How was the weekend, y’all?
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//Night 1 | Location: Nameless Forest - Lakeside
@AThousandCurses@baraquiel@Nakushita@Yankee@Vertigo@Cu Chulainn
“Mmm, a touch more salt would be nice, if I had any…”
The broth, at least, looked to be working out. She had to restructure the way the firepit existed to begin with in order to get a flame hot enough for what she wanted, and even then, she was fundamentally cooking with four different small ‘pots’ to begin with. Thank the gods that a couple of the boys still used those old tin bento boxes for their lunches; it would’ve been impossible otherwise. With charred fish bones, cracked wolf-spider bones, some root vegetables that she taste-tested before applying, water from the lake, and now Kogen’s addition of some sort of weird flesh-mushroom-tentacle-thing, Kumi’s dish was coming along well. It would’ve been even better, of course, if she had noodles or something, but that was a dream.
A lot of it was a dream, really. A full seasoning rack, proper burners for easy heat control, long chopsticks, dashi powder, miso, mirin, soy sauce…
“I think it tastes fine,” Masami said, dipping her own chopsticks into one of the soup tins and licking it. She received a rap on the noggin for her trouble.
“Mmm, but this isn’t the best I can do, and…” Kumi quieted down as Sasuke emerged from the shelter. There was still a wooziness to his steps, his pale complexion somehow made even paler in the glow of the night, yet he held on still, sparing a smile towards Masami before turning towards Kumi.
“Asahi needs some food.” A wave towards Daisuke in the distance, the basketball captain asking the other students about their own ails. “Is it ready?”
“Mhmm! The healing thing that he can do, right? How’re you now? Ah, I guess you’d be fine now, if you can walk around…” Kumi chuckled, genuine joy mixed with a bit of self-deprecation. “I’m sure Maki’d be happy to get a check out too. Uh, Masami, could you help him with?”
“Eh…” The taller girl considered her options, then saw Kogen in the distance, playing with his tentacle. “Hey Kogen! Help Sasuke with the food delivery here!”
A small pause, and Kumi joined in. “You can have some of it too! It tastes…ok!”
...
It tasted more than ok, to those who were ravenous or who simply tired of chewing tough meat. The charred bones from both fish and beast imparted an umami flavor to the water, while the root vegetables and the chewy tentacles gave it textures that were actually palatable to the students. More importantly, it was simply warm and filling, in a way that a haunch of fire-roasted fish or meat could not be. Asahi and Kogen, if the chuuni had helped out with bringing the soup over, would feel a warmth seep into their body that was natural, wholesome. Good, even.
A warmth that wasn’t just the forge within the guts, demanding fuel and granting power.
But that didn’t exempt Asahi and Duncan from having to stoke those flames regardless. Pink threads extended, and golden blood poured out, Maki actively holding back tears as her bones broke and mended, as the Duncan’s strange fluid caused a temporary change in her body that made it impossible for even her to remain stone-faced. It was simply weird! It was a wibbly-wobbly sort of pain, like the nausea that accompanied a concussion followed by a sharp uppercut into your liver. You couldn’t just shrug that off!
Her hand and foot were back though. That was certainly cause to celebrate, even though both the boys got the sense that she may end up with broken bones again in the near-future, now that there was a magical healer among the students.
Yuki, however, did not wake.
And Asahi, as he probed the prone boy’s mind with his Facsimile, still could not lift the thick blanket of unconsciousness that had entirely smothered the thoughts and emotions that his ability usually would’ve made him privy to. Was it a mystery at all though? Or would he just reach the same conclusion that Masato had?
Yuki was comatose. You couldn’t heal from that.
“Hey.” Daisuke popped his head back into the room, accompanied by Hiroshi. “We’re having a group meeting. Should probably come along.”
…
There was a flicker of hesitation in Ayane’s eyes.
But she blew past that hesitation in the next breath and hugged Ayana.
“What truth, Ayana? I can hear you out, at least.” She pulled away from the hug, looking her step-sister in the eyes. “Though if it’s just that you’re a masochist now, maybe keep that to yourself?”
It was hard to stay mad, really, when even the victim didn’t seem mad at all about getting slammed into the ground by another classmate. With a deep, hissing sigh, the fashionista decided to put it behind her for now. She wasn’t going to bring this up if Ayana didn’t want to. And that seemed to be the end of that, for the time being.
“Right, since everyone’s mostly gathered here,” Hiroshi spoke up, arriving in the firelight’s gloom with the once-scattered students along with him. “We should talk about the future. To guide this discussion, there are a few things to note.”
