station72 | [mission: hyrypia] then the holy paths we'll travel strew'd with rubies thick as gravel

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

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 )

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[ His hand gripped around the pillow, his nervous talking, none of it goes unnoticed as Elena leans in, hovering barely an inch over his skin. Just a moment of hesitation, giving him a chance to really sink into the music, and then she lets her face change as she prepares to feed. Her eyes change, her teeth lengthen, and she breathes in the scent of him -- human, and something else.

Prolonging this would be cruel, she realizes, and so she gives into instinct and presses her mouth to the skin of his neck, piercing the skin with her teeth so that blood wells up, and she drinks. One mouthful, two, one half of her mind concentrating on keeping the music going for him, on providing as much distraction and comfort as she can, while the other focuses on how much she's taking. It feels so good to feed, to taste that blood on her tongue, and it would be so easy to lose herself in it, but she refuses to give in. She has to keep Gil safe.

And that's why she pulls back before the song has even finished playing in her mind, already reaching into her robes for the cloths she'd brought to clean the small wound. ]

Thank you, Gil.

[ The pain of her teeth is sudden and startling, but he's anchored where he's sitting, Elena's hands steadying him. Gildor stays in place without much more than a wince, a sharp inhale, and a brief shudder. Just as quickly as the bite settles into his skin, she drinks - and he finds quick, satisfying relief in it. It's secondary relief, but it's nice. Or almost.

It would be nicer Elena allowed it to be. If she would just let herself give in and keep drinking. It's what is what his addiction-riddled system wants despite regard for his health. He won't allow himself to drink alcohol, but if he can feel satisfaction through her quenched blood thirst it might almost be as good...

Fortunately Elena's mind is still clearer than his in the moment. That, and the smell of his own blood quickly tempers any ill desires. It's not quite as repulsive as foreign blood, or battlefield wounds and butcheries, but it's enough to make him cover his nose and mouth tightly and hold his breath. The mental music helps. That she can keep focused on it's continuity is a blessing, and he tries to count the song's measures rather than the seconds that tick by-

And then it's over. She pulls back, and he's left still clenching a pillow in one hand and his nose in another. ]

Don't... mention it...

[ More forced, light, airy tone of voice - but quieter and shallow in breath. He needs a moment, or several. To overcome his own squeamishness at the smell, unravel his thoughts, and try not to be sick. ]

[ If and when Elena feeds on someone else in the future, perhaps she'll share that sense of relief with Gil more fully, when she's not so worried about taking too much or about any of this being more than the donor can handle. Maybe with Sam, who seems able to take just about anything, as much as she hates having to feed from him at all. But for now, she has to be in control, for his sake and her own.

It's that control, that need to take care of him, that has her moving quickly to wipe away the trickle of blood with the cloth, to press against the small punctures and prepare a bandage to wrap around his neck. She'd gone for the side so that it would be easier to secure the bandage and not have it move. ]

I'm going to finish bandaging this up and then I'm going to get you some water, okay? Maybe some tea if I can find it. Just keep breathing, Gil.

[ Elena can feel that nausea creeping up in him and trying to spill over into herself, and she does her best to keep pulling in strong, steady breaths, concentrating on what she's doing as she ties off the bandage. ]

What, bandage? Ah- no, no, there's no need-

[ As scatterbrained as he is, he'd almost forgotten - he can heal this. He's a bard, of course he can heal a small puncture, and hadn't he promised to? The smell might not go away for a while, but he can at least seal the wound. He just needs a song, and luckily he has a new one in his head he's already focused on.

He's never been a particularly good singer, but the knows how to pull magic from his own melodies no matter how they're made. After a couple deep breaths he slides his hand from his mouth to his neck and beings to sing the same lyrics Elena played for him moments ago. There's no healing light or visible crackle of energy, but there's something in the way he hums that isn't quite the same as normal music. It only takes a just a few seconds, maybe a few more as tired as he is, and when he pulls his hand away the two little spots on his neck are as good as gone. The skin still red and irritated, but there's hardly a mark otherwise.

