[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

( the chase: for lexa, asuka and lakshmi )

[wille]

[ Two days are barely enough to get the hang of the spears and slings and weights on top of still learning the Elin's capricious ways while recovering from the first trial. Muscle memory doesn't grow as fast as logical conclusions fall into place.

Misato herself is visibly clumsy on her ride, focused and determined as she is, yet always on the verge of stumbling off entirely. What an apt metaphor for life. Even so, when the sign is given and the parties take off, so does she, keeping up with the hunters gradually dispersing across the field while allowing the distance between her and the herd of Gryer to widen, for now. Time spent on formulating a plan before one strikes, even in a race against time, isn't wasted. ]

I'm going in to break up the herd!

[ Shouted out loud for the benefit of the handful of Rabadoceans unfortunate enough to be assigned to their team. It is a statement, yes, but contains within it the question of who's with me? even as she's already egging her Elin onward to catch up to their targets. ]

( Lexa, Rani, you have better aim than I do. ) [ A belated and paltry explanation for her risk-taking. ] ( Asuka, you can come with me. )

[adamance]

[If Lexa had not been called to Polis, she knows that half of her life would have been spent doing this: hunting, ensuring that meat made it back to her village, and also ensuring that traps were laid out when necessary. Every aspect of the training here is something that comes naturally to her. The only hiccup happens to be the Elins themselves, but she's taken to it like she took to everything growing up.

When Misato moves, there's a sense of discomfort that twists inside of her. It's not that she disrespects Misato's mind, but her actions are another thing altogether. Maybe it's still a product of that night when Misato demanded answers from Murphy, or maybe it's just a matter of Lexa knowing that she would do things differently.

As it is, she shouts a follow-up command to the others:]

Disperse them, but do not let them go far. Head them off if you can, and lay traps in their presumed path. Chaos can't be our only tool here.

[And then, to the other Hosts:]

( We are smarter than what we hunt. Don't get overwhelmed. ) [If only she could pass on her experience in hunting easily, but some part of Lexa feels uncomfortable at the notion of sharing so much of herself. Plus, it's not the best time, though her mind is surprisingly open enough to share her instincts and her insights, to let them borrow what they can, even if it's not everything.]

Gildor Helyanwe | OTA

[perroquet]

❚❚❚❚❚ A. EXCHANGING RECIPES

[ Somehow Gildor finds himself sitting in the higher sections of the audience, where dignitaries of every envoy view the chase below through tiny binoculars and have servants bring wine to their tables. This isn't at all as exciting as the last round of events, where he could hear the beat and rush of mechanical hooves and feel the vibrating energy of the crowd. Today it's just tea and scones and the occasional cheer from the audience whenever something happens. Gildor can't tell what. Normally such a thing wouldn't bother him, but right now it's making him bubble over with anxiety. ]

(Can anyone tell me what's happening below? I am up in the dignitaries' box, and the most exciting thing any of them are talking about is a recipe for some sort of mashed potato.)

❚❚❚❚❚ B. ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

[ Again Gildor finds himself alone - surrounded by food, servants, and merry diners in the feast tent, but alone and holding a glass. If it weren't for the robes covering his every feature, his distress over it would be obvious. He just wanted to finish a modest dinner, but before he could leave a well-meaning servant slipped the drink into his hand and he's become awkwardly frozen by it. The liquor inside is the same grassy-smelling stuff that has been enticing him every night with another event, and now it's nearly in his face. For once he's thankful for the veil, but it isn't enough. ]

(Someone come take this from me before I do something I will most certainly regret. Please.)

[ The last word is more pleading than the rest of his clipped thoughts. More than anything, he's distressed - knuckles white under the gloves, the greenish liquid inside the cup shaking. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ C. WILDCARD

Got an idea for something with Gildor? Hit me in my PM's, or on plurk! He's mostly eavesdropping on the envoys in the audience, but available for pretty much any CR!

b.

[deployed]

[ Thankfully, Bellamy had been standing a few feet away, marking Lexa and Murphy as they moved through the crowd. He's closed enough to smoothly lift the cup from Gildor's hand before he has to ask a second time. The tremors were noticeable, though Bellamy isn't sure they're noticeable to him because of the link between himself and Gildor or not. ]

( It's okay. )

[ The comfort feels insufficient when measured against what Bellamy had sensed from Gildor's mind. ]

( Is it poisoned? )

WILDCARD!

[wille]

[ Up until the last few minutes leading up to the race, Misato can be found training with the kind of focus that should be reserved for a battle to the death, and not a fabricated hunt for toy buffalos using glorified paint balls.

This time she is trying her hand at using the ornate Sarvat, fitting it with one of the dulled training spears and aiming it at a rock formation some distance away. She knows how to wield it, that much is clear, and the spear flies straight toward her target, but estimating the bounciness of alien steel against Hyrypian stones is another matter altogether. As soon as the blade makes contact with the rock, it bounces off into the air like a runaway albatross before gravity pulls it back down, down toward the only host that wouldn't be able to see it coming.

She takes off toward him in the impossible hope of pushing him out of danger, knowing full well that she won't make it, but her dread precedes her, surging across the field like a deafening car alarm. ]

Look out!

WILDCARD

[blooded]

❰ damon doesn't have a lot of time prior to his bit in the festivities — he's not so much into races or group efforts, but he can't deny the appeal of a hunt — but there's something he's been meaning to do. elena mentioned that she has new broodmates, and one even sought her out. one who was kind, who promised not to attack her even though she's undead. it'd be nice if it wasn't a ruse, but he can't be sure. not until he meets the man himself.

damon searches gildor out, london perched on his shoulder, spear in hand, and laments the fact that gildor is blind — the effect of being approached by a veiled vampire with a six-eyed raven and a spear in hand is somewhat lessened if you can't see it.

You share a brood with the vampire, don't you?

damon has shields good enough to keep his intentions masked from gildor, but the thread of interest and wariness is clear in the question. ❱

Wildcard!

[greentech]

( You should learn how to ride. )

[ Somehow, Pidge thinks this is a good idea. She's not competing in any of the events - just watching and maybe giving things a little nudge here and there with her own particular set of skills - and that means she has free time on her hands. Time she can use to practice her own riding abilities and maybe convince her new (blind) friend to do something sort of stupid. ]

( It's not that hard once you get the hang of it. )

[ She can also see. ]

>> a

[otrazhenie]

( How did you end up there? )

[ There's a hint of amusement in the words, because of all the people to be stuck up there, it's the most unfortunate for Gildor. Still, he's her broodmate, so even if it wasn't in her personal nature to do whatever she can to help him, the symbiote certainly edges her toward it. She's not exactly the sports commentator type, though, so giving a running commentary of the various rounds of competition might not be all that exciting, but...

There might be another way. ]

B IS FOR BOOZE

[aluminumandash]

Allow me. [ Rust grips him by the arm, between shoulder and elbow—friendly to an outsider's eye, ready to turn forceful. Splitting the difference between threat and reassurance. He takes the glass in his free hand.

For an instant he wants to toss it back, recognizes the impulse as part his—solve the problem—part Gildor's. Calculation converges with drummed-in awareness: what's the risk, how's my cover.

A vertiginous memory, Marty shoving a cup of coffee in his hand, acting like they were hatching a plan together. Rust's grip eases. He makes a conscious effort to choke back his disdain. ] ( Time to go. )

B

[sistershoggoth]

[ Ah goddamn it. Why's the dumb not-elf gotta do this shit to her? No one has ever paid any attention when she's been flipping out, hell, a lot of their fucking 'Nest' insists on drinking anyway, spreading that giddy stink on to her. She's woken up after their benders dry in the mouth, shivering with want. She'd lost her shit at Misato after one of her drinking sprees, but like that bitch cared.

But just because no one pays attention to her pain doesn't mean she has to do the same. She's better than that. Or is she. Whatever. Fuck everything. He doesn't need to ask to leave, she takes the drink out of his hand and just pulls until they're far away from the lights and the gatherings. She's been spending a lot of time at this distance, hiding from the merriment because she knows exactly what will happen to her if she for one second thinks maybe it'll be ok to join in on the party. ]

You want a cigarette?

OTA

[redheadcarrier]

A. Hail the conquering hero?

[ Asuka's solo event had not gone nearly as well as she would have liked. She'd been prepared to be able to peg targets. She was good at that - what she hadn't been prepared for was the stalking and hunting part. She grew up in a city and she'd never actually gone hunting - so she'd blundered through on her Elin, chasing after her targets with increasing frustration. She'd shrugged off attempts to help. She needed a solo win - and she'd come up empty. Worse, she'd taken a tumble off of her Elin in the process and she's fairly sure she's going to bruise (or worse). She's carefully picking her way back through the tents, head down, unseen features creased in a frown.

