sassafrisk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sassafrisk) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
melodiesofeternity2018-11-16 11:26 am
sassafrisk) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-11-16 11:26 am
Player Plot: Winter Isn't Coming, it's Already Here
Who: Everybody who signed up for the event.
When: November 23rd-30th
Where: The Uncharted Territories
What: Frisk leads an expedition into the North to try and find Hades. It doesn't go well.
Warnings/Notes: Post a toplevel to each of the segments below if you want. Encounters will be posted under the appropriate toplevel. For combat, I'd appreciate it if you put where your putting your passive job stat boosts in the subject line of your first post, plus any other boosts your character may have. Thank you!
THE STAGING GROUND (DAY ONE)
The directions that the volunteers have been sent over mail lead to a chocobo ranch just a day away from Armstrong Fort. For a groundbreaking journey into the unknown, the staging ground for Frisk’s expedition isn’t all that impressive. A quaint, if run-down, farmhouse lies next to the chocobos’ grazing patch, where Frisk can be seen arguing with a surly-looking Elezen. White chocobos coo at the new arrivals next to a mound of barely organized high-quality camping gear, staring at them curiously (or blankly, depending on how much intelligence to ascribe to chocobos). It’s a brisk November morning, and the cold bites into marrow of one’s bones as frost-encrusted dead grass crunches beneath the chocobos’ feet. Bleak grey clouds block out the sun, threatening snow but never quite delivering. Resignation and bleakness permeate the air. This certainly isn’t an auspicious start to an already dubious quest.
INTO THE VAST (DAY ONE)
The first day of the expedition is, in a word, boring. Dreary, depressing, monotonous, and several other words of similar caliber would also be apt descriptors. The moody weather doesn’t change through the long hours of plodding towards Armstrong Fort, the clouds oscillating between grey and sullen, and black and intimidating; but always refusing to actually burst and bring down snow on the party’s head. Not even random encounters deign to make an appearance to spice up the day, due to the extensive efforts of Tark Varentain’s military. Perhaps the only redeeming factor of this first day is that the flat terrain and docile chocobos make the actual riding of the birds a breeze, with only the most inept of chocobo riders--such as Frisk--falling off or bruising their rumps through other means. With MogNet reception growing spottier as the team approaches the Claus Snowfields, the only way to pass the time is with conversation.
ARMSTRONG FORT (NIGHT ONE)
When Armstrong Fort appears on the horizon near sundown, it brings a sudden change in weather. Snowflakes begin falling from the sky, increasing in numbers and force as the expedition party makes its way towards the imposing fortress. After just thirty minutes, it’s nearly impossible to see ten feet past your chocobo’s beak. Thankfully, the white chocobos are used to such conditions, so the expedition party still makes good time. The party arrives at Armstrong Fort an hour after the inclement weather begins, and they’re greeted by grim guards who refuse to let them in after a solid fifteen minutes of arguing with Frisk, despite the permit for lodging that they display.
Inside, the fort is just as bleak as the outside, although in a significantly different way. Primarily elezen and human soldiers huddle around sputtering fires on the walls, peering through the snowstorm looking for any signs of monsters. The cries of the wounded echo from the medical hall, although all of the soldiers remain stoic even to their comrades’ pain. If pressed, one of the guards will begrudgingly explain that without a regular shipment of mana potions, their healers often can’t use magic on every wounded soldier, forcing them to do it the old-fashioned way.
The empty bunks that the volunteers are escorted to are uncomfortable, cold, and barren, but it’s marginally better than sleeping on the floor. Marginally. But whatever slumber the party gets is interrupted at one in the morning, when a pack of ferocious yetis attacks the walls. The soldiers stationed at Armstrong Fort are used to such assaults and don’t need any help fending off the monsters, but if any of the adventurers give their assistance anyways, they’ll earn the guards’ grudging respect and perhaps a little something for their trouble.
CLAUS SNOWFIELDS (DAYS TWO AND THREE)
The volunteers are awoken just before the crack of dawn, dragged (by force if need be) to a breakfast of heated ration block and hustled out the door before the sun would even peek over the horizon if it wasn’t completely obscured by the endless snowstorm. From there, a boring journey becomes downright miserable.
Everybody has to huddle uncomfortably close together on their chocobos to keep from losing each other in the oppressive whiteness of the storm. Even the high-end survival gear that the volunteers are wearing only slightly blunts the biting edge of the cold, the raw frigidity of the environment digging deep into the marrow of the bones and nestling there like some twisted parasite. The white chocobos, as surefooted as they are in this environment, struggle against the howling gales, each step forward seeming like a monumental accomplishment.
