event } this ain't a scene, it's a deus ex machina (act one)

[seeingyou]

WHO: All y’all.
WHAT: Act One of This Ain’t A Scene It’s a Deus Ex Machina
WHERE: On Navi; Rizyeria and New Estos on the planet Merox.
WHEN: This month of April.
WARNINGS: Add these to your comment subject lines as needed! And if you get yourself smote, please report it on the death page.

scene one.

Navi has an announcement for everyone, and as per usual, it’s being broadcast right into your brain:

Attention, passengers.
I apologize that it has taken so long, but I believe I’ve found a solution to the problem where some of you have been transposed into a body that is not yours.
We are approaching an anomaly in the current galaxy known as the Blenga Zone. This area is known to be a hotspot of strange energy - some even describe the energy as “mystical” in nature. I believe that plotting a course directly through it may provide the catalyst to reverse your consciousnesses back into your original bodies.
I do admit this is not an area in which I have any expertise, so if any of you do have experience with this sort of thing, I am willing to listen to your advice.
For the rest of you, you’ll find sturdy restraints emerging from the walls. Please be ready to strap yourselves in - I imagine this part of our voyage will be less than smooth.
Please stand by …

As promised, wherever you are on Navi, a padded harness emerges from the wall nearby, ready for you to utilize when the turbulence begins. And what turbulence it is! The shaking begins gradually, but quickly increases in intensity until the movement becomes severe, and Navi shouts for everyone to strap in and brace for impact. Warnings blare over the PA, lights flicker out and are replaced with the dim red glow of emergency lights, and it seems as if Navi will be shaken apart at the seams. The ship pitches in varying directions, over and over again, until the crash of final impact can be felt, and Navi flips over a few times before skidding to a stop. On the bright side, Navi landed right side up.

On the even brighter side … at least you’re back in your body now?

scene two.

Eventually, through your combined powers of investigation, it becomes apparent that Navi is offline. The glyphlinks won’t connect, everything on the ship is in low-power mode, and even the drones are nowhere to be found. It’s not hard to guess that Navi has sustained some injuries after that extremely rough landing. Luckily, the loading dock is still functional, so you can still leave the ship to check out the planet!

Checking out the planet means discovery that Navi’s crash ended not far from a walled city, and what looks like a factory town on the outside of that wall. Any passengers curious enough to investigate will find themselves soon met - with wariness and suspicion - by local inhabitants, and escorted into the heart of the slums to meet with their leader, who resides with other locals in a large, abandoned warehouse. Roughly made tents are scattered throughout the warehouse floor, giving it the appearance of a refugee camp more than permanent housing, and a small crowd of children is seated around a larger hooded and cloaked figure seated on a stack of wooden crates. He stops imparting whatever wisdom the children had been attending with rapt attention and glances up at the newcomers.

“I see we have some visitors,” he says, in a neutral, slightly metallic voice. “Welcome to Rizyria. We don’t have much, but if you come in peace, we’re quite happy to share what we have.” He stands and pushes back the hood from his cloak to show his unobscured face, which is covered in numerous fluttering miniature wings, which are in turn covered with even more eyes. “My name is Hanna’morith. What brings you to us today?”

scene three.
Once the exposition cutscene has been cleared, Hanna’morith offers to assist with healing Navi, and he promises to recruit some of the other Rizyrians for the effort as well. There’s just one thing he’ll ask in return - your assistance in locating the Imrathic Shattershards, which are scattered to various public buildings and private collections inside the walled city of New Estos. All you will need to do is locate one of the shards, liberate it from its current abode, and return it to Hanna’morith for eventual reconstitution.

A handful of Rizyrians appear at Hanna’morith’s side to start planning the various infiltrations, and Hanna’morith asks to be taken to see the injured Navi. Feel free to mingle while you wait, and once your plans are finalized, you can head out whenever you’d like - though sooner is better, obviously. If not undertaking this high-risk scavenger hunt, you can head back to Navi, or stay in town to take in the entirely terrible sights.

