[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

[blooded]

❰ damon inclines his head toward the host, leaning on the image he's cultivated as a reticent guard — he rarely speaks, except to his charges, the royal sam and his sister. of course, he keeps a running commentary mentally, but the rapidashes aren't aware.

Save your enthusiasm for someone who cares. You were nice to her. Why?

even for damon this is more rude than he would usually be – mostly because being this rude takes more effort than just ignoring someone, but still – but he needs to know what kind of person this gildor is. if he can be trusted with elena, or if damon has to protect her from him too. ❱

[perroquet]

[ Oh! An asshole. This host is an asshole trying to intimidate him over Elena. He isn't sure why, but it doesn't take full access to the other's brain to figure that much out. ]

(Well, I try to be nice to everyone. It's much more pleasant to talk to people that way.)

[ He's still smiling his usual smile beneath the black veils of his disguise, and makes it known through the thread of their connection. He is open if this host wants to be, despite the aggressive behavior so far. Open, welcoming, and warm.

Warm like sunlight on skin. ]

(Besides, she's a sweet girl. Why wouldn't I be nice to her?)

[blooded]

❰ it's hard to hide the curl of satisfaction at that response — yes, she is a sweet girl. people should at least not treat her like shit before they get to know her, but that's apparently not the world they live in. if gildor is attentive enough to take note of that moment of satisfaction, it has nothing in common with the next words that pass between them.

What a stupid question. She's a monster, why would you be nice to her?

it doesn't feel good to say any of that, and even as the words themselves are hostile, damon can't muster up the mental energy to lie with his tone. there's no feeling at all in the words, apathy easier to feign than aggression. ❱

[perroquet]

[ The thread between them begins to fray, fibers snapping and unraveling. Gildor runs a tentative tendril of thought over it, curling around their thin connection like a curious shadow. ]

(I already told you, I try to be nice to everyone.)

[ His mind playfully plucks at the string, and for a moment his thoughts go hazy with a deep resonating sound. This is silly. If he's going to pretend and treat this like a game, then so will Gildor. ]

(Are we going to talk ourselves in a circle, or is there something else on your mind, Mr...?)

[ He has half a guess to fill in the blank, but would rather hear the name from him. ]

[blooded]

❰ damon doesn't answer the question, doesn't say anything at all. for a long moment he's quiet – he's losing control of this conversation, and that wouldn't matter except he needs an answer. he needs to know if this is another mind he needs to shield elena from, or a contact he needs to make. he can't protect elena all the time, certainly not from her broodmates' minds – if he has an ally within her brood, so much the better.

he's not counting on it.

If someone attacked her. Your hunter, or someone else. What would you do? ❱

[perroquet]

[ Let it be known he gave this man a choice, and he chose talking in a circle over honesty. A game Gildor considers himself fairly good at. ]

(Until your identity and intentions are made clear, I think I'll abstain from that one.)

[ It's getting a bit personal. Elena is brood, and he was not yet awake to act when she was first attacked. He's made a promise now, but that is between him and the rest of Mirfac. He can affect Lakshmi more directly, but if this host is seeking a path to Elena as well, then he will not reveal himself within it. Better to have the advantage of surprise.

Inwardly he plucks at the string of their connection once more, testing it. Outwardly he lifts his staff and taps it on the ground several times, then tilts his head. He thought the host wasn't completely alone, but now he's somehow confirmed it- ]

(That creature with you, is it native to this world?)

[blooded]

❰ this would be so much easier if damon could just threaten gildor into compliance. not for the first time (or, he's willing to bet, the last) damon laments the restrictions of the symbiote, and this time he doesn't even bother to try to hide the frustration and anger that make their way across the link. gildor plucks at their connection, the invisible yet tangible bond created by the symbiote, but damon holds it fast. there is no give to the thread between them, no resonance — he has a singular purpose here, and he won't be distracted.

An answer for an answer, if you really want to know. ❱

[perroquet]

[ The anger is noted - and pressed. He tilts his head back the other way, the single eye embroidered on his veils shifting and staring blankly back. ]

(All I want to know is whether or not you are endangering us all right now by letting it be see outside of our tents, which I think is a more pressing matter than your would-be situation, don't you?)

[blooded]

❰ I'm not stupid.

granted, that's debatable, but in this moment, no, he isn't. he's far too aware of the risk of being found out, he wouldn't have brought london along if he hadn't been assured it wouldn't cause any unnecessary attention brought their way. as far as the natives are concerned, london is an exotic but not outlandish pet, a sign of stature — damon is the personal guard of two carbasuchian nobles. that confers upon him a status symbol... in the form of a weird bird. it's worked as an explanation so far, and that's what matters. ❱

[perroquet]

(That's to be determined.)

[ He doesn't get the answer, so he's still (quite literally) left in the dark. The more they press each other, the less nice Gildor is going to be. Cordial, overly polite, passive-aggressive, but not so openly kind as he was when he tried to make pleasant acquaintances. This host won't open up, reveal his name, or answer a simple question about his pet - yet still expects him to reveal a very personal stance that could potentially endanger him and his brood, depending on the intent.