It isn’t long before all sense of direction is lost. Compasses stop working just a few hours in, their only use being pointing a way vaguely forward to venture towards. The only reliable way to tell the time is the frequency and strength of monster attacks; as the day inches towards night at an agonizingly slow pace, more and more monsters bound out of the snow to savage the party. At the start of this leg of the journey, packs of roving monsters only came once or twice every hour. But as the hours grind past it begins seeming like the party can’t have five minutes of peace before being interrupted by some manner of beast. It’s not just yetis and ice elementals, either: there are strange, exotic animals, all the apex of physical perfection that comes with the ability to survive in such a harsh environment. Magical constructs such as ice golems and undead dressed in the clothes of other explorers also sometimes come charging out of the snow at the party, forcing a confrontation.
When: November 23rd-30th
Where: The Uncharted Territories
What: Frisk leads an expedition into the North to try and find Hades. It doesn't go well.
Warnings/Notes: Post a toplevel to each of the segments below if you want. Encounters will be posted under the appropriate toplevel. For combat, I'd appreciate it if you put where your putting your passive job stat boosts in the subject line of your first post, plus any other boosts your character may have. Thank you!
The directions that the volunteers have been sent over mail lead to a chocobo ranch just a day away from Armstrong Fort. For a groundbreaking journey into the unknown, the staging ground for Frisk’s expedition isn’t all that impressive. A quaint, if run-down, farmhouse lies next to the chocobos’ grazing patch, where Frisk can be seen arguing with a surly-looking Elezen. White chocobos coo at the new arrivals next to a mound of barely organized high-quality camping gear, staring at them curiously (or blankly, depending on how much intelligence to ascribe to chocobos). It’s a brisk November morning, and the cold bites into marrow of one’s bones as frost-encrusted dead grass crunches beneath the chocobos’ feet. Bleak grey clouds block out the sun, threatening snow but never quite delivering. Resignation and bleakness permeate the air. This certainly isn’t an auspicious start to an already dubious quest.
The first day of the expedition is, in a word, boring. Dreary, depressing, monotonous, and several other words of similar caliber would also be apt descriptors. The moody weather doesn’t change through the long hours of plodding towards Armstrong Fort, the clouds oscillating between grey and sullen, and black and intimidating; but always refusing to actually burst and bring down snow on the party’s head. Not even random encounters deign to make an appearance to spice up the day, due to the extensive efforts of Tark Varentain’s military. Perhaps the only redeeming factor of this first day is that the flat terrain and docile chocobos make the actual riding of the birds a breeze, with only the most inept of chocobo riders--such as Frisk--falling off or bruising their rumps through other means. With MogNet reception growing spottier as the team approaches the Claus Snowfields, the only way to pass the time is with conversation.
When Armstrong Fort appears on the horizon near sundown, it brings a sudden change in weather. Snowflakes begin falling from the sky, increasing in numbers and force as the expedition party makes its way towards the imposing fortress. After just thirty minutes, it’s nearly impossible to see ten feet past your chocobo’s beak. Thankfully, the white chocobos are used to such conditions, so the expedition party still makes good time. The party arrives at Armstrong Fort an hour after the inclement weather begins, and they’re greeted by grim guards who refuse to let them in after a solid fifteen minutes of arguing with Frisk, despite the permit for lodging that they display.
Inside, the fort is just as bleak as the outside, although in a significantly different way. Primarily elezen and human soldiers huddle around sputtering fires on the walls, peering through the snowstorm looking for any signs of monsters. The cries of the wounded echo from the medical hall, although all of the soldiers remain stoic even to their comrades’ pain. If pressed, one of the guards will begrudgingly explain that without a regular shipment of mana potions, their healers often can’t use magic on every wounded soldier, forcing them to do it the old-fashioned way.
The empty bunks that the volunteers are escorted to are uncomfortable, cold, and barren, but it’s marginally better than sleeping on the floor. Marginally. But whatever slumber the party gets is interrupted at one in the morning, when a pack of ferocious yetis attacks the walls. The soldiers stationed at Armstrong Fort are used to such assaults and don’t need any help fending off the monsters, but if any of the adventurers give their assistance anyways, they’ll earn the guards’ grudging respect and perhaps a little something for their trouble.