The buzz and emotional high of the last few days has worn off and now she's back to feeling isolated. Funny what a few bad moments can do to you. She elbows past someone before realizing it's another Host. She pauses for half a moment before she speaks, voice sour and reluctant. ]

...Sorry.

[ Which is better then it might have been. At least she's not yelling. ]

...did you see the last event? [ Maybe her humiliation wasn't spotted by other members of the Nest. ]

B. Wildcard

[ You know the drill. ]

wildcard

[ryohji]

[ there was nothing to gain and nothing to lose from a little check-up, he'd told himself. anything less would be callous of him, he'd told himself. ikari's arrival had surely psyched her for the worse, he'd told himself. the ball was in her court to dismiss him at any time, he'd told himself.

she was best left alone, his better sense had replied. the robbers who'd ransacked her life were those very presumptions of adults who thought they knew better, his better sense had replied. a group to which he belonged, his better sense had replied. after this, he was going to hell, his better sense had replied.

and yet here he stands, only moments away from having a conversation with asuka soryu, for reasons as yet unknown. he catches her at the camp enclosure. it is not so much her height but her posture, spine perpendicular to the ground, those stubborn shoulders, that tip him off. ]

You've been really putting yourself out there, Asuka. [ so this is how a young girl will interpret his challenge, forget or die already. it is no marked departure from her coping mechanisms from before. any changes to her tried and untrue routine were perfunctory, cosmetic alterations that didn't even pretend to interrogate the dissatisfaction in her heart. kaji doesn't understand. it wasn't as if she had a lover that kept her from reprieve. her life was truly her own, no strings attached, her own to consummate.

he guesses, that's part of the problem. ] How's it finding you?

[sistershoggoth]

[ She hates everything about Asuka's life and drives. Probably because there's nothing real different in her own past. Child soldier, must succeed at all things. She's silent for a long moment. She doesn't want to give the girl some useless fucking platitude about how at least she'd tried, but that is how she feels. They're doing their best to keep this mission running, and it wouldn't look good if none of them gave it a shot. ]

I flubbed my riding event too.

[ A shrug. ]

What can you do? Some people spend their whole lives mastering this shit, and we got a couple days.

[deployed]

I didn't end up seeing much from the middle of it.

[ The prickly emotion Asuka radiates don't strike Bellamy as particularly out of the ordinary. Asuka is combative. Bellamy's accepted this and prepared to roll with it; he'd handled Jasper nearly the same way. He's had practice. ]

Are you okay?

[ He hadn't heard anything about injuries, but that doesn't remove the possibility. And it's hard to see for sure with the robes covering every inch of skin. It'd served Bellamy well after using his powers before the last race, but the drawbacks he'd considered when Rhan had first showed them the robes persisted. Keeping their cover was still an inconvenience. ]

[huntsmachines]

01. Training - Closed to Asuka & Rust - Separate threads are fine

[ Aloy is beginning to enjoy herself now. They're doing things she's used to, things she's done for her whole life. She stands next to her Elin, hefting the spears she's been giving, testing their balance, judging how far they'll need to go. Also learning how to throw them swathed in her robes. There's a joy humming in her chest that helps to keep her focused and happy and not thinking about what else there is to come.

She knows of course there are others who aren't as adept at this and so she'd offered, sending out an open offer to anyone who wanted to learn to handle a spear and how to stalk, to ride, to hunt. Though she felt that riding was well handled by now, the handling of a spear was not so simple. So she waits, resting and checking the balance of her weapons. ]


02 - Hail the conquering heros - Open

[ After the long day's hunt, Aloy is deliciously sore in a way that makes her smile. Even her injured leg isn't bothering her as much thanks to attentions from Adra and the distraction from a day spent mounted and hunting. She finds her hands full of good food and drink, though she only sips at the liquor. No need to be drunk, right? It's not to her taste, anyways. Instead, she wanders with plate in hand, nibbling happily at her food and radiating confidence and happiness with her day. When she finds a familiar face, she sits down to greet them with a cheery burst of mental energy. ]

( What a day! Wasn't that hunt wonderful? )

[redheadcarrier]

[ Asuka knows how to hurl a spear and the riding she's figured out. But she's never hunted a day in her life. All of her food has come from supermarkets or restaurants and even if she knows in the abstract that someone has to go out and farm or hunt the food, she's never done anything like it. Combat doesn't really count, either. So she'd decided to get just a few pointers before she embarked on her competition. She was sure she'd do fine, in the end - she always did - but a bit of learning from Aloy wouldn't hurt.

