Actual update post will be on Monday since I have recovered a bit.
OwO
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Maive thought it was a good thing that she helped Verity back up. With the toad landing on where they once were, Verity would have, at best, eaten the things that the toad's landing kicked up. Her thoughts were quickly dashed when she looked back and saw Victor being struck by the toad and Sofia being grabbed by the tongue.
Doubts clouded Maive's mind.
Should she have gone to help Victor pick Sofia up?
Would Verity be fine if she did?
What if she warned everyone that the pier was slippery?
Had she not tripped and dragged everyone with her?
Her pulse quickened. A nervous and stressed heat bubbled over her. She felt herself about to cry once again.
Are you snivelling in the face of another tragedy?
Crying seems to be what you do the most.
A voice resounded through her mind. Maive clenched her fists in response, her nails leaving imprints on her palm.
If you truly care for those around you...
Wouldn't you be more than a servant left to fate?
Concern does not solely lie within compassion.
You should know this.
I am thou, thou art I...
Shall we avert this tragedy together?
Maive's voice first came as a mumble.
"I cry..."
Her voice became louder.
"Not just now... Every night."
Finally, she was practically yelling.
"I just want to see my family!"
Maive's arm stretched towards the toad beast that swallowed Sofia. Her eyelids squeezed out every last tear that had welled.
"Persona!"
A torrent of wind spun around Maive and made her loose-fitting clothes flutter. Electricity crackled off her skin, power barely being restrained.
Something appeared behind Maive as the winds coalesced into a physical form behind her: a cocoon of manifested gales. Once fully formed, the cocoon exploded and unleashed a forceful pulse. A ghostly figure obscured by a cloak of storms was now in full view. Its dour expression was hidden except for a single eye that looked upon the beast with contempt. Six ephemeral hands joined Maive as they pointed towards the toad beast.
Instinct took over Maive as she clenched her fist. The ephemeral hands vanished back into the winds rapidly converging upon the toad beast. Once again, the wind gained form: a hand as large as the toad beast. The wind assailed it from all sides, the newly-formed hand gripping the toad. It was an attempt at freeing Sofia by treating the toad as a squeeze toy.
I'm going to delay my next post until next week. Personal reasons.
Man, the smell of gas was a familiar one. It reminded Rin of the truck she rigged together. Though, "truck" was a bit of a misnomer. It was more of trailer that had half of a motorcycle strapped to it. It definitely wasn't road legal, but it let her haul bits and pieces around her family junkyard. It always smelt like gasoline. You know, she loved that thing. It made her life a whole lot easier. Such a shame when it finally caught fire.
Like a catapult that had its restraining rope cut, she shot up from her collision-induced slumber having instantly gulped down her sick. The smell of gas was a good thing when she was working on vehicles. It was considerably less good when she remembered that she was on a school bus. The crash had put her on a floor. She always took a seat next to the aisle near the rear. She didn't like being trapped by another person.
Her bag of tools had, thankfully, been saved from the brunt of the impact. It was a tough bag that Rin made herself. She wanted a bag that could hold pounds and pounds of tools without so much as a stress mark. What she ended up with was a thick behemoth of nylon, polyethylene, and enough plastic clips to keep the bag shut no matter what.
Though, this bag was also a curse. It being permanently attached to her meant that she had a wicked bruise from her shoulder, across her chest, and to her hip. It was like a bruise from a seat belt. Something that she now sort of wished buses had more of.
Her backpack full of her dailies that didn't fit in her pockets had found its way to the front of the bus. Well, not like she'd miss anything in there. Just some schoolwork--something she only vaguely cared about--and other boring things.
Of course, there was a hidden blessing to this disaster.
Rin finally got to open the emergency exit.
The emergency exit was always something that tantalized Rin. There was just something so hypnotic about it. It was the forbidden fruit of the door industry. Something that tantalizing couldn't escape her interests. Incidentally, that's why Rin sat near the back of the bus. Just for that opportunity to open an emergency door. She'd even watch tutorials on how to open them. A strange fixation, but a fixation none the less.