The volunteers are awoken just before the crack of dawn, dragged (by force if need be) to a breakfast of heated ration block and hustled out the door before the sun would even peek over the horizon if it wasn’t completely obscured by the endless snowstorm. From there, a boring journey becomes downright miserable.
Everybody has to huddle uncomfortably close together on their chocobos to keep from losing each other in the oppressive whiteness of the storm. Even the high-end survival gear that the volunteers are wearing only slightly blunts the biting edge of the cold, the raw frigidity of the environment digging deep into the marrow of the bones and nestling there like some twisted parasite. The white chocobos, as surefooted as they are in this environment, struggle against the howling gales, each step forward seeming like a monumental accomplishment.
It isn’t long before all sense of direction is lost. Compasses stop working just a few hours in, their only use being pointing a way vaguely forward to venture towards. The only reliable way to tell the time is the frequency and strength of monster attacks; as the day inches towards night at an agonizingly slow pace, more and more monsters bound out of the snow to savage the party. At the start of this leg of the journey, packs of roving monsters only came once or twice every hour. But as the hours grind past it begins seeming like the party can’t have five minutes of peace before being interrupted by some manner of beast. It’s not just yetis and ice elementals, either: there are strange, exotic animals, all the apex of physical perfection that comes with the ability to survive in such a harsh environment. Magical constructs such as ice golems and undead dressed in the clothes of other explorers also sometimes come charging out of the snow at the party, forcing a confrontation.
short tag just to get us back in the swing of things
no subject
But the Giant has other things in mind. It thrusts out its palm towards the party, gathering an orb of black and crimson energy. Blood-red tendrils reach out and drag Kanji and Naoto towards the orb, crushing their bodies in the Vortex's well of gravity and stunning Kanji for one round. Before he's incapacitated, Kanji manages to strike out with a Vengeance, hitting the Iron Giant for minimal damage.
Kanji: 118/257 (STUNNED!)
Azusa: 181/200
Frisk: 134/150
Naoto: 82/164
Uedno: 147/167
no subject
"NAOTO, heads up!"
God damn it, why wasn't he faster like everyone else!? It was like this back home, too, when he usually took a shot way after everyone else against each and every fuckin' Shadow. With a swing of Vengeance he got a little payback, but he couldn't get that Sentinel off in time. The ground slid under his feet and what followed was like a giant fist closing over his body. He braced and pushed the best he could, fighting to breathe, and watched the edges of his vision begin to turn snowy.
When he was released, he still somehow remained standing, but his gaze was unfocused, stars popping in his vision as he wavered in place, grasping the hammer in both hands. He coughed and it was wet, spattering red over the snow. Something hurt in his chest. Something familiar... fuck.
He began slamming the heel of his hand against his head. Come on, come on...!
no subject
"Hoy, garbage can! Keep your grubby hands to yourself!"
Ifrit was ready once more, punching the Giant square in the face with another Meteor Strike. Kisegawa didn't have much hope of pushing the Giant over, but hopefully it would at least be sufficient distraction to let the others recover.
no subject
...
"My, my...you're really fired up. I'm really inspired."
This is what girlpower feels like, and hopefully Kisegawa will appreciate the pun.
no subject
The cover would've probably worked had the non-elemental magic spell targeted someone else, but the two of them meant any defense he might've meant to throw out failing. It didn't look like he was getting up from that attack either.
Feeling the healing power of Benefic wash over her, Naoto changed her stance - changed her gun into a blade too, the edge burning red. She should move back - she wasn't normally a close-ranged fighter - but she wasn't about to leave Kanji vulnerable to attacks either. Charged up, she struck back at the Iron Giant with her Magitek Sword flowing with artificial fire magic, Ifrit again (after using Meteor Strike for Kisegawa), blasting another Little Inferno.
quadruple oof (the icon is "plz no" for a reson)
The Iron Giant isn't done quite yet, however. After being driven to its knees, it gets up and swings its massive Grand Sword twice at each of the party members, its circuits overloading in some sort of desperation attack! Only Frisk manages to dodge one of the attacks, everyone else takes the brunt of the giant's fury.
Kanji: 18/257
Azusa: 12/200
Frisk: 31/150
Naoto: 9/164
Kisegawa: 2/162
F
"Fuck. That. Guy," he snarled. He didn't even need to look for it as he raised his hammer, catching the Emperor card in mid-air with the flat of it, crushing it against the ice and snow.
Takeji-Zaiten didn't hesitate, all but tearing away in a rush of blue light to rocket into the Iron Giant, massive limbs crackling with lightning as he went in swinging. Kanji shook off and set off after his Persona. He was feeling like fresh hell, but that wasn't about to stop him from joining in the beatdown, building that stormy energy.
Just as before, the finale was one big fat Ziodyne, a ray of lightning coming down from above before the demon lord would depart.
F
No. The power it gave them was useless right now. What good was an entertainer's words against an opponent with no emotions? They weren't made for battle after all. It had been suicidal to come here.
But here they were, and Kisegawa could only do what she'd always done -- survive. Keep them all safe from every threat the outside world threw at them. She was the only one these dimwits living in her head could rely on to protect them. She would not let them die.
Slowly, she pushed herself up. The pure white ground beneath her was stained with red, but that didn't concern her yet. Forget about saving her strength. Just like the previous night, a summoning circle lit up around her, and Kisegawa raised her head to glare up at the Iron Giant.
"Lord of the Inferno, come to me! Reduce this evil soul to ash and ruin!"
Perhaps it was the boost from Frisk's SAVE file, or perhaps it was the bubbling anger that Uendo wouldn't have been able to muster but that came so naturally to Kisegawa. When Ifrit rose from the depths, he did so with far more aggression that last time, fueled by the fury of his summoner, and let out a mighty roar as he unleashed Hellfire upon the Iron Giant.
F
...but from the ground, through the snow, she can see the camp in the distance. She pushes herself to her knees, lungs burning like she's been forced to put on a non-stop LIVE. Something thrums through her veins at the thought of a concert, and she looks around bewildered, suddenly more aware than before. Did someone else hear clapping? No...no, it's gone as soon as it came. The world is back to being white, and it's just her, her cards, and...
Naoto Shirogane.
She reaches for her cards for a well-time Major Arcana and pulls out the Balance, letting out a gasp of delight at the good luck she sees. The detective is once again filled with energy, her attack boosted by 25%. She's putting everything she has into Naoto's next attack.
"Please hit! Hit as hard as you can...!"
With the camp behind them, is this all she can do? There's no hellfire from her, no Melodies, only her cards. But Ena, Red, and everyone...she has to protect them!
F
Staggering back to her feet, she could see Kanji summoning. Behind her, she felt the surge of warmth - Ifrit disappeared from her side as he was called forth properly by Kisegawa. Meanwhile, she felt a rush of strength. It's not healing, but it will serve the purpose she needs.
"Right...!"
Do what she can with Azusa's strength boost.
Raising her hand, the Wheel of Fortune card appeared much like Kanji's own and Naoto forced herself to stand taller to crush it. During that first watch, those monsters did not understand what they were really dealing with, but the Iron Giant would as Yamato-Sumeragi appeared at her side. Between the Ziodyne and Hellfire, it's already destructive enough, but Medigola was already charged and exploding to devastate the area with a brilliant flash.
no subject
The Iron Giant goes down in a storm of lightning and Almighty energy, crashing to the ground and creating tremors with its fall. Yet they last far longer than they should. It's almost as if... several other somethings are also shaking the ground with every plodding step they take towards the camp.
Six Iron Giants appear out of the snow, cracking the ground as they march towards the camp with a singular purpose.
no subject
As he watched six other colossi emerge from the snow, that small spark of fear blooming in his belly, he initiated a Job Change anyway. He needed to be a Paladin from here on out. They had Cura, and higher defense than a Berserker.
"I'll knock their shit together... as best as I can!" God that's right, as a Paladin he couldn't lie and say everything was fine, but it didn't mean he couldn't fucking try anyway.
"Go back to camp and get everybody up!"
no subject
Six of them? They were barely able to take down one with all their strongest moves, and now there were six of them? It was like the universe had connived against them to pull the cruelest prank possible.
Kisegawa sagged heavily against her staff, drawing shallow breaths and shivering. Performing a full summoning had sapped all of her strength, and though the healing effect of the earlier Helios spell helped, it wasn't working fast enough. There was no way she could summon Ifrit again in this state.
Get everybody up... They couldn't possibly make it in time, but what else could they attempt? She made to turn back towards the camp, only for her leg to give out mid-step. Get up! Get up, damn you!
no subject
When she's ordered to run back to the camp, to try and dig everyone out of the fallen structure and wake them back up again, she nods and tries to hurry. A few thoughts run through her mind, but all of them are on the safety of the others, and her mind is made up when Uendo falls next to her.
