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

Entry tags:

[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 )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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. )

[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.]

❚❚❚❚❚ 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!

Edited 2017-08-26 03:54 (UTC)

[ 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? )

[ The cup is taken with little resistance, though for half a second there is an urge to clamp down on it. To yank it back with liquid sloshing and hold it closer to his face just to inhale of scent a little longer, he promises not to drink-

Luckily Bellamy is swift enough to remove it before his hand has time to react, and sudden relief takes the place of that urge. ]

(Thank you.)

[ That relief is tempered by the fact he can still smell it permeating the food tent. There are a hundred other smells, but the grassy alcohol fills his memory so strongly there is room for little else. It's a moment before he answers the second question, distracted by it. ]

(No, no poison.)

[ Not in the literal sense. ]

[ 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!

❰ 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. ❱

[ Gildor isn't one for seeking out thrills on his own. While the continued emphasis on riding practice makes him more apprehensive each day, he's fine with sitting out the competitions. He would rather spend time eavesdropping on the other envoys as they observe those still training from a safe distance. It's a sparse crowd, as most have already found their seats up in the viewing areas. In fact, he was just about to head that way himself when he hears the clatter of metal against rock.

It all happens to quickly. Suddenly the others around are scattering away from where he is, frantic footsteps scurrying against the ground amid gasps. An alarm goes off in his head - no - someone else's. And then voice he can almost hear in his mind shouts his two least favorite words in succession- ]

What?

[ By then he knows he's being told to run, but the alarm does the opposite of it's intention. Gildor freezes. There is nothing he can feel coming at him from the ground but a single host running half a field away, so whatever it is must be in the air where he can't- ]

SHNK!! [ The spear lands inches from where he's standing, piercing a layer of his draping robes and embedding him in the ground with it. Belated, he yelps and tries to run, but he's stuck - and extremely lucky his robes are so secure, because he's yanked down in the small cloud of dust the spear kicked up. ]

Hm?

[ Gildor turns around, seemingly unaware of the direction this new voice is coming from. It comes from nowhere but inside his head, but he's getting fairly good at pinpointing a host's location based on the their connection once it is established. This new host keeps the line between them as thin as thread, shielding his mind from Gildor's. It takes a moment, but he turns around and settles in the right place, more or less facing the host. ]

Hello!

[ He says the greeting outloud, in case anyone is watching. It would be strange for two Carbasuchians to meet and proceed to say nothing. ]

(That I do! Gildor Helyanwe of Esterport. How do you do?)

Edited 2017-08-29 04:08 (UTC)

[ Asuka's glad to be back in the saddle again, doing something that she thinks she'll be good at it. In a way, she's happy to be paired with Rani again. She's less enthused about having Misato around - Lexa she's mostly neutral towards. She twitches the reins in her hands as Misato starts to send orders through their mental link. A part of her - childish and vindictive and petty - wants to ignore her. Or deliberately screw this up for her. Make Misato feel the burn of humiliation. It's tempting, but not tempting enough to overcome her own desire to be seen as competent. She cuts after Misato after a moment, fingers tightening.

Why does she always have to do this? ]

( Roger. )

[ She's much more sure of herself than Misato is in the saddle, anyway. She's already catching up, leaning into the canter of her mount. ]

❰ 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. ❱

[ 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?)

❰ 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. ❱

[ 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. ]

❰ 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? ❱

[ 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?)

❰ 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. ❱

[ 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?)

❰ 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. ❱

( 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. 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. ]

(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. ]

[ Gildor sits beside her in the stands, more interested in literally anything other than the races or riding. Currently he's tuning the little instrument borrowed from the Collector, but it's proving difficult with gloves on. The reason for his aversion to riding is a fairly simple one. He'll allow Pidge to take a stab at it first, with a hint- ]

(Riding was the main form of transport in my world. Mostly horseback, though the wood-elves were known to ride elk. The northern dwarves rode great dire goats-)

[ He could spin this into a story, but stops himself. ]

(I avoided all forms of it for nearly one-hundred years there and I will continue to do so here, thanks very much. Now why do you think that is?)

❰ #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. ❱

(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. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 21

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

( the chase: for lexa, asuka and lakshmi )

no subject

Gildor Helyanwe | OTA

b.

no subject

WILDCARD!

WILDCARD

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Wildcard!

OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject