[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. :(

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((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

[otrazhenie]

[ Of course he wouldn't. Come on, Elena. ]

It's kind of like a play, but it's been... recorded, so it can be watched again and again. Like a memory being replayed in your mind, but one that can be shared with other people.

[ Explaining a movie to someone who isn't familiar with her version of modern technology is one thing. Explaining it to someone like that who is also blind? Help. ]

This particular movie was based on an old fairy tale, and it was made for children. Well, for families to watch together. I used to watch it with my mom, and my dad would always come in to dance with me during the scene with this song.

[perroquet]

( Yes, it is the same with sound, although... not at all. )

[ It isn't a bad comparison. Naturally things can sound distant to him, and perhaps that makes them seem smaller, but the information being fed to his mind here is entirely different. He wants to reach out and touch what she shows to get a better understanding in a way he's comfortable, but can't.

He presses a hand to his eyes under his hood, opening and closing them to the relative darkness there, though some light is filtered through. In that way he gives Elena a sense of what he can see - light, in a fuzzy, grey-ish blur from behind the safety of his veils of dark lenses. Without those, it would burn. ]

( Ah, I'm sorry. It's a bit overwhelming. )

[perroquet]

[ He continues to eat from the plate she brought, balanced on him as he listens between bites of bread and dip and fruit. ]

Oh! Yes, I know of plays. Plays and operas. I wrote music for some when I was younger. Or rather, I had an assistant to write it.

[ He's sounding a little more energetic. The idea of a recorded play is lovely to him, even if he doesn't fully comprehend it. One made for children sounds even better. There are child performers - he would know, having been one - but he's never heard of children taking part in an audience. Going to the opera house or to hear a symphony is considered a pastime for adults, and rich ones at that.

That Elena could experience that sort of art at a young age surrounded by a loving family makes him very happy indeed. ]

That's wonderful. Let's hear it, then.

[otrazhenie]

[ Plays and operas. She'd never been to an opera before, and most of the plays she'd seen were school productions. Small town Virginia life might be filled with parties, but that's about as far as their cultural scene went; maybe that's why the school always went all out for their events.

Shifting a little against the pillow, Elena lets herself fall into the memory of the song, the opening violin and piano blending together perfectly in her mind as she shares the notes with Gil. Tale as old as time, true as it can be... The words follow not long after, accompanied by the sensation of standing on someone's shoes, of being twirled around at the crescendo, of being happy. But by the end of it, she isn't able to keep away the ever-present grief at the loss of her parents, though she tries to pull it all back as much as possible so it doesn't overwhelm him. He doesn't need to be burdened with all of that. ]

[perroquet]

[ Just like before, his mind latches onto the shared memory easily, absorbing it into his own note for note as long as the music continues. While the previous song was nice, he finds this one beautiful and almost familiar in that it's also a story. That it isn't shared as a distraction but given out of love makes it more special, though the sensations that come with it are less familiar to him. Being small and happy and surrounded by adults who love her - it's wonderful, but any sort of relation to it is missing from Gildor's set of experiences.

Dancing though - he knows how to dance. Badly, but there were some attempts to teach him, and some of those attempts are remembered. He feels her elation dipping into grief as the song fades to an end, and though he'd like to listen all the way through, the notes conveniently end in the same place they started. So his mind begins to replay it over again, louder and with a few added flourishes of his own. The piano is removed, as are the lyrics, replaced by a cello and three violins. A proper string quartet for a proper dance.

He sits up, pops the last piece of bread in his mouth, chews, swallows, and dusts off his hands. ]

Come here now, none of that tonight.

[ Before Elena can object, he's clumsily standing with both her hands in his. He's an ungraceful lead and he keeps his hands to her arms, but soon he's whisking her about the cots and kicking pillows out of the way. ]

[otrazhenie]

( It's okay, we can take a break. I can show you more later if you're up for it, or save it for another time. I think you're gonna be stuck with me for a while. )

[ It's all said with playful affection as she carefully begins to separate their minds, easing him out of her own but not severing that connection. She likes Gildor, and it's nice to have him be close, both physically and mentally. ]

wrap this y/n?

[perroquet]

( Thank you. Yes, perhaps we can start again later, with something simpler. )

[ Preferably, with something he can hold. He has a few ideas, but at the risk of causing a deeper headache, he saves them. ]

( That I could be so lucky to be stuck with you for a while, Miss Gilbert. That I could be so lucky. )

[ There's a tinge of doubt in that thought, but it's still a warm one. There's a firm underlying belief proven correct time and again that nothing, and no one, lasts forever. Not in his life. Though rather than letting that idea upset him, he simply sips his tea and cherishes Elena's presence beside him all the more. Even if she says nothing and eases off their mental connection, he is content to spend the rest of the afternoon here, 'watching' the competition below. ]

[shiro2hero]

[Gratitude floods across this link of theirs. This thing forged out of the struggle to be better than what they were made into. Grateful to her for this, for understanding without saying anything. He stays sitting where he had been, scrubbing at his mouth once she leaves.]

