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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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!]

[ 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. ]

It's fine.

[His blanket answer to everything he doesn't want to talk about. It's not that fine -- it hurts a lot, but since when is pain anything new? As long as he keeps his shields clamped down, it won't effect anyone else.]

[If he puts this strip in his teeth he can surely get this.]

[ Another host might look him over and disagree with that answer, but Gildor has to accept it. Still, he accepts it with a dose of skepticism measured on experience. ]

I've heard that from many stubborn adventurers before... mostly paladins. Do let me know if you change your mind. I am a healer.

[ He goes back plucking at a single string with a clawed ring, loosening it and listening. But he's also still listening to the other host, his head turned so one ear is on him. ]

It's fine.

[He's insisting. As usual. It's nothing. As long as he gets it wrapped up, there's probably nothing wrong. Not seriously, anyway.]

[Besides, if he's hurt, there might be other people who need it more than he does. People who are better suited to getting information for the mission. So he's fine.]

[Note to ask Seviilia later, though, if she knows this guy. She'd mentioned paladins too.]

[ The other host insists, so Gildor nods and returns to focusing on the instrument. Once satisfied with the sound, he begins a soft song - the same one he played for Pidge earlier that day. Practice, practice, practice. ]

I can move to another tent if this is bothersome.

[ As a musician, he's used to people not liking the noise of practice. Like he said before, 'I don't mean to be a bother. I know I certainly can be...'

On top of that, he's not completely sure Bellamy dropped him off in the correct tent. It's his own fault thought - he'd just been so relieved to be away from the clamor and smell of the dining tents after his near-episode, he ducked into the nearest one. ]

[He's going to sound like a broken record at this rate. But this time, it's for real:]

It's fine -- and yes, I know I've said that before.

[Besides, someone making music might end up drowning out any kind of sound he'd make while finishing wrapping up his arm.]

[Almost secure now.]

[ He's not so focused that he can't hold conversation while playing - now that he's tuned the instrument as close to his beloved violin as possible, the muscle memory of some favorite pizzicato solo kicks in. He just laughs lightly and smiles as he plays. ]

I was about to ask if you could say anything else.

[ He jokes, but he's glad that's not the case. ]

Could you tell me to whom I am speaking?

[ It takes time and frequency to recognize anyone by voice or step. While the symbiote has allowed him a new layer to identifying people he never dreamed possible, it doesn't work if a host does not want to be mentally identified, which, after Shinji's explosive temperament, he's trying to do better about respecting. ]

Guy of few words...

[Not really, but at the moment it's true. Because concentrating on maintaining shields and wrapping his arm the rest of the way. At least metal didn't break. One small favor.]

[He takes a minute to speak up again, tying the last strip of the stupid pink disguise -- Thank you very much Clint -- into place, making a rough sling of it.]

Shiro. You've talked to me before.

[ He finishes the song (for now) with a flourish. ]

Ah yes, Shiro! Thank you.

[ The one who felt frustrated with him over a small but important word correction, then left for the tents. He remembers, but seems not to mind it. Time is too fleeting to spend it holding petty grudges, and besides - there is definitely more to this man. The ones who present the thickest outer shells always have so much more to them, and now he knows to tread lightly.

Still, there are some things he'd like of every host out of common courtesy, and he's not afraid to ask for them- ]

It takes at least a few conversations before I recognize a voice. If you could let me know who you are at the start, it's much appreciated.

[ With that and another smile in Shiro's direction, the soft string-plucking resumes. ]

( Damn, killer! Didn't know you had it in you. )

[ Dude she's not even playing this game, she's just here to tease him. ]

[Well, that's a surprise. He shouldn't be surprised Annie is barging into his head during a competition again.]

(They're not actually dying.)

( We're just pretending they are, whatever. Whatever it takes to bring out your killer instinct, bruh! )

(You're going to laugh if I say, when you put it that way, it's slightly less fun. Aren't you?)

( Already laughing. )

(Okay then, carry on laughing, because suddenly all the fun has been sucked out of this.)

( What's so wrong with getting into the spirit of the hunt?! )

(My spirit is leaving my body.)

Edited 2017-09-09 05:50 (UTC)

( Aw c'mon. Are you a vegetarian or something? )

(After poison eels and land crabs giving us hives? Yeah, just a bit.)

( Okay, that's fair. But what could possibly go wrong with space bunny meat? Besides all the tiny unknown parasites living inside of them. )

(See... I was kidding.)

(And now I'm wishing we had the food goo back.)

[ He's so easy to fuck with. ]

( Th'fuck is food goo? )

[It's sad how easy it is, sometimes.]

(Exactly what it sounds like...)

[But in between chasing robot boars, he'll pass along the mental image of... what looks like a pile of green jello. On a plate.]

( Well, I mean. As long as it's hypoallergenic, maybe we oughta be bringing it on these missions. )

[ She's stopped teasing and gotten pragmatic. ]

shiro | ota

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