Panting and breathless, she puts on a sincere smile. That's what an idol does, and all of Uendo should know this by now as she casts Benefic on Kisegawa, helping her up with the last of her energy.
"You keep going, Leader-chan. I'm not very good at rushing, you know...? I don't think I'd make it in time."
If she can help her friend make it away, maybe that will be enough. She can't even think about herself right now. Instead, she reaches into her sleeve for her cards again, readying for more battle.
no subject
Naoto reached into her pouch and took out another Hi-Potion, downing it. It would take a while for the Iron Giants to fully reach them, but she probably wouldn't heal up enough before they arrived. Better to have some health back at least and she readied her gunblade.
Above her shoulder, Shiva appeared, casting Veil of Ice.
no subject
--the Iron Giants take one step forward in unison. Then, a high ringing sound cuts through the air. The monsters stop, turn around, and head back in an entirely different direction, completely ignoring the camp.
A dome of light in the distance begins approaching the camp, two humanoid figures huddled within it.
no subject
Why was nobody going back? Didn't they know it was better off with one going down than an entire group? Then they could wake the others and they would all combine their strengths to-
The sound rang through the air and Kanji froze. The colossi turned and began to... leave.
"...What." No, really. What.
But he shook his head to clear it and raised a Cura, with a surge of light. That's for you, Azusa. He can worry about himself in a minute. The next one's gonna be for Frisk, they had time...!
no subject
Kisegawa almost let out a retort -- And just how am I supposed to dig them all out by myself? -- but swallowed it. She only knew the girl through the eyes of the others, but that was an entertainer's smile if she's ever seen one. Never show your sadness in front of an audience, huh?
They were all standing their ground. The thought of being the only one to run away felt rotten, but...
She didn't get the chance to make a decision. All of a sudden, the Giants were turning away, as if responding to the ringing sound.
"Did... someone just call them off?" Was that even possible? She could just about make out light coming their way. A friend? Another foe?
no subject
"Are those...people? I can't tell from here," she says mostly to Kisegawa. She dusts the snow off herself as best she can before shuffling closer, moving to stand more where Naoto and Kanji are, checking over her shoulder to make sure Kisegawa is following. Or staying.
Once she's reached them, she kneels next to Frisk, hugging them from behind for comfort. There, there. It's okay. Azusa is here.
no subject
Stubborn meet stubborn; Naoto was not leaving Kanji alone, hair standing as she shot a look in his direction. They were almost here and she shifted her stance...
... but then, they're retreating at the sound? Brows furrowed, Naoto doesn't lower her guard just yet - that dome of light was approaching. Who in the world?
no subject
The dome of light reaches the camp, revealing two elezen dressed in heavy yeti furs and riding white chocobos inside. They look at each other, then at the group, then at the camp, then at each other again before having a hushed discussion. After a moment, the elezen dismount, one of them unfastening a saddlebag from their chocobo while the other approaches the party, hands up.
The designated ambassador stares at the party like they're PuPus for a moment, clearly at a loss for words. "...um. Are you alright?" she asks lamely, pulling down her scarf and mask to reveal a befreckled woman with long brain hair done up and braids. "Well, uh. Obviously you aren't, don't worry, Tlasaz is getting you some potions, but... do you. Need. Any more help?" She's clearly at just as much of a loss as the party is.
no subject
There, a Cura for Frisk, offered with a raised arm. But he hadn't taken his eyes off the approaching light, and quickly resumed his stance, both hands on the handle of the greatsword. Feeling marginally better from Azusa's healing, that didn't stop him from being scrappy.
Ignoring the offer for aid, he snapped hoarsely, "You can redirect 'em. You probably sent 'em here."
He advanced two steps. He looked like complete shit, certainly, but if fighting gangs on the regular back home told you anything, it was to keep the hackles up. Thanks to them, and thanks to a certain slimeball of a "police officer", he wasn't about to soften up at the first offer.
no subject
Kisegawa rejoined the others now that the immediate danger appeared to have passed. She didn't want to blindly trust these strangers, but... This was a bad time to antagonize anyone. Least of all possible rescuers.
"Our shelter came down in the storm and we were set upon by these giants." She gestured towards the fallen Iron Giant. "The rest of them turned around and left just before you came."
She watched the elezen closely, trying to gauge their motives. They looked more confused than anything else.
no subject
When she's done, she steps out from behind the tall man and steps out next to Kisegawa.
"Please," she adds to her words. "The shelter's going to be difficult for just the four of us to dig out on our own. We need hands more than we need potions, I think."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)