[Trying not to let her see him do it.]

[Trying not to leave traces of red on his face.]

[It's mostly gone by the time she gets back. Mostly. If only because scrubbing at it means smearing it more than actually getting it off. He'd been too busy doing so to really notice anything at all in his hand. So when she returns, asks. When she holds out the offering, he's surprised when his arm moves without pain.]

[The half smile for her is a real one, this time.]

Good enough to give Sam his splint back. [A pause, before, more quietly:] How's yours?

[How is her arm, her cut. She was the one actively ... and his mind aborts the thought before it's formed.]

[otrazhenie]

[ There were certainly those who had chosen to become vampires for power - her birth mother was a prime example of that. Elena never wanted any of this, though. What's the point of living forever when your loved ones will grow old and die without you? Sure, some would then argue that you should just turn them too, but... It's a neverending cycle of pain. Just look at what happened with Damon and Stefan. ]

A lot of vampires? I think so. It's hard to tell, the ones I know mostly keep to themselves or stay in small groups.

[ There isn't really a family or loyalty structure among vampires in her world, nothing to tie them all together. It's sad in a way, but at the same time she's grateful that things aren't even more complicated than they already are. If she'd ended up with some strange bond to Damon because of his blood being what turned her, things would be so incredibly awkward and difficult right now between them. ]

[otrazhenie]

[ If she'd seen him scrubbing at the blood, she would have simply offered to help. Goodness knows she'd done it herself enough times. Blood isn't water, it's thick and sticky and stains everything it touches. But all she sees are the faint traces of his attempt, though at the moment she's more concerned with seeing the proof of their efforts.

That smile isn't a bad reward, either. She hopes she can see it more often. ]

It's fine, see?

[ She tugs off her glove again and pulls up her sleeve. There's a slight smear of red from the blood, but beneath it her skin has healed perfectly. It's not even tender. ]

[shiro2hero]

Good.

[If she says it's fine, he believes her. Why would she say anything else? She's not like him, who says things are fine to brush it all off. So he nods.]

I... I don't know how to really thank you.

[Aside from just saying so. Which doesn't feel like it's enough. Not under these circumstances.]

[otrazhenie]

[ It's completely unexpected, and exactly what she needs. Dancing is something in Elena's soul, it's seen her through milestones in her life, through good and bad times, the connection formed with a partner one that she's always cherished. That's no different now as she follows Gildor's lead, letting herself be pulled into standing and twirled around the makeshift dance floor. After a few turns, she's even smiling, and a surprised laugh bubbles out of her at the first few kicks to the unfortunate pillows.

That laugh only grows when one of those pillows trips her up and threatens to send her sprawling onto a pile of them. Even as a vampire, she has her clumsy moments. ]

[perroquet]

[ Not clumsier than him, because while he is trying, he isn't a natural or practiced dancer like Elena. But Gildor isn't aiming for perfection, so he leans into it. Sends another pillow flying halfway across the tent, then twirls under her arm once, twice, three overly exaggerated turns. It's hardly fitting to the lovely music, but if there's a disgruntled teacher's voice telling him to be more mindful of his movements, it's drowned out in the thrill of knowing a new favorite song.

He isn't satisfied until he hears her laugh. Only then is it safe to slow it down, but before he can there's a pillow he missed tripping her and then him up and sending them toppling to one side.

At least it's a somewhat soft landing, and he finally laughs as well. It's a moment before he recovers and pushes himself up, smiling but recomposing himself quickly and catching his breath. ]

Oh my, I almost felt sixty again! Next time we'll have to clear the dance floor first.

[otrazhenie]

[ Perfection doesn't have to be practiced. It can be unruly and wild, sporadic and unplanned, a singular moment to forever hold close in their hearts. That's what this is for Elena, a bright spot in the darkness draped around her world now, and it's all thanks to her wonderful broodmate, someone she's been thrown together with who's accepted her the way she has him.

She stays where she's landed on the messy pile of pillows, stretching her arms over her head like a cat before relaxing languidly. There's a sense of peace and happiness settling within her as she looks over at Gil, a smile very firmly in place. ]

I don't know, you kicking them all over the place was pretty fun to watch.

[ Yes, she is teasing you a little, Gil. ]

[perroquet]

Oh yes, though I imagine that might upset a few of the others when they return. Ah well.

[ Having a host or two cross with him over a few messy cots is a cheap price to pay for dragging his broodmate out of a moment of grief. Dragged quite literally, but he'd do it again as long as she agreed to it. ]

Next time, I'll follow your lead.