Even though Masato had yelled for Kondo to open the rear, Rin was already at the door with proverbial spit on her hands. She grabbed the latch and put her entire body into it. Her bamboo shoot arms and legs meant nothing when she had knowledge of levers and was currently converting her body into one. Give her a large enough rigid beam and fulcrum and she'd move the world. She'd open this door and skedaddle on out with a full send. Twice the exits, twice the amount of throughput. She'd leave it up to the other back of the bus kids to bring out other people. She had her bag and was doing the door.
Unfortunately, this deep interest also meant that Rin didn't bark orders for the other kids to get up and out. She was dead set on opening the rear exit.
Fortunately, the Ito twins had begun to recover from their impact induced confusion. They were sportsmen. Hearty in the body. They could handle being hit. Well, Kunio could for sure. His childhood was as a crash test dummy. The other one? He had a good skull. As resident frontsitters, they attempted to help bring the more disoriented front of the bus kids out.
Kumi's large stomach proved to be a weakness. She let out her sick against the wall. If it was any solace, the smell was covered by gas and it would be purged by a blaze of petrol and cinders when she safely left the bus.
One would hope.
@OwO Why can't our characters touch the carpet with theirbare skin??!!
It's gross theatre carpet that was designed with stain hiding patterns.
Characters can touch it if they want. They just have to live with the knowledge they touched something that is very much sticky.
Okay, the actual update. If Emma wants to ask a question, I'll edit it in.
This time around, feel free to do whatever. If you want to go forwards, I'll update you as fast as possible (to mirror your character actually going forwards). Consider this a tutorial on exploration. A very, very brief tutorial.
This time around, feel free to do whatever. If you want to go forwards, I'll update you as fast as possible (to mirror your character actually going forwards). Consider this a tutorial on exploration. A very, very brief tutorial.
"With your questions answered, I shouldn't hold you much longer." Mel announced and gave a clap. "If you need anything, you all know how to call me. Or ask Honest. She's touched most things in our storage."
...
The trip to Littown was uneventful. The four cleaners had been ushered into a small van by Honest who had taken the wheel.
The streets of the 10th district were claustrophobic as always. While the roads were once wide, buildings and makeshift living spaces encroached on the sidewalks, then further dipped into the roads. Only small vehicles could drive within populated areas. The main roads were better if you were willing to share the roads with haulers carrying petrochem and raw materials between factories. Most people used the subways and monorails to get around the district.
As Honest drove the group, it was easy to tell gauge the distance to Littown. Bustling streets turned to mothers ushering their children inside. Lonely roads gave way to outright abandoned lengths. A desiccated corpse lay on the side of the road, the only notable landmark within minutes of driving. Honest's choice in radio station didn't help the emptiness. Silence was her music. She said it was something that she had good reason for, but she never elaborated on why she always turned the radio off.
Littown was an especially sad part of the 10th district. It had once been named after the hundreds of neon signs that had gave life to a vibrant part of the city. The lights had since been shut off as austerity policies had tightened the average citizens' discretionary spending. What was once a block designed to entertain and relieve citizens was now completely abandoned. Not even the squalid enjoyed being within the area. There was nothing left save for broken signs, boarded buildings, and the dark. The theatre was no exception as Honest parked the van outside.
In one fell swoop, Honest had left the van, walked up to the front door, and kicked it in.
"After you." She sarcastically announced as she waited for the cleaners to enter.
Something wrong could be sensed immediately upon entering the building.
A muffled sound of an accordion emanated throughout the lobby but was inaudible outside. The building was a threshold. A boundary between the supernatural and the rational. This was both good and bad. The good was that this meant that the supernatural was isolated to the building. The bad was that there was definitely something supernatural inside this building.
The lobby itself seemed safe enough as long as they didn't touch the carpet with their bare skin. Most of the decorations had since been stripped from the building. The only remaining decorations were the posters: advertisements for a movie depicting the first hunter, a folk hero within the city. He was a historical figure, but it was difficult to tell where history ended and urban legend began. There was a large circular counter in the middle of the lobby. The door that Honest kicked in had been split in half. One side was on the floor in front of the counter while the other was behind. The halls left and right were both blocked off by collapsed sections of wall. That meant there were three paths forwards. The large closed doors across the lobby and a set of stairs on each of its sides.