She approaches in a swirl of skirts and robes, kicking up a bit of dust in her wake. ]

So, what are you going to show me today?

Seviilia | ota.

[miscreant]

HANGRY GAMES

[For this adventure, Seviilia opts to ride off on her own -- partially out of boredom, and partially to give her a chance to ride free. She'd already won the favor of the crowd in the last round, and she knows well enough that the win doesn't really matter.

She'll still put on a show. She's just going to take her time doing it. She'll also make it her business to interrupt others attempting their claim on the prize. From a distance, she flings a spear to murder a kill being chased by another host.]

Sorry -- was that your's?


AFTERMATH

[Meat and saunas -- two pleasures Seviilia would kill to indulge in. Unfortunately, being trapped under layers and layer of cloth made such things impossible. The meat wasn't quite rare enough to her tastes, and she couldn't find the idea of sitting still in full cloth enjoyable.

She can be seen hovering near one of the more royal of their hosts, or sizing up their given meal with some disappointment. Or, if you're lucky, you might find her hovering near the saunas, trying to absorb some of their warmth without being overtly obvious about it.

The preference for warmth is new -- something she's certain she must have obtained while being connected to the rest of the Nest.]

>> aftermath

[otrazhenie]

[ Elena misses the feeling of the sun on her skin. It's only been two weeks but it feels like an eternity, especially since that's what she's facing without a daylight ring. She'll always have to stay away from direct sunlight or be covered in heavy robes like they have been for this mission. It's... disheartening really, and she's tried her best not to think on it too much.

She might be able to pretend for just a little while if she could use the sauna. Virginia summers are humid, so the heat and moisture of the saunas might provide just a few moments of escape... if only she could use them. That longing keeps bringing her near the tents, though, and that's when she comes across someone else from the Nest, someone she hasn't yet met properly. Taking a deep steadying breath, she figures she might as well. ]

( I wish we could go inside and enjoy them. )

shiro | ota

[shiro2hero]

1) HUNGRY GAME
[It's not a team event, but by now, part of him is relishing the idea of being alone for a while. Just to get away from the constant frustration. As long as someone from the Nest wins, or places high, they come out of this on top, right?]

[Not to say he's going to go easy. Confident enough in his riding skills to go plunging into the canyon, the mist, letting his mount cut loose. Chasing the various robotic life forms.]

[To anyone else, his shields aren't up that strongly. Because while he's chasing their targets, there's only exhilaration.]

(This is ... this is fun!)

[Forgive him if he sounds surprised, elated, casting along the mental link to his fellow riders.]

(Bet you can't get that rabbit thing first!)

[After all, what's the worst that could happen out here?]


2) AFTERMATH
[... the worst that could happen is a fractured left arm, apparently.]

[His shields are clamped down hard to keep from broadcasting the injury to the entire Nest, but still. When he drags himself back into the camp after the hunt, he's clearly favoring it. And making a beeline for the tent he's been using. Dropping off whatever target he'd managed to grab.]

[Either stop him on the way, or find him in said tent, attempting to make an arm sling out of the pink robes Clint had foisted on him.]

[It's not that successful with just one hand. One hand, and a laser focus on keeping his shields intact. Safe to say he won't be joining in the festivities outside for a while.]


3) wildcard!
[Anything else you want to thread!]

2

[perroquet]

[ Gildor had gone back to the tents early with Bellamy, and though he'd been grateful for the help, he requested some time alone after a long and trying day. He's sitting and re-tuning his little alien instrument when he hears the tent flaps open, and feels tired footsteps reverberating through the carpeted ground. The other host makes no greeting, so he doesn't either - perhaps they wish for peace after a long day as well - but the subtler sound of strain catches his attention. Sharp breaths and frantic shuffling. ]

Is everything alright over there?

[ He's out of disguise, or at least his head and hands are, and though his head is turned towards Shiro his eyes remain closed. ]

aftermath / closed to rust.