In the silence that follows, his mind settles into a well practiced calm. He is listening to something on the other end of his mind. Some well remembered music - he may as well entertain himself. He doesn't have anywhere he needs to be, and the races taking place far in the distance are boring. So Gildor remains patient, adjusting his staff in his hands and twisting the end in the dirt, resolved to hold his ground. ]

[blooded]

❰ #rude, gildor.

what he has going for him, though, is the fact that damon is on a time crunch, and he has very little patience. he doesn't have time for a long drawn out standoff where neither of them talks for half an hour until they get bored. for one thing, it'd look weird to everyone around them, for another, damon would miss the hunt.

gildor gets the sensation of eyes rolling, and the connection between them suddenly goes lax. where damon was holding it rigid before, only allowing through what he wanted gildor to see, there is now a more fluid exchange of information and sensation — chief of which being you're a fucking dick.

The natives don't care about my fucking bird. As far as they're concerned he's a status symbol given to the guard of a noble family. ❱

[perroquet]

(Oh good, that's a relief. I apologize for the assumption, it's just that I can't always tell-)

[ If using the blind card frustrates this host further, he'll use it. But there's progress now, as the connection is reluctantly widened. He is greeted with music coming from Gildor's end - a lone violin playing somewhere in an echoing pit of darkness. ]

(Now what was it you wanted to know again?)

[ He remembers perfectly well, but its blocked by the solo. Stalling for the sake of stalling now that he's aware impatience is working in his favor. It's what this host gets for trying to play him without realizing - he's a virtuoso. ]

[blooded]

❰ You're not as clever as you think you are.

just because damon has no choice but to indulge gildor for the moment doesn't mean he has to play into all of his bullshit. the elf is blind, not stupid, and damon would never be the one to conflate the two.

Answer my question and we can both stop this posturing. I have more important things to be doing with my time than threatening you. ❱

[perroquet]

[ That's better. It's a hurried and angered answer, but an honest one. Gildor is much more willing to entertain honesty, and his voice comes through clear as the music behind it. ]

(Well, the answer really depends on your intent behind the question.

If your intent is to hurt Elena and you suspect I will as well, then you are hoping to gain a new ally. If it is to protect her, then you are testing me to make sure I will not hurt her. If you mean to hurt her and I reveal myself to be in the way, that puts double the amount of danger on my brood.)

[ There it is - the pickle he's in is presented to the host on a platter. Three potential reasons, three potential outcomes with different levels of danger for Elena and himself. He is being cautious of all of them. ]

(So please, allow me one more question. Why do you ask?)

[blooded]

❰ and yet, here damon is with the exact same problem.

If I tell you why I'm asking you could lie. If I wanted to hurt her, you could say you're on my side and actually be taking information back to her. If I wanted to protect her, you could say you do as well and take information back to Lakshmi.

if they want to conclude this conversation in a timely manner, someone will have to give first. damon doesn't intend to be that person. ❱

[perroquet]

[ He shifts his staff to one hand, then the other. ]

(You forgot the one where we are both good men in agreement of keeping her safe, healthy, and as happy as she possibly can be after all she's been through.)

[ He did say several times he tries to be nice. Along with nice, he tries to be honest. He had hoped for the benefit of the doubt, but that hope is dashed for now. ]

(Your name then? We will all get to know one another eventually.)

[ And better than any of them likely ever wanted to.

Gildor still has the advantage of time, and he is willing to draw this out. An intention he makes clear with a long, long single note played on the violin in his head. ]

[blooded]

❰ It's adorable that you'd take that as a given.

and by adorable damon clearly means moronic. he doesn't trust anyone but himself and sam with elena's wellbeing, and even himself he hardly trusts. sam's the only person he thinks could be uniformly good for elena, and giving anyone else that trust without making them earn it, the way he'd almost done with misato... he won't make that mistake again.

but he's gotten his answer, at least enough of one that he can let go of the charade, and the connection between them widens even further, now a free exchange of information.

Damon. ❱

[perroquet]

[ What Damon will find on the other end of the connection is a vast expanse of seemingly nothing. His mind and memories are all sensory based, and by focusing on his blindness he can keep others blind to his thoughts without the use of walls. Still, the darkness is open, warm, welcoming, and the sound of the solo violin blooms into an orchestra that had been playing there the entire time. ]

(Damon! She mentioned you. Lots of affection behind it, said you were a friend.)

[ His mental voice has gone back to it's usual pleasant cadence, but somewhere in the darkness he's planning the talk he's going to have with Elena soon. Specifically about her taste in friends. All of this would have been so much easier if he just gave his name in the first place. ]

(Don't worry yourself Mr. Damon - Miss Gilbert is quite safe with me. If the Rani tries anything again, I am ready to stand between them.)