Comments

Julia Bellamy | OC | OTA

[relance]

Open

To say that Julia is sick of this shit is to say that the Marina trench is kinda deep or that space is a tiny bit vast. While she's relieved to be back in her own proper and hot body, it feels foreign to her, and she's constantly having to readjust in order to know her strength, to have her senses back to the place that they were. It's more than a little bit of a hassle, which is one of the reasons why Julia is wearing aviator sunglasses like a complete asshole. (She is a complete asshole) More than that, to anyone who may or may not have wished that her being removed from her body might mean that she would smoke less when she got back to it? Well, sorry she's still an asshole there too. Honestly, would you want Julia to be anything but the asshole she is?

The blond werewolf is in fact smoking a clove as she waits in a park near the museum. A large coffee is held in one hand, and at her feet is a large bag. It's a bag that definitely holds more than a few tricks in it should they end up needing them in their little heist, but at this point Jules is angry enough that she's ready to just rip some of these stupid things in half with her bare hands if she has too. Honestly, she's kind of hoping that she has to. It'd be a good way of working off some of this tension that she can feel twitching in every muscle group that she has.

Of course that doesn't show in the way that she's leaning back on a park bench, her legs definitely spread open like a man's would be, even if it's somewhat constrained by the black trench coat that she's currently wearing. Alternating between drags of her clove and sips of her coffee, Julia's voice is low but can be heard as she just says softly: "eenie meenie miney mo."

Murmur | OTA

[albatrossomen]

After the terrible, albeit brief, bout of mortality Murmur was more than ready to get off of Navi and back on something resembling solid ground. The situation by which that happened was unfortunate, but at least they were back in the right bodies and he didn't have to worry about Richard blowing up the ship or causing some other unfortunate disaster. Of course, being stranded on a desert planet with Navi damaged was a disaster all on its own, but not one insurmountable. Or so he expected.

The careful optimism all but vanished upon discovering exactly what kind of planet they'd been stranded on. Of course it had to be one touched by MindsEye, and of course it had to be in the throes of robot-themed despair. Worse yet, robots designed as a disgusting mockery of angels. Murmur had been content to go along placidly enough until he caught sight of the group's leader.

Then he was gone. Well... not really gone. He'd retreated to a stack of rubble and debris to perch and observe the goings on not unlike a territorial cat. Perch was not a metaphor, he'd found the most precarious point he possibly could and was indeed balanced on his toes, curled in on himself in a posture that would be uncomfortable for any human to maintain for long. The generally neutral if faintly puzzled expression had been replaced by one of faint disgust and intense wariness. This did not bode well and they should leave immediately.

He didn't want to get involved and very pointedly had distanced himself from any conspiratorial conversations about collecting pieces of weapons or what have you. These were mortal affairs and mortal business and he would have none of it.

He's absolutely going to get roped into it.

for mur. cws itt: torture, death, casual suicidal ideation

[aparticularlyhollowlaugh]

Jon doesn’t know how long he’s been stuck in this literal dungeon underneath the Prophet’s mansion. It could’ve been days since he was taken off the street and brought before the ruler of this city - he looked familiar, somehow, but Jon couldn’t put his finger on it - or he could’ve been missing only an hour. All he knows is that the pain hasn’t stopped since he’d been seen and judged an abomination and sentenced to immediate execution.

Yet Jon was still alive, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on his executioners’ part. He’s been run through with swords, shot with arrows, hanged, pierced with heated pokers - Is this what Rasputin must’ve felt like? he’d wondered, dazedly, at some point, lying on the dusty floor, bleeding and shackled, while his captors looked on, baffled that the Archivist in front of them was not yet dead.

He should be dead; Jon knows this. He should’ve been dead long before now; he should’ve perished in the Unknowing before he ever began this strange journey; he should’ve been taken by the Web as a child and never heard from again. Yet he lives. Beholding’s doing, Jon imagines, part of the new monstrousness he created when he made the choice to become The Archivist. He’d laugh, but it hurts too much to do more than simply breathe and wish for all of this to end. He’s tired of the pain, tired of hearing his own screams echo against the stone walls, tired of waiting, tired of wondering …

He’s tired. Let it end. Let it all just … end.