Of course, the further within the lobby someone went, the louder the accordion became.
...
The trip to Littown was uneventful. The four cleaners had been ushered into a small van by Honest who had taken the wheel.
The streets of the 10th district were claustrophobic as always. While the roads were once wide, buildings and makeshift living spaces encroached on the sidewalks, then further dipped into the roads. Only small vehicles could drive within populated areas. The main roads were better if you were willing to share the roads with haulers carrying petrochem and raw materials between factories. Most people used the subways and monorails to get around the district.
As Honest drove the group, it was easy to tell gauge the distance to Littown. Bustling streets turned to mothers ushering their children inside. Lonely roads gave way to outright abandoned lengths. A desiccated corpse lay on the side of the road, the only notable landmark within minutes of driving. Honest's choice in radio station didn't help the emptiness. Silence was her music. She said it was something that she had good reason for, but she never elaborated on why she always turned the radio off.
Littown was an especially sad part of the 10th district. It had once been named after the hundreds of neon signs that had gave life to a vibrant part of the city. The lights had since been shut off as austerity policies had tightened the average citizens' discretionary spending. What was once a block designed to entertain and relieve citizens was now completely abandoned. Not even the squalid enjoyed being within the area. There was nothing left save for broken signs, boarded buildings, and the dark. The theatre was no exception as Honest parked the van outside.
In one fell swoop, Honest had left the van, walked up to the front door, and kicked it in.
"After you." She sarcastically announced as she waited for the cleaners to enter.
Something wrong could be sensed immediately upon entering the building.
A muffled sound of an accordion emanated throughout the lobby but was inaudible outside. The building was a threshold. A boundary between the supernatural and the rational. This was both good and bad. The good was that this meant that the supernatural was isolated to the building. The bad was that there was definitely something supernatural inside this building.
The lobby itself seemed safe enough as long as they didn't touch the carpet with their bare skin. Most of the decorations had since been stripped from the building. The only remaining decorations were the posters: advertisements for a movie depicting the first hunter, a folk hero within the city. He was a historical figure, but it was difficult to tell where history ended and urban legend began. There was a large circular counter in the middle of the lobby. The door that Honest kicked in had been split in half. One side was on the floor in front of the counter while the other was behind. The halls left and right were both blocked off by collapsed sections of wall. That meant there were three paths forwards. The large closed doors across the lobby and a set of stairs on each of its sides.
Of course, the further within the lobby someone went, the louder the accordion became.
Lucian
~1440 | PARIS | FASHION SHOW VENUE
With his hands grasped by Celeste, Lucian was bombarded with the thoughts of someone who had a rational mind. At least, a mind that could see two facts and combine the two. Lucian's mind did not have these qualities. He was prone to having completely wrong understandings because his brain got stuck on specific things. Celeste mentioning the Holy Maiden was one of these scenarios.
"What? She doesn't have holes. People aren't cheese."
Good comprehension, Cheese Boy.
Of course, Celeste didn't have the time to correct him when things immediately went down. A torrent of plants had erupted from a now-wisp. Even Lucian could tell it was pretty bad. Unfortunately, the dragon blocked Lucian from seeing Edward going hard or Vera moments away from getting smoked. As a result, Lucian was saddled with the unfortunate truth of a rampant wisp and fire-breathing dragon: they were still in the middle of a room filled with normal people. Wisps had a tendency of harming normal people. That was bad. Lucian, in his surprising wisdom, knew that he had to help them.
"Hey universe, give me a sign to help these people." He brutishly clasped his hands together in a prayer; Celeste's hands were dragged alongside.
The universe responded.
A flash of light from Edward's attack pierced through the skeletal dragon's frame, a consequence of its holey nature. It was for a brief moment, but it illuminated a small red lever that had been hidden in the corner.
"Oh cool."
Immediately, Lucian yanked on the fire alarm that had nestled itself in the corner with Celeste attached to him in some weird ballroom dance.
Oop, started a post but my brain shut down towards the last bit of it, so will finish tomorrow evening after work! Feel free to move us ahead if that was the plan though, I can play catch up and make a bigger post.
I'll update tomorrow then. I've been in a fog all week.
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