hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Arm Yourself

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Intro Log: Arm Yourself

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for August
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: August 10th-15th
Warnings: Stalkers, newbies, and cute loot!

Sleeping on the cold dirt ground of the colosseum is enough to make anyone uncomfortable. It might be a little worse this month than others, as some of you may be waking up on top of or around various self defense devices (btw: that last one is a taser).

Come to think of it, you'll probably need those. Also in the colosseum and already stalking you are... uh, well, stalkers from the Borderlands game series. Stalkers come armed with claws, teeth, and sharp tails- and what's more, they can turn invisible to sneak up on you. Zap them with your newfound taser or stab them with your jewelry comb knife or just run away screaming- we won't judge, but you have to do something or else they'll kill you and eat your corpse and all sorts of unfortunate things.

Good luck finding a way out. Maybe you can make some friends along the way.

All done and escaped from the clutches of the colosseum? Awesome! Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers August 10th-15th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

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[Decades? She doesn't look older than twenty. There's something fishy here, unless she started training the minute she was born.

Again, Rashid doesn't dwell on it long as another monster decides to appear out of nowhere.]

The invisibility novelty is wearing off really fast!

[He kicks up another whirlwind to throw it off balance.]

I can do things nobody else can. I know things no one else does.

[He locks eyes with Sandor and there's a moment where his mind, an ancient and powerful thing, brushes up against Clegane's. He's in there just for a moment, long enough to see his surface thoughts. So much rage in there. What a shame his cousin Tanaros isn't here. Sandor is one of his, the sort driven by anger. Ushahin prefers those broken down and who have cracks of madness in their thoughts.]

I can see inside your head, Hound.

"The nearest shops are not far. You may take what you need. There is no one who will condemn you for stealing." Ushahin certainly hasn't thought twice about the

"They don't come into the city often, but there have been a few occasions. It's glorious." That's probably not the reaction most people would have, but his realm lies in the one of dreams and nightmares. Anything that unnerves people tends to be something he is fascinated by.

Shit, she tends to forget the name thing.

"Rey. Never 'Miss'. Just sounds weird."

After a couple seconds studying his expression, she reminds herself of the social norms that is the common handshake; her grip is firm.

[He perks up at the sudden offer.]

City guard? Please do go on.

[If it's a way to keep people safe, he's down for it.]

[ She is hardly the last person Wanda would expect here, but there is a strange sense of relief when she detects the familiar presence, and the voice that accompanies it. She would not call Natasha soothing, but this is what it is. ]

That it takes not only from different worlds, but different times. It is not wise to ask too much of one who knows the future, is it?

Most sensible people do not, I think--and I certainly share the sentiment... [He still remembers the time one of the gods manipulated him into attacking an innocent woman. She forgave him quickly, being able to see that the ice alien was under Rage's sway, but remembering the fright and pain that he caused before he came to his senses is always going to cause Glacius' hearts to ache.]

In any case. This place could use more people like you--people willing to stand up to the gods, people committed to making it better. [Seeing how quickly Rashid is able to commit to that causes a strange pang within Glacius. It took him a long time just to start working over his wariness of humans and reveal his presence openly to people, and he only just recently actively committed himself to their aid by joining the guard. But then their circumstances are likely very different; he doubts the man was subject to humanity's judgment and cruelty like he was. It is always easier to get along with your own, or so it seems. Shaking his head a little to dispel these musings, the alien refocuses on Rashid.] I admit, I am surprised that you are... so ready to jump to that. Most people require more time to adjust to life in this place. But if you are not easily shaken, well... that too will serve you well here.

[To L, the first name is mundane and common, the surname identifiable as German in origin based on its pronunciation. If he knew that "Luke" was a popular character in a huge franchise in some worlds, or that "Landau" was just one diphthong away from the different but similar "Lando," he might have chosen something else. As it is, he's committed, and as long as he's in this strange city, it won't be suspicious as long as it's consistent.]

Earth?

[L sounds surprised by the man's decision to specify that. He appears human, after all, and it stands to reason that that's where all humans come from.]

I wasn't aware that we were quite so far from home. What reasons do you have to believe that we're not in a location that's on Earth, but unknown to us?

[He isn't outright claiming that it's impossible, just eliminating the obvious and childishly simple answers as a starting point. When Bruce goes on to explain that they are trapped, however, a shadow falls over his pale, doll-like features. He doesn't like that one bit.]

We're prisoners, then. How unfortunate that escape artists don't seem to be brought here with the same regularity as the rest of us.

[There's little variation in "Luke's" tone, but a slight dryness suggests that he's unimpressed with the efforts of those who have come before him.]

[Though "dead" is usually a good descriptor for the glassy, dark eyes that sit in L's blank, pale face, they flash now with kinetic, accusatory energy. He is shocked, but rarely for him, he is also angry. Furious, even, staring at the girl who has the nerve to both retreat from him and tell him that he's dead.

