herding lessons which featured ropes and hooks, today's syllabus includes a series of more dangerous tools. The short spears that line the racks may be dulled but they still look painful, and the speed at which they're hurled from the intricately carved Sarvat - the traditional spear throwers - is intimidating.

At first glance, the slings of woven and stained Gryer leather are less impressive-- but the different ammo that can be loaded in them proves interesting: a bio-luminescent tagging liquid that stains the targets that it hits and leaves distinct trails, hard metal weights, and carefully handled poison globes.

Over the next day the envoys are are trained to use the weapons from Elinback in addition to being schooled in a number of simple traps and snares that leave little confusion as to the nature of the next challenge events...



THE GRAZE &
THE MINIATURE FINGER MAZE
DAY :016

I. THE CHASE
THE HERD of technomanced automaton Gryer sits idle in the knee-high silvery grass of the Graze. They're nothing like the Elin (who exhibit all the traits of live animals); these automatons seem to know only two basic concepts: don't run, and run. Right now they're practicing the former as the competing riders are divided into large, mixed hunting parties. Once the parties have been formed, they take turns taking their runs at the herd. Among the herd of thirty, four Gryer have been painted a brilliant sapphire. To strike one down requires either two metal weights to the head, a spear to the neck piece, or two spears to its midsection.

When the hunting parties take off so do the automaton Gryer. And they're fast, moving as of one mind - a school of mechanical fish through a sea of silver grass. It'll take cleverness, skill and a bit of daring riding to either cut the targets free of the herd or go crashing through among the running Gryer to strike a target down among its brainless brothers and sisters. Once struck enough times or in the right place, the sapphire Gryer will lose power and drive spectacularly into the earth.

The attentive audience (many of them armed with an array of binoculars from their personal belongings) might cheer when appropriate, but due to the distance at which much of the action takes place most of the observation is spent eating, drinking, and enjoying the shockingly pleasant weather.

II. THE 75th HUNGER GAMES PURSUIT
THE BREEZE GROANS through the shadowy pocket of the canyon system, whistling tiredly through the coral structures - along narrow bridges and between tight passages. Familiar to anyone who competed in the individual race on Day :013, this shadowy miniature canyon is crawling with automated creatures to 'kill.' The only problem? Beating everyone else to one of them. With the blare of that now-familiar horn, the hunters mounted on their Elin take off into the canyon and rapidly splinter into disparate groups or simply go off on their own into the tangle. It doesn't take long at all to lose sight of other riders, to begin to feel completely alone in the low light of early evening. Mist rises from the canyon floor and the breeze moans ominously through the pockmarked coral structures.

It'll take more cleverness and accuracy than high speed riding skill to claim a prize here. But best work quickly and quietly to avoid having your target poached out from under your nose…

III. THE AFTERMATH
THE SECOND CHALLENGE ENDS with a long, mournful cry of the now-familiar horn. All of the possible targets have been captured and to the victors go the spoils in the form of the accumulated scores, carefully kept by the judges. The losers are left empty handed-- at least until the spectators and competitors alike have made it back to the tent encampment. Then their hands are filled with the same liquor and a new spread of simple, filling, and delicious dishes expertly prepared by the servants of the manor.

There’s some ceremony to it - the meat they are eating is the same that they would have served if their hunt had been for something more than machines. However, mostly this seems to be a chance to relax sore muscles. That's aided by the addition of several leather-enclosed tents raised earlier in the day. Once the sun sets, these tents are filled with hot, relaxing steam and lined with benches: saunas! ...which might provide some comfort for anyone not stuck wearing a heavy robe. :(

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers the two days of mounted combat/hunting skills training and the competition which follows. 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 for the finale 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

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[sistershoggoth]

Better.

[ She agrees airily, although she still has a critique: ]

You need to learn some better music.

super fine, just like clint

[otrazhenie]

[ She must really be terrible at her shielding that night, for so many concerned Hosts to be knocking at her proverbial door. Perhaps some of them are concerned for her well-being, but just as many seem to only be worried that she'll start chowing down on one of the other guests and give them all away. There's no telling yet which one this guy might be. ]

( Not particularly, but I can handle it. )

[ She hopes. It says a lot about her current state of mind and how worn down she is that she actually admits to anything other than being perfectly fine, as per her usual answer. When she realizes what she's actually said, she adds with a flimsy dose of firmness: ]

( I'll be fine. )

[perroquet]

[ There's the sensation of an uncomfortable twitch in a single brow. Her words pierce him clean through. ]

This is one of my compositions.