[deployed]

[ All Noctis and Lakshmi's advice and instruction had kept Bellamy on his Elin. But it's clear, very clear, that he's not an adept. He's likely more useful in the individual event as a disruption than as an actual force to be reckoned with. It suits Bellamy fine. He's very aware of his limitations. The singular time he gets close to a target, he loses out to a hunter from another faction. Emerging from the canyon after, dusty, sweaty and exhausted. He'd have liked to wash his face and sample a few of the drinks, but the veils—

Just one more reason why this particular disguise is awful, basically.

He weaves through the crowd instead, envious of each person disappearing into the sauna. It's likely to early to retire to his own tent, but Bellamy's still entertaining the idea of it when he treads onto the robe of the Host in front of him. ]

Sorry.

[ It's echoed immediately between their minds. Bellamy latches onto Rust, false familiarity gained from Clarke prompting the reaction before Bellamy can circumvent it. ]

Sorry, [ He repeats, a little useless as his mind withdraws incrementally. ] I was paying more attention to the tents than the crowd.

[ Envious, wistful attention, but still not an excuse. ]

elena >> ota

[otrazhenie]

iii. the aftermath

[ Elena was only a spectator for the day's activities, enjoying the competitions and cheering on those she knew who participated. She'd actually had a bit of fun, surprisingly, enough to get her out of her own head for a few minutes now and then, allowing her to forget for a little while. Forget the constant disgust she feels from Lakshmi, the strangeness of the symbiote connection in her mind, the constant hunger gnawing away at her strength. Those brief moments of reprieve are miraculous and treasured.

It's impossible to forget any of it during the festivities after the challenges. Elena settles herself at one of the tables, sipping at the alcohol and hardly touching the provided food, everything paling in comparison to what she really wants. Blood. Her broodmates are bound to feel that profound craving, possibly even some of the others in the Nest as the night wears on and she leaves the table to mingle among the others.

The coppery tang of blood is on the back of her tongue as she breathes in the scent of those around her, hears it rushing beneath their skin, and as much as she wants to run from the crowd and seek solace away from temptation, she knows she has to stand her ground. It's better to learn how to be around others now than risk 'accidents' occurring later because she's too weak to resist the urge to feed on everything in sight. ]

[shiro2hero]

(Are you okay?)

[He's one to ask. He's the one who wrapped up a cracked arm in a spare disguised and carried on like nothing was even wrong. But he'd been worried about her. Since their first meeting, since this... thing... with Rani and Sam. It's hard not to notice her holding herself apart.]

[Or how she pushes away from the crowd.]

[Of course, he's going to follow. Keeping his own pain (physical, only physical now) under tight wraps.]

Shepard | OTA

[earthborn]

i. Infiltrator
Everyone loves a show. They're all looking to their gear, rushing around, or watching the competition for targets-- Out there, metal hoofbeats make thunder and sparks fly from glancing blows and true ones. In the camp, it's controlled chaos, all minds turned to the glories of competition and-- and Shepard, she knows her cue.

They won't catch the 'Enemy' out in conversation, not without knowing what they're looking for. But, like the datapads hidden in paper-bound books, whoever they are, they'll have discrepancies that are more material in nature. The problem, then, becomes finding them; there's a lot of people here, a lot of ground to cover, and very little time. Fortunately, she's not alone-- right?


ii. Engineer
Of course, any good crime needs an alibi, and what better alibi than to be publicly, obnoxiously, people-watching. Shepard sits, sipping at her water, to all appearances deep in some unknowable form of public meditation or prayer behind her robes and veil, but any with the wherewithal to know it can hear the running commentary.

( 'But Sara, how will I pay for the farm now that a diplomatic riding competition has taken my ability to walk? I will never again till the hard unforgiving soil of our homeland.'

'Love will see us through, Clem. We'll scrape by, somehow.' )

The Rabadocean in question limps by, injured in competition, but too proud, or too friendless, to be assisted on his way. The next stalks by, arms full of lumpy bundles and metallic cooking equipment.

( 'Oh no I overslept and now I'm late for cannibalism cooking class. If I'm the last one there, the chef might cook me instead!'

But she was not the last one to class, and they cooked Fred instead. His amputated foot was almost as delicious as his arm had been. )

A trio going the other direction, one of whom trips, briefly delaying the other two, before they leave him to push himself up out of the dust and catch up in his own time.

