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

[onemind]

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

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

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

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

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



THE GRAZE &
THE MINIATURE FINGER MAZE
DAY :016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[sistershoggoth]

[ It felt important to be clear that she had not so much stopped as finally been overwhelmed too deeply for the drink to ever really fix. No amount of liquor or drugs would have disguised reality to her.

She and Therese had spent months alone cleaning up corpses from the Academy's lawn, let alone the relief work that occupied their years to come. All the bodies they'd burned, hidden, removed from history one by one with the pathos of a select few so that the world could be dressed up like their powers, and the ones who introduced them, had never been there at all.

There was no drinking that away. ]

Yeah, fine.

[ It didn't bother her, her skin and bones were nothing in her estimation besides a too-tight shell she would one day escape.

The scar is gruesome, raised flesh like a mountain range of scar tissue, twisted knots of slimy, purpled skin. It's some kind of miracle she was able to reform into this body at all, the searing energy of what had occurred could easily have incinerated her entirely. ]

[perroquet]

[ The glove is slipped off and his sleeve pulled down, just enough to keep his hand covered from watchful eyes but leave his fingertips free. He reaches and tentatively places his hand against her collar, skimming along the surface of her scarves till he finds the opening exposing the her skin-

And the opening to that portal she mentioned. He runs his fingers along the bumpy knots of raised scar tissue, and his brows knot together under his veils. Through the vibrations he feels in her breath and heart, he can detect something deeper - like a pit just beneath the surface of her scars. A long tunnel no living thing should have within them, and it isn't empty. It's writhing. ]

...yes, I was certainly foolish to think I could heal this. Blood and thunder, Annie. Does it pain you all the time?

[ He pulls his hand back, shaking slime off his fingers. He's still not fully comprehending it all, but he can understand now how no amount of substance can fill her, and basic healing is right out. She would need more than bard magic or even clerical magic can offer. Perhaps only healing a god could provide would to something, and nothing short of a miracle. ]

I know my sympathy does little, but if there is ever a way to ease this...

[ He doesn't finish, letting the sentiments hang there, a bit bitter at himself. As someone who's been offered help a hundred thousand times for pains he's had to live with, he's confident she understands. ]

[sistershoggoth]

Ah, for fuck's sake.

[ An obligatory response, really. She's far too used to this hole in herself to respond with anything else. She was born with it, whatever that meant. She understands the basics of her problem: that some indefinable mote of energy broke some quantum boundary, made itself at home in the welcoming growth of a fetus, altered her structure before she was even human; and thus she never really was. She was not born, she tore her way out, something other than infantile.

Is it even pain she's felt all this time? Or was it just dissonance. Existing in two places at once, in two forms at once, in many minds all of them her own but not her own at once.

Had it hurt when she turned herself inside out? Buried this Annie beneath the exultation of her true size and true might. Or had it just been glorious.

Well. Her head certainly hurts now, that sense of enormity pressing on the barriers of her skull.

So she tells him more sternly, ]

Fuckin' stop it.

[ Before it gets any more out of hand, before she lets that memory get the better of her and she exploded his head along with hers. ]

[perroquet]

[ That bitterness at himself intensifies before rolling inward, drawn behind another black curtain and put out of sight, like the rest of his mind. ]

Apologies.

[ He should know better. It's natural for him to want to try and solve things, to help, but he should know when something is unsolvable. Like when he's told new magic can cure him, or if he prays to the Artist enough, or perhaps a different god, then maybe-

No, there is no problem to be solved in him, just as there is none in her. So he stops, upset with himself, and returns his hands to his cane.

This time they remain still. ]

[sistershoggoth]

[ She rustles her robes back into place, but then she punches his shoulder roughly. ]

Fuckin' stop already.

[ The sense of her rolling her eyes is easy to suss out. ]

[perroquet]

I thought I had? Oh-

[ He belatedly realizes he's gone from pitying her to pitying himself, and he's not sure which is worse. ]

Ugh-

[ With a disgusted groan and a sigh, he finally stops. The music of his mind steadily returns, easier to call upon now that he's away from the dining tent and the drinks within. He runs through the first few measures of song, and then reaches out to grab a chunk of Annie's robes- ]

There.

[ He runs his hand up them, then down, then up again in exaggerated motions, using her as a towel to wipe a the tiniest bit of slime still on the back of his hand away. ]

Better.

[sistershoggoth]

Better.

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

You need to learn some better music.

[perroquet]

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

This is one of my compositions.

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

[sistershoggoth]

[ She grins at him. ]

Needs more thrashing.

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

[perroquet]

Thrashing? I would never-

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

This... this is... music?

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

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

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

[sistershoggoth]

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

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