[ Informed with a flat tone, prideful of it. ]

[sistershoggoth]

[ She grins at him. ]

Needs more thrashing.

[ Just to be clear, she brings up the memory of that awesome alien band she saw on Shril. Big gross aliens making a shit ton of noise. ]

[perroquet]

Thrashing? I would never-

[ The sudden crashing sounds in Annie's memory quickly overpower the light orchestra playing in his. He's startled by it at first, jumping and fumbling to keep a hold of his cane- ]

This... this is... music?

[ As strange and loud and noisy as it is, he doesn't immediately dismiss it. Instead he leans into it, listening and picking it apart as his brain unconsciously absorbs it. ]

It... certainly has all the necessary components of music. I can... sort of discern the appeal.

[ Though he has no intention of adding thrashing of any sort to his work anytime soon. ]

[sistershoggoth]

[ For what it's worth, she's delighted with the noise of it all. Although who does that surprise. But her pleasure is warm, effortlessly pleasant. ]

Next time we're somewhere trashy, I'll show you some good music.

[otrazhenie]

[ Okay, so not from somewhere like Earth then. Or not her Earth, anyway. That's not something she'd expected, but perhaps she needs to stop assuming things like that. ]

Sorry. Vampires are... complicated. They're kind of humans who have died, but because of the way they died, they come back to life. We have to drink blood in order to not... die again.

[ Wow, does she suck at this. She's never met anyone before who didn't have a concept of vampires to draw on her explanation from. ]

[calhar]

[ The suspicion's quickly dropped in favor of pleasant surprise, the echo of familiarity and affection — for Birgitte, who isn't here, but who would've been just as quick to invite herself over and take his drink. He's had enough that he's slow to curb the stray thought. ]

Misato. [ Testing it out. They have strange names, half of them. No stranger than any other region back home, but certainly nothing like what he grew up with. ]

I've never worked hard a day in my life, save the ones my life depended on it. [ Which was quite a few days, actually. Does this mission qualify?? Feels like a lot of nothing so far. ] Surely you're not here for work.

[ he has never heard that phrase in his life, p.s., so have a very literal response. ]

[calhar]

I think you might've missed the point.

[ It's said a little dubiously. Mat tosses his robe onto the floor — it'll be in bad shape, later — and starts fussing with the sleeves of the shirt he's got underneath. Save for when he pauses to squint at Bellamy, anyway.

Mat's thoughts are almost aggressively laid back, focused entirely on food and drink and, as of tonight, saunas. It takes some genuine effort to guess at any other perspective, even with the benefit of the steady press of the mental link. ]

You mean for eavesdropping?

[ That's the practical and goal-minded approach, right? It's just another chance to brush elbows with locals and try to dig up the 'enemy', whatever that meant. ]

iii

[shri]

After all the racing is done - and she has well and truly recovered from her own strange moment with her abilities, is when she comes to call on Shepard - herself this time. Perhaps to follow up with a plan she might have, or just to see how the other woman has been keeping.

Stepping into the tent, her veils are still drawn, held careful in the way, the way she holds herself whenever there is a chance she might be dealing with an outsider. Lightly, the gold chains over her gloves fingers that are meant to be deliberately distracting displays of wealth. The embroidered blue and red set with gold to framed edges in wide images of lotuses - flashy and quick work.

Though in truth, she didn't know quite what she was expecting when she went looking for the other woman. The fierce flatness of all Shepard's words and actions finally given a face. Given a form outside of that deep ocean and broiling depths. Just a face, just another person's face and -

- something, she finds, she did not quite expect to see. Less to the notion of a carved loveliness of the statues of Lakshmi or Parvati. But the jut of a mountain range that ragged sat without repentance. Itself and unmake-ably so.

Lakshmi steps forward, the chime of bells at her ankles for it, her hand left in her own people's greeting in reply to the nod. The sweeping cup of her hand until her fingers hover above her brow.

"Commander."

[calhar]

[ He's got his own thoughts on that Earth thing, actually, though they aren't particularly relevant here. They're also half mad. Sort of like someone saying they need to drink blood to survive.

There's an instinctive flash of disgust, fear, the image of a strange man in a dark hood. Doubt, too, though it's hard to accuse her of lying when he can literally feel the authenticity of her words.

To die and live again. He's heard it before, though he sincerely hopes he won't have to drink flaming blood when he comes back; he'd rather stay dead. ]

And they die in bloody sunlight. Of course. [ He hasn't flinched back, but the way he's watching her is undeniably more careful. And because 'kind of' feels like an important qualifier— ] So you're not human?