“One. The monsters are likely going to continue to be a threat, and we don’t have the ability to make fortifications strong enough to hold them off.” That was true enough. A hut made out of wood and mud could keep out the wind and maybe even deflect some rain, but considering how those hulk-phants had bulldozed through the school bus on a whim? They couldn’t make a wall strong enough to keep the monsters out.
“Two. These monsters seem to be resistant to anything except things made of their own body. We can consider that a magical trait.” The fang-tooth dagger was brought to mind. Kogen would have the most intimate experience with such a thing, with how much effort it took for him to use the claw of Rin’s hammer in order to tear out the throat of one of those beasts.
“Three. Those Awakened need a lot more food than the rest of us.” An easy enough observation to make, considering how starved every one of the Awakened continued to be. Even after what would have been a full meal back in the ‘real’ world, here in the Otherside, they could still go for much more.
“Those are the main concerns to place into consideration. I have my own thoughts, of course, but for the time being, a group discussion will be conducive to getting everyone on the same page.”
Hiroshi clapped his hands together.
“So. About the future. About what can be done tonight, tomorrow, and every day after. Does anyone have anything to suggest?”
Imagining dorming with the person you're gonna be immediately dueling tomorrow. Iraleth better sleep with one eye open; the night is the territory of the shadow witches.
That answered literally none of Otis’s questions, and it was that, rather than the refusal or the condescending attitude, that caused the Strigidae’s brow to furrow. And it was, from his own standpoint, an immensely stupid curiosity too, when such a thing could simply be figured out via some calculations as to essence output and combat experience. Someone who fought the majority of students would surely be able to grasp what an average was, but the nature of having an average meant that there were both above average and below average individuals tossed into the mix. It was a wholly illogical thing then, to wonder how far above one was from an above average combatant…because they already encountered those above the average!
The Seeker took a breath. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Right now, Valen placed even below Davil, in terms of being able to answer simple questions about himself.
But such sensations of frustration and annoyance, that flare-up of heat within his body, would pass. And as it passed, came cold calculation. If Sword and Shield were designed by the Principal to clash, then there would be opportunity to witness Valen’s abilities even without directly challenging him. He had chosen to scout out Ciara, after all, specifically for the purpose of challenging him. The majority of his questions would be answered if they ever encountered each other, and he reckoned too that it wouldn’t be so difficult to convince Valen to accept the condition of fighting her in pitch-black. As for accomplishing great things? Well, that was what he had always planned.
“I won’t,” Otis responded, turning to the guards. He doubted they would’ve jumped in if Valen started incanting a Fireball spell right then and there. “But I chose the faction opposite to his for that purpose, so his offer doesn’t matter.”
With knowledge, preparation, and strategy, he would be the one to win this war. If only by bringing forth a new era where magical might played second fiddle to technological advancement.
“Thank you for the warning though.”
From his pouch, Otis pulled out two pieces of rum caramels, offering them to the guards, before turning away and heading off to the Dormitories. Davil’s Etho-channeling boots were still inside his Workshop, and his Construct was still tracking what was occurring in that little cottage so many leagues away. Plenty to do, plenty to study. Ah, right, and if appropriate, an appeal to the Principal for a tour of the Iris Record.
Plenty to do indeed.
He picked up his pace, entering into a light jog.
Suna let out a small laugh as Kaeru emerged from the ether too, the two girls embracing each other for a moment before they separated. Friendly faces were nice to see, though she didn't mind any face so long as there was emotion behind it. Her eyes flickered over to the heart-holding teddy bear that the pink-haired girl had pointed out, nodding along.
"Alright." Then, she blinked, and she tilted her head around Kaeru's, looking at someone, something, behind her. "Huh. What's there?"
There was nothing there. But in the time that the others would have checked, Suna pulled back her fist, an electric viciousness flickering into her eyes before she struck the claw machine. The glass shattered, the force of her strike concentrated into a singular point that made such a thin layer almost too easy to break. Shards rained down, the dark-haired girl retracting her fist before the sharp edges could snag against her skin. With her other hand, she reached in, pulled out the one that the new girl pointed out, and nodded.
"There you are. Welcome to Hibusa." It plopped into Homura's hands and simultaneously, the blaring of alarms sounded as well, a confused sound from the worker there. "Now, this is where I run away, but you're free to join me too. Ah, and don't worry. This isn't theft." A wink, a smile that was balancing the line between mischievous and devilish. "The franchise can absorb the cost and the machine's built upon scamming the desperate, so, you know."
Her steps were light and guiltless, wholly unconcerned.
"It's basically justice to strike back! And Kaeru, if you're going to lecture me? Keep up!"
Truly, Otis was the only thing keeping them all together.
I am here to stan Reverse 1999 now. Been a good while since I've been so steadfastly convinced regarding the quality of a gacha's writing. Also every EN VA they've got is sicko and occasionally bilingual.