Gildor's brows knot and he stops the humming to clear his throat. He tentatively rolls his head to the side, then the other, feeling it out. There's still some pain, but it will fade soon enough. ]

There... nothing to fret about. I'll still take that water though, thank you.

[ The nausea is still strong, and much as he'd rather not eat or drink right away, staying hydrated would be wise. ]

Edited 2017-09-18 06:15 (UTC)

[ Elena pulls away as he begins to work, feeling something from what he's doing even if she can't describe it, and she's impressed to see the marks healed when he removed his hand. Not perfectly, but just about. It's an unexpected display of skills she only peripherally knew he possessed, and it takes him speaking to break her from that stunned spell. ]

I'll be right back.

[ There's just a moment of hesitation before she hops up and quickly pulls on the rest of her costume. She slips out of the tent and is gone a few minutes, hurrying as much as she can, and returns with both two cups: one filled with water and one with tea. ]

[ Within those few minutes, Gildor has made himself comfortable enough to begin drifting off. Not on his proper, usual cot, but splayed ungracefully in the middle of the tent and propped up on pillows. He can reach the plate of food Elena's left, and while the nausea hasn't faded enough to make him want to eat, he has no intention of moving from this spot for the rest of the night.

He doesn't ask for her to clarify herself when she re-enters the tent - he knows, and when she moves closer he can smell tea. ]

Thank you. [ He waits for her to settle in again before reaching for one of the cups, filling the silence between with idle thoughts. ]

I admit, I still harbored some small doubt about your vampirism until tonight. You are just so unlike any others I've come across...

[ He's settled on her type vampirism simply being different from the kind that plagues his world and Lakshmi's. More relatable to his own plights as a half-human than a monster. ]

Know that what you are is not so important as who you are. Thank you, Elena. For helping me and allowing me to help you.

[ It's not surprising to find him sprawled across the floor again, though she's glad he doesn't seem quite as ill as he'd been before. He's not going to be jumping up and dancing anytime soon, but he seems a tiny bit better, and that's progress that she'll happily accept.

Setting the other cup down beside the plate of food, she moves to lay down beside him, claiming one of the outlying pillows for herself. No, she's not going anywhere for a while, not until she's certain he'll be alright. And certainly not until she's managed to work past the tightness in her throat and the tears stinging her eyes at his kind words. ]

Thank you, Gil. For helping me and... for saying that.

[ It means so much more than she could ever say. ]

[ The cold sweat around his brow has dried away, and as the smell of blood fades to the smell of tea, so does his nausea. He holds the cup in both hands, warming them as he continues, because if Elena thought he would stop there she's quite wrong- ]

Of course. The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself. You've gone through a very drastic change, and you may not feel comfortable in your own skin now, but it hasn't robbed you of you. Hold onto that, and eventually you'll be able to love yourself as you are, I'm quite certain.

[ He sip his tea, trying to keep it casual despite the tightness developing in his own throat. It's a tad annoying and clearly isn't a result of his own emotions - or he's half certain. The quickest way to get rid of it is to lighten the mood, and so he continues, though his voice drops an octave- ]

And when you do, you'll be able to love that Damon boy impossibly more. Mind you I'm not saying I want to feel it any more clearly, but being able to love yourself first opens up magnitudes of possibility when it comes to loving others.

[ Loving herself as she is. The very idea of it brings up a mountain of things she's been debating and agonizing over the past few days, lobbing possibilities around like a ball on a court. Because it's so hard to love herself like this when she isn't sure that anyone else will.

What about Jeremy? Will he still see her as his big sister, or will she be just another vampire causing problems for everyone in Mystic Falls? And Bonnie, who took so long to accept Caroline? Will Care expect her to have just as much control over her vampire side, and will she be disappointed with Elena doesn't? And Stefan... Will he still be able to love her when she's become something he hates? He'd supported her through her transition, but that had been because otherwise she would have died - he hasn't seen her since it finished. What if he doesn't accept who she is now, the way Damon--

Her spiral of thoughts grinds to a halt as Gildor's words register and she props herself up on an elbow, her expression turning to one of shocked protestation that is conveyed through their connection. ]

I'm not in love with Damon!