[ He smooths out wild tangles in his hair that came loose in the fall with his hands, then moves to untie the sashes at his waist, intending to make himself comfortable. That burst of energy will be his last of the night if he can help it. He's still tired and needs rest, though the red irritation on his neck has nearly faded already. ]

[shri]

"Streets. I'll take an open field any day." Something she hasn't quite clicked isn't common anymore - pitched fields, the open roar of canons and scream of horses. An image that flickers in her mind: the racing line of horses and elephants, the boom-thud of heavy artillery. The pitch of an animal beneath her.

She blinks, picks out a thread, and carries on. "Your turn."

[aluminumandash]

I do apologize. [ Rust says to their host. Smooth, practiced, no trace of sincerity. He shifts a hand atop Lakshmi's, thumb tracing lazy circles. ]

Ah, I shouldn't be telling you this—and I'm scarcely an expert on the subject—but traditional Carbauschian custom holds that anything said in front of more than one person [ a glance at Ilya Mor's retinue ] is performance, it's the presentation of, let's say, a composite self. Exaggerated. Compromised.

Only in private can we be our authentic selves. [ A delicate pause, a lingering look at Lakshmi. ] Of course I don't believe in such things, but— [ He adjusts one of her scarves. ] She's very devout.

As for a price, I'll be honest with you. [ Rust leans fractionally forward. The hand atop Lakshmi's goes still. ] We need to know you're gonna be dealing with us alone. No other envoys, no other Carbauschians. Has anyone approached you?

[earthborn]

"Oh no-no-no, go back. All urban warfare? You're kidding," Shepard's ingredulity is unfeigned. How can you hate what must comprise... "Shit, I can count the number of open fields I've had on my fingers. And that's my whole career."

Not a lot of open space in space-- at least not that you want to be fighting in. Most encounters involve what amounts to tunnels, at best large rooms. Almost any enemy will refust to engage you in an open space when that space has almost nothing in it, atmosphere included.

"That's crazy."

[calhar]

But that's back in your world, isn't it? What are the odds another bloody planet's got the same sort of— [ He stumbles a bit on the right word. Creature crosses his mind, which isn't meant to be uncharitable. ] Folk.

[ Talking about different worlds isn't as odd as it should be. 'Planet' is still a bit new, but he's a quick learner; quicker when he's sharing brainspace with people who have a broader perspective.

If the idea of 'a lot' of vampires showing up here bothers him, it doesn't look it. He splits his focus slightly, fussing at the sleeves of his shirt. Checking the daggers he's got hidden near his wrists, falling into idle routine. ] We've got Shadowspawn. You'd be hard pressed to say they'd ever been human, though— I'd never last in a conversation with one, for starters. I've never heard of any of them living off of blood, though I'm sure the flaming bastards would drink it for fun of it.

[shri]

She starts to laugh, their differences and similarities could not be more pronounced. "I had that in a series of a few months, Commander. Outside of the breaking of siege, all war is done in such a form."

Lakshmi shakes her head - "I rode the cavalry line, granted, so I must acknowledge my own preference to that. I do not think you would enjoy that much either." Her eyes lift, brief and bemused, teasing lightly. "But fighting in streets, I only knew of it in the fall of cities themselves to how I was taught my forms. For many years... it was considered dishonorable. I only began waging campaigns in them... once I became aware it was the only place I could fight what was happening."

A memory to flesh out just what she means, the streets of London, not beautiful clean areas of royal family residence: but the mishappen walls of Whitechapel, with the spider like metal railways that were screeching over it. How hard it could be to see in the thick mist - worse still in the dense smoke left over from the coal burning in many homes. The stench of shit and mud that wafts up from broken underfoot cobble streets that never seemed to dry from their damp. When you could never be sure what was about to come lunging out of the corner and lunge it does.

She wrinkles her nose. "So many civilians underfoot? Preserve me from it."

[otrazhenie]

[ She is like him, though. Even if it wasn't fine, she'd be sorely tempted to say it was so as not to worry him. That's who she is, how she's survived this past year. But... at least with Shiro, it would only be a temptation, and she would make the decision to tell him the truth. He's one of the few people who would get that from her. ]

You don't have to thank me, Shiro. I wanted to help you, and it was easy for me to do it. It means a lot that you let me help you at all.

[ He can't possibly understand just how much it means to her, and how far it will go toward helping her come to terms with what she is now. ]

[shiro2hero]

To be honest with you... I don't know if I could have gone through with it if it didn't mean so much to you.

[Because as much as he can tell himself it's an alien thing, it's an alien skill, or ability or even just what the symbiote has done to her...]

[Blood is blood. It had the same taste. The same sense in your mouth. He's grateful to her, more than he can say -- and she'll probably be able to sense it.]

So yeah. Thank you.