While he remembers his heart stopping, crashing to the tile gracelessly, and melting out of consciousness and life, he knows that he isn't dead. His heart is beating as strongly as it ever did, his mind is as sharp as it was when he was at his best. The breaths he draws are shallow and quick, but they invigorate him. His clear state of living makes a liar out of her, even if the lie seems to terrify her. If she'd thought he was dead...

That could be possible. If I was resuscitated later, and have no memory of it, Misa Amane would hardly be the first person to know...

...but that doesn't explain why she looks older.]

Disappointed? I suppose the second Kira would be. I'm so sorry to spoil your day.

[The words are pure acid and venom, but the monster is advancing again. Though Misa is dangerous if she is the second Kira, the stalker is probably the more imminent threat.]

River smiles. A head wound; this poor soldier doesn't know the half of it. "I'm fine, then. No new injuries. Nothing unusual to see here."

"What are the rules? Everything has rules." Especially organized things like the guard. She's curious but not exactly interested in joining. She doubts she could hold a position such as that, even if anyone trusted her enough to try her out in one. "Met another guard earlier. Blue, icy veins, nice things to say. An alien."

Another step forward then. Not too close; she's trying, actively trying to keep her mind on if she is being too much, too close, too loud, too weird this time around. Usually it's a thread amongst many in the tapestry that fills her mind's eye, but right now?

He has a good feeling about her and she is full of feelings. Mostly good, some warm, a few nervous, but good. Mostly. Very good.

Then Steve calls her name pretty, and does a name translate to a girl in total? It's a question, and her eyes dart away but she's obviously pleased, and now a little flushed. "It's worth a lot. Sweet chocolate maybe, or honey in tea. Thank you."

[Nick said he wouldn't go to the Colosseum. He's in no condition to do so this month -- not after last month and the deathclaws it brought in. And yet, he finds himself in that area, all because of something he heard while sweeping the streets, something he absolutely couldn't ignore: a voice, one distinctly tinny... artificial. It was a voice unlike his own, one far more like the second-generation synths of the Institute. It was one thing that set him apart from them.

And despite this strange voice's artificial quality, there's something that sets it apart, as well. It's undeniably synthetic -- a tone he recognizes only because of his own mechanical nature and his experience with the less individualized synths -- but this one has far more inflection than the innumerable, interchangeable synths of the Institute. Either they learned some new tricks in his absence, or it's the more likely answer: another synth from another world. Hadriel has a few of them already.

But none he knows of that are quite like him, none so blatantly mechanical that they couldn't possibly pass for a human being. That's what draws Nick closer than he'd rather be to the Colosseum. Though his pace is slow, the shaft in his leg still giving him trouble, Nick manages to follow the voice as it echoes through the outer halls of the arena until he spots the source. Blatantly mechanical, indeed.

But also in need of help, if the way this other synth is flattened against the wall is an indicator. Nick scans the area quickly for any sign of danger -- monsters, as they always seem to come through the Door with the newcomers -- before making his way over. He keeps his voice down, just in case there's something nearby, something that might have spooked him already.]

Hey, you all right? We should get moving. Get you out of here.

Jayne never counted. No, everyone else had, though; poker nights with Wash and Book (and even Jayne to make things interesting); long talks with Kaylee in the engine room, her elbow-deep in the engine and reminding him of nothing so much as a surgeon as she nursed along the one thing keeping them all breathing. The occasional conversation with Inara, tea and civilization, a reminder of all the things he'd left behind, but not in a way that would leave him sad and longing. Even the captain; respected, if not loved. Being part of a crew. He'd miss that. But the most important part of all of that is still here, and that's what matters to him.

He isn't psychic, not like she is, but he does know her better than anyone. He knows what that look on her face means, and even as he sways to a sudden halt, obeying her signals, he's shaking his head. A short, sharp motion to accompany a simple answer that he believes wholeheartedly.

"This isn't your fault, mei-mei. I don't know what this is, but it isn't your fault."

None of it was ever her fault.

I cannot die.

[It's just beyond the limitations that his racial set-up puts on him.]

...Many people here are not normal humans.

[Maybe it is that?]

There's something unusual, Maketh is fairly certain, but she doesn't ask. There will be time for that later.

Besides, she doesn't want to be rude. There's no cause for it right now.

"Oh, that was Glacius. A good man." Maketh nods. Well, not human. But that doesn't matter as much as it used to. "We coordinate our patrols and assist when we are needed. We don't interfere with the others unless there is a problem that stems from violence. And we don't try to control the city."

[Maketh smiles.] It's a small group of people with either fighting or military experience. We coordinate our patrols, train together, and collect intelligence for the city.

There's a nod at Maketh's information. The guard sounds...rudimentary, but good.

"If there is an emergency?" How does she reach them? Does she just announce it to the city at large? "Do you protect the clinic?"

Simon's safety is important.

[ BIG SIGH. ]