[ And maybe that protest is a little too strong... ]

[ The lady doth protest too much indeed.

Gildor winces slightly, sticks a pinkie into the ear closest to Elena, and unashamedly wriggles it a moment to keep any ringing from starting up. When he lowers it back to the cup again, he continues to say nothing - just raises his brows as he goes in for another, much longer sip of tea. And though he says nothing, a few surface thoughts escape to their too-close connection without his meaning to- ]

(That advice was so good, and yet-
Artist Almighty, if currency were still relevant round here I would consider charging for such advice-
Though there's no use in saying what won't be listened to-)

[ He's lost somewhere between exasperated and amused, and his lips are tight around the edge of the mug to avoid showing her a knowing smirk. ]

[ Elena deflates a little at the sight of his wince, lowering herself back to the pillow once he seems to be relatively alright, but she's in full-on pout mode right now and there's absolutely no hiding it. Especially when those words come over their connection. ]

I'm not. Why does everyone keep saying that I am...

[ Gildor could go on giving her reasons and answers, but they probably aren't anything she would like. He could explain how he suspects her inexperience, stubbornness, and clinging to her past are likely keeping her from identifying the feelings she has around Damon as young love. He could also tell her how he and Lakshmi have already recognized those feelings and remember them fondly, and maybe even suggest she let go of her convictions and enjoy this love in the moment...

Instead, he just reaches out a hand and says- ]

Pass the plate here, would you please?

[ It's an extremely good thing that Gildor doesn't pursue that line of thought, because it would have dredged up all sorts of things that Elena isn't quite ready to explain to her broodmate. Her worries about becoming like Katherine, about her commitment to Stefan, the ingrained memory of how Caroline had always reacted to her attraction to the other Salvatore brother... None of it would make for very pleasant conversation.

She grabs the plate without a second of hesitation and carefully hands it to him, making sure he has a good grip on it before letting go. ]

I got a little bit of everything they had that you can eat.

Thank you-

[ He still doesn't have much of an appetite, but he takes the plate and balances it across his stomach. It goes against every etiquette lesson he received as a child, and while he's still very much a product of his training, he has learned to pick and choose which manners are important in certain settings. And despite the tension he brought up or the light snack she made of him, he's relaxed enough around Elena to not worry so much about upholding appearances. ]

You should go on and enjoy the rest of the night's festivities. I'm feeling better already, and I'll probably just sleep after this.

[ It's a promise to be very boring for the rest of the night. He picks around the plate for whatever feels like fruit first, popping a few berries in his mouth. There - proof for her that he'll eat and be good. ]

[ It satisfies her worry to see him eat something, but he needs a lot more than that, in her opinion. She'd watch him eat that entire plate if it was her choice, but she won't force that on him. Still...

She turns on her side to face him and slips an arm under her head. ]

I thought I might stay another few minutes, if you don't mind. Give you another song.

Oh! I would love that. Though do keep in mind, my brain tends to retain whatever music I hear. The same seems to go for music shared through the symbiote.

[ What that boils down to is an implied plea. Be kind and don't put any overly-catchy jingles in his head, as they will reside there forever. Not that he's afraid Elena would do this, but he feels he should make it known. ]

[ It's in her own best interest to make the song something enjoyable and not completely annoying, so she's happy to grant him that allowance. But what song should she choose, then? Something she won't mind hearing again in the background... ]

I've got a good one then. It's from a movie I loved when I was little.

Oh? [ His interest is piqued, but with a bit of confusion. ]

Movie? I'm afraid I don't know what that is.

[ 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.

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

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perroquet - 2017-10-22 06:46 (UTC) - Expand

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