( Dammit, Fred. You'll never learn. )


iii. Soldier
She is the kind of person who travels light. Between necessity and regulation, it's always been so. If you were to look in on her, even when set up for habitation, her corner of the tent is just that-- a corner, compact, tidy from habit, and well-secured when not physically guarded. It takes a thief, after all, to know the true paranoia of thievery.

Shepard is, absolutely, a thief.

But right now she's a thief with her veil and gloves stripped off, laying back and watching something scroll past on her datapad-in-a-book, with a bulbous glass of something violently purple at her elbow. Maybe you want to leave well enough alone, or maybe you have a question, a curiosity, or are just looking for company. Regardless, Shepard will acknowledge your presence with a glance and a nod-- no reason to be rude, after all.


iv. Vanguard
wildcard, y'all

[blooded]

❰ 'Damnit, Sara, love won't put food on the table!'

damon comes to stand next to shepard, the mental impression of an amused grin left in her mind. people watching isn't his favourite thing, that would require an interest in people, but mocking, oh boy, he sure does love that. ❱

damon．▎ᴘʀᴇ-ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴅᴀʏ :016, ᴏᴛᴀ.

[blooded]

❰ it's been a long time since damon participated in a hunt on horseback — more than a century and a half, in fact, and never since he'd turned — but it's funny how some things just come back. like riding a bike, training on elinback yesterday brought everything back, even while the obvious differences were an adjustment — no horse he ever rode was made of metal, and even in 1864 they used guns, not spears. still, he's more than confident in his own abilities, enough so that he sought gildor out before the hunt rather than prepare.

it's just a few minutes until the hunt is supposed to begin, and damon is going over final checks of his equipment, testing the heft of the spear in his hand and how his elin reacts to his commands. this would be easier if he were on foot, hardly even a contest, but he's not allowed to stand out, and the added challenge should make it... fun. probably. at least he's definitely going to get something, which is maybe more than any of the other riders can guarantee. he's used to stalking and hunting his prey, which granted is usually rather taller and more human-shaped than any of the animals in the valley, but still. this is what he does. he's got this.

the prickle in the back of his mind that announces the approach of another host prompts damon to turn around, the sense of a smirk evident through the link even though no one can see his face.

I haven't gone on a real hunt in too long. Wiping the floor with the natives is going to be too easy. ❱

[otrazhenie]

[ Two weeks. That's how long Elena's been awake and living as a vampire and Host. It's been hard, harder than anything should ever be, each day dawning like a nightmare come to life. But through it all, Damon's been there for her, adding bursts of light to all the darkness she's shrouded in. So when he decided to participate in the hunt, she wracked her brain for something to do for him.

A handkerchief is folded inside her robes, tucked away for security and to hopefully hide the scent of the drops of blood at the center. It's not something she would ever have wanted for herself, but for Damon? It just seems like the right gesture. She doesn't have anything personal to give him as a token, a wish for his safe return, so all she can give him is a piece of herself. And with Damon... well, blood is everything, isn't it? For the both of them now.

Approaching with purpose, she smiles at his words, her amusement buoyed at the surface of her mind. That's so very him. ]

( You're awfully sure of yourself, Damon. )

mat cauthon | open!

[calhar]

II. PURSUIT (??)

[ Mat's distrustful of the creatures to start, but boredom and curiosity eventually take their toll. Training's uneventful, if slightly embarrassing; by the time they get to the events, he's idly considering names for the bizarre looking mount, though he can't be completely sure it's even the same one he had yesterday.

He doesn't hesitate to break off from the group as soon as they hit the canyons, and for a few paces he's keeping up the pretense of the hunt; then he sits back and pulls the Elin to a walk, letting the one he's trailing dart out of sight. The coral looks like bone up close and the mist's more creepy than it is exciting, but he's frankly more interested in sightseeing at the moment than winning. He draws the mount to a full stop, shakes one hand free of his heavy robes and bites off his glove, then reaches out to brush his fingers across an arm of coral jutting out into the path. Maybe it feels like bone, too.

If someone happens down the same winding path, hopefully they're watching out for a traffic jam. ]

III. AFTERMATH

[ Mat doesn't win. He does get booze and food as soon as the games are done with, though, which is better than any pointless title or medal. He's actually in better spirits than he's been in since first setting foot on the planet — might just be thanks to the booze, though.

He'll be easy to spot. Rather than dodging socializing altogether he seems fine with being in the middle of it, this time; praising the food, chatting up locals, making up stories about the hunt to keep them entertained, shamelessly flirting when the cues are right. He's hardly making a scene, but it'd be a stretch to call him particularly "mysterious" or "reclusive".

Later on, he can be found dragging the claustrophobic robes off his head as he ducks into a shared tent and out of open view. ] What do you reckon we're missing in those tents?

[ Jealous of the people who can actually use the sauna? Intensely. ]

WILDCARD

[ Interrupt wherever, run into him right before the hunt, right after, while he's putting moves on some local, when it's time to cut off his booze, etc. Training's also fine, he'd be mostly competent with the given weapons. ]

>> aftermath

[otrazhenie]

[ Elena herself has recently ducked into this tent as well, looking for somewhere to find a bit of solace and just breathe before settling in for the night in her usual spot. She's more settled now than she has been the entire night, Gildor's incredibly generous donation sating her hunger enough that it's easy to stuff the rest down into the depths of her mind and keep it from bleeding into the rest of the Nest. Looking up as Mat enters, she watches him remove the robes, her own top layers folded in her lap while she sits on a randomly chosen cot. ]

Warmth and more alcohol, probably.

[ She's a little bit jealous of them too. ]

[closed - day :016] rust, lakshmi, misato

[onemind]

The Meradan are good at this - at least, they certainly seem to be having considerable success spreading into every corner of the encampment. Even the most reserved Meradan is more outgoing than the most talkative Carpathan, which means it's easy to stumble across small clusters of them among the young minor Hyrypians or among assortments of minor envoys. Even the Meradan guard retinue seem to have no reservastions about fraternizing with the enemy - in the aftermath of the day's games, there are more than a Meradan recounting their exploits in the company of patient Descendants and cooly attentive Carpathans. To say they're integrating well is a stretch; rather, they're a particularly capable invasive species. Any individual seems welcome to wade into their conversation - so long as they're willing to put up with boisterous debate of course.

One such nest of Meradan has set up shop in one of the long meal tents. Swathed in their heavy cloaks and piles of fur again the cool evening air, a series of young officers in their high collared uniforms are cheerfully discussing the competition with a company of older Meradan who clearly either haven't been in the field or have already taken great pains to appear immaculate and well rested. It's not exactly a private meeting, but the impromptu gathering is easy enough to slide into the edge of. There are certainly other envoys doing just that - a matronly rabadocean from some minor moon is laughing politely with a brilliantly blue Meradan, and a pair of young Hyrypians are arguing gleefully with a match set of junior Meradan aides.

Significantly, there in the center of that gathering sit Captain Gris Syn and her partner, the ruddy Ilya Mor. They're quite the pair - she all faint shades of cobalt and he so brilliantly flush. Maybe that's the point (though in this, a rare moment in one another's company, they hardly seem miserable). Captain Syn is deep in conversation with an a young Meradan who seems mortified that her opinion is being asked by the Captain, but Ilya Mor's attention has wandered to--

"Ah! Do I get a scarf this time?"

It's so hard to tell Carbauschians apart. Is he being reductive, or does he really recognize some pattern of Misato's heavy clothes?

[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.

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. ]

[ryohji]

[ nocturnal, diurnal, crepuscular; if only there was a term for people most active during downtime. he's taken to observing people's comings and goings, a vestige from not too long ago, enough to know where to find bellamy among the jellyspread of hosts cast about the the encampment. past the thick flaps kaji peaks his head through, then his body follows. off goes the hood, this excessively gilded vessel, and then the boots. to bellamy's quip he bats not one eyelash in offense. yes, he deserved that. ]

The way a kid tires out a toy he's long outgrown.

[ cordial, taking it on the nose. bellamy's lingering gaze toward the tent flap would have bothered him more if kaji didn't understand precisely who he'd been expecting to trail after him - like the sun, misato's personality tended to draw smaller things into her orbit by association. each planet categorized firstly by its relative position in her galaxy.

he sits, once the hood is off. back to wall, arranging himself in such a way that bellamy's tablet is visible. more vestiges. ]

I spoke to Murphy. He tells me you all are acquainted, you and Clarke and Lexa.