And thar. Took longer than it should've, but I've got my current angle figured out now.
What?
As he pulled the arrow out, leaving only a gaping hole where the bulb-shaped point had been, Belo’s eyes widened at what exactly he was seeing. The child, despite having shed so much blood, was still moving about. In real time, he watched as a scab formed within the gloom of the tunnel system, watched as the loss of blood from the open wound slowed, watched as they cried meekly, having wrested their mind away from unconsciousness. It was entirely inconceivable to him. There were grown men who would’ve keeled over from less than a quarter-sized hole in their body, but this gangly creature held on.
For a bit longer, at the very least.
Belo took in a deep breath, steadying himself. Even with the cries of the child, the ones that pursued them did not find them out yet. And, strangely enough, even without the sky and stars above him, even after being turned around so many times within the dense foliage, he had a clear sense of where they were, relative to the beach. Those pale-skinned soldiers had come from the sea, their vessels too grand, too well-built to belong to the ones that he shared a similar visage to. He would have to go further in-land then, away from the coast. And as for the one that was with him…
With his sword, he cut strips of bandages off the sleeves and the hem, tying it best he could around the child. The length of rope that he had with him was turned into a harness. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but with it, he could secure the child on his back, or swap them to his front. Whichever the situation needed. Whichever would be better for letting his own body be a shield, rather than the child. There were strange fortunes afoot, regardless. He was tired, but he recovered quickly. He was in pitch-black, and yet could still see well enough to navigate. He knew nothing about this new world that the spirit had deposited him in, and yet he still somehow knew where he was. If he closed his eyes, if he calmed his mind, he even gained awareness of something else.
He was gripped by a certainty. A certainty that a storm was brewing.
Putting on the child-carrying harness and ignoring the sticky dampness of blood and urine, Belo took in another deep breath, drew his sword, and continued into the darkness of the tunnels, his pace entering that of a light jog as he searched for…
For what?
An underground community with medical supplies and friendly inhabitants would be good, but an exit from the tunnels back to the surface would be acceptable too. If there were fishing villages and pirate-murderers, there would be civilization too. There would be forges for smithing steel, there would be lumber mills for processing wood, there would be farmers and butchers, craftsmen and doctors.
Other tribes, he could hope, who could foster a child.
Other tribes, he could hope, who would be willing to join him in his counterattack.
“Hm.”
Otis, if nothing else, observed the decorum of the question-and-answer, allowing the two to finish speaking completely as he mulled over their response. Politics weren’t uncommon, and he had already expected the majority of factions across Castalia to be dipping their fingers into the pockets of Wingram Academy, gradually peeling and teasing away at merit in order to replace it with nepotism. There was the mention of the board of directors, that instrument of idiocy and vested interests, and the Principal herself appeared to be moving outside the bounds of the academy.
And, of course, there could be no clearer indication of a bullheaded desire for violence and domination than to take the true nexus of Wingram’s artificial leylines, the power spot in which the most ambient essence was present…and seal it off, only unlocking it when two idiots wanted a fight to the death.
“They still turn to war for solutions.” The Strigidae let out a sigh, clearly communicating that he wasn’t about to pull his gun and just kill his way in. It would be worthwhile to speak with that janitor, that ‘Michael’. They had appeared near the end of the entrance examination. “I suppose I shall appeal to the Principal then. Thank you for your time.”
And then, just as quickly, he turned around, amber gaze honing in on the one behind him.
“Valen Leuvalt.” The flame-haired heir’s gaze was cold, but Otis’s was simply bereft of any emotion. “I wish to enter the tower. Will you invite me in as a guest? Or do you not have the authority to do so?” Well, once it started, of course it'd keep going. "And setting that aside, I'm curious too about the Ascendis Trial that you presumably were invited to. Did it take place in the proving grounds as well, or was it largely just a formality owing to prior merit and influence? What was the experience like too, handling the majority of the prospective students? I imagine that you'd have utilized a Hexagrammic Fortress spell in order to withstand their attacks, but that feels like a simple solution to the unique problems that Ethos are wont to present. Unless, of course, your own exists simply to create an inviolable territory between yourself and others, which I'd admit seems appropriate given the character you have performed, but that seems more as if I'm working backwards from the answer now."
He tilted his head to the side. So far to the side his ear touched his shoulder, his gaze unflinching all the while.
"A pity, really, that we walk at different speeds."
Otis had been gone before Valen had emerged to join the brawl. And Otis had arrived on foot, even after a detour, before Valen had reached the steps of his own home. With all this, it was unlikely they would ever be side-by-side. It would be best that they only crossed paths.
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