[otrazhenie]

[ Elena tries not to take his reaction personally, she really does. Her description of vampires sounds like something out of horror movie, and it's true that a lot of them are, but not all of them. She's not like that, he just doesn't know her. But there's still that lingering bleedover of disgust and hatred from Lakshmi that permeates her own emotions, leaving Elena shrinking back into herself a bit, pushing more of the water in her mind between them. She's not quite pulled back enough into herself to settle on that ocean floor, but it probably won't be long now. ]

I was two weeks ago. [ It's a quiet admission, leaving unspoken the confirmation that, no, she's not human anymore. That fact doesn't hurt any less now than the day she turned. ]

We die in sunlight because of the magic that was used to create vampires a thousand years ago. It was a way for nature to balance our strength. [ It's taking thought and effort to say 'we' instead of 'they', but it's progress that she's managed this much. Damon would probably be a little proud if he knew. ]

waggles brows at

[cognitived]

[ To be fair, Clint just really has a bad habit of gathering up sad, trauma kids under his wing. It's like a sixth sense, or maybe, simply his own vaguely-inconvenient-in-the-moment-but-great-in-the-end superpower. The hunger settles, tacky against his tongue, even as she straightens and firms her answer and -- well, it's good enough. He's not going to lecture her. Either she knows her limits, or she doesn't, but she's gotta figure that shit out for herself. Instead, he nods a bit, understanding gleaming soft and silver in the threads of his mind. ]

( Wasn't doubtin' it, just checking in. )

[ And he was, really. Clint...knows of her, through Sam. But he's never truly reached out. If she's testing herself among these crowds though, he doesn't have an issue with being her back up. So, an offering. ]

( If you don't mind company, I was hoping to scope out some of the crowds and it'll be easier with another. )

[otrazhenie]

[ It's a relief to feel that understanding from him, when she knows it could have just as easily been a protest. Honestly, she's probably earned all these people questioning her control and whether she has the handle on things that she claims to. But he doesn't do that and she's grateful, so much so that she doesn't hesitate to accept that offer, even as she realizes it's likely fueled by his wanting to keep an eye on her. ]

( That sounds nice actually, thank you. )

[ Elena has been acutely aware of how few of the Nest she has personal connections to, and that, along with everything else, has been wearing away at her. ]

[cognitived]

[ A lifetime as a spy and assassin maybe comes in handy here? He's used to letting people figure their own shit out, on their own time and in their own way. Doesn't always work, but hell, it's not like Clint'll let her crash and burn while he's here with her. There's a nod, the edge of his mind easy-going in the face of her gratefulness and realization. ]

( No problem. ) [ The impression of a grin. ] ( Lead the way and I'll follow. )

[ As a "guard" he means, easily settling to the right and slightly behind her. Clint's attention splits a bit, keeping an absent attention on anything interesting that might be happening near by. ]

( I'm Clint, by the way. )

[otrazhenie]

[ This game of role-playing has become almost second-nature by now, Elena used to walking with Damon or Shiro in this way. To the rest of the revelers, she's a noble from that strangely secretive society, so of course a guard would be at her side. None of them will know she's just meeting this one for the first time as they make their way slowly around the periphery of the crowd. ]

( I'm Elena. But I bet you knew that already. You're one of Sam's friends, aren't you? )

[ She doesn't know much of anything about Clint beyond a few facts gathered during her conversations with Sam, but his lack of utter disgust at her hunger is a huge point in his favor. If only she could meet more people like that. ]

[calhar]

[ He can feel the withdrawal, incomplete as it is. There's a flush of guilt and shame in response. Mat doesn't act on it, though he's starting to realize how little that means when people can see inside his head. He's too used to brushing things off to change the habit now.

But two weeks is nothing, and that at least earns some straightforward and indignant sympathy. He nearly starts in with twenty questions — she'll likely feel it, the grim curiosity — then haltingly settles on one. ] How much blood?

[otrazhenie]

[ She notices his emotional reaction, but it falls flat of doing much to soothe the damage done. Not that she has any inclination that was the purpose of it, of course. It's easier all in all to focus on that question, to hold onto the curiosity she feels from him, and provide him with the answers he's looking for. ]

I don't have to kill people, if that's what you're asking. [ Maybe it is, but maybe it isn't. The latter is why she continues. ] I don't need much, not enough to really hurt someone with the loss.

[ After a moment's pause, she adds: ] You can ask other questions if you want. We're all connected, you might as well know about what I am.

[cognitived]

[ Clint's well established himself, the mute guard that follows at Sam's heels like a loyal dog. Considering their roles' close relationship, it should be no surprise to see him with Elena either. If anybody marks it anyway -- guards are easily looked over, seemingly disabled ones even more.

But, well, there's no faking the well of fondness that leaps up at Sam. Clint smiles, though the veil hides it and his silence steals it away. Or would, if their minds weren't linked. ]

( Guilty as charged. )

[ He doesn't know...that much about her, really. Sam's good about privacy, after all. But Clint knows enough, and he knows just how highly Sam thinks of Elena. That's enough for him. ]

( Not that Sam isn't friends with most of the Nest. )

[wille]

[ The Meradan are truly her people, which makes it that much easier to play the role of a discontented Carbauschian wishing she were born to another world and another race of people entirely. Better to play along to one's strengths than pretend, and better to give half-truths than entire lies. She lets out a laugh, pleased and proud, and turns to her companions as if to say, see what high regard they have for me?

Then, to Ilya Mor she offers yet another bow, albeit brief compared to the last time. ]

No scarf this time, but I don't think you'll be disappointed.

[ She gestures to Lakshmi and Rust in turn. ]

My friends have even bigger gifts to offer.

[wille]

[ It's uncanny, the speed by which Misato submits her allegiance and near unquestioning trust to those she deems worthy based on nothing but intuition and first impressions. Prince is one such, and Cathaway a close second. It is an easier way to life, this loyalty to the ones in power. It would be too difficult to work for those she despises, and she lacks the faculty to juggle many masters.

Even so, her answer is far from terse, carrying with it the generosity of allowing others their own beliefs. ]

He might have his reasons for not calling it a war.

[ Her task at NERV was never about fighting a war no matter how it seemed to resemble one. When one's opponent is one's own self, one's own brothers, the lines are less clear. ]

I keep thinking this enemy of ours is probably more similar to us than we'd like them to be.

[deployed]

[ Bellamy's expression turns briefly incredulous, though it shouldn't be surprising that Seviilia has racked up more than one kill. His own struggle to corner a single target colors his entire reaction before he can contain himself. ]

I didn't think I was going to hit any targets.

[ He may as well be honest. Bellamy has no illusions about his own chances. He's not as adept on the Elin as most people who entered this competition, even with secondhand skill slipping along the lines of the Nest-bonds. ]

Does hunting here give you...?

[ Satisfaction? Bellamy's at a loss about describing what happens when Seviilia eats. ]

[deployed]

Everyone needs other people.

[ The words are infused with conviction, and supplanted with a rush of faces: Miller tossing him a gun, Harper and Monty side by side in the Rover, Raven's sharp smile from the front seat, Clarke in front of him on the beach, Murphy's dirt-smeared face lit up in the dark. (Ghosting at the edges, Monroe's dying gasps.) His people. His team. They had survived everything together. ]

You have us now. We're your team, Asuka. That means we share the failure and the victories. And I don't know about you, but I'm not planning on failing down here.

[ Victory isn't quite the right word. This isn't like any war he'd ever fought in. The victories are almost hollow; there's more relief at surviving than exhilaration over their ill-defined progress. It's hard to be satisfied in any lasting way.

Maybe that would change if they ever confronted their enemy. Right now, it feels more like chasing ghosts from planet to planet. ]

[deployed]

[ Connecting with Mat's mind too firmly drags up a wealth of uncomfortable sensations. Bellamy skims along the surface briefly, catching up the considerations of saunas and feasting before the contact recedes. ]

Yes.

[ But there were other people who were doing better at that than Bellamy. ]

Or gossiping. Making friends.

[ Bellamy's tone has gone a little flat. He hasn't been enjoying much of his time playing at courtier. It's hard to define progress, or if they're even trying the right strategy anymore. This mission is harder for him than Concordia had been. At least there, blending in hadn't been such a chore. ]

You know, gaining influence among our fellow travelers.

day 017 / closed to kaji.

[deployed]

[ There are no events today.

They've been left to their own devices, which means Bellamy has taken the time to stay in the tent. It's mid-morning, and eventually he'll pull on his robes to join Murphy or Lexa and Clarke as they circulate through the crowd, but for the moment he's content to set his veils aside and review the information on his tablet again. Company isn't unwelcome, but he wasn't expecting Kaji to seek him out. He can't help but eye the tent opening for Misato, but Kaji has apparently come alone. ]

Already tired of flirting on our day off?

[ It's not really a day off. Bellamy doesn't know what today is, apart from a time to collect themselves before the final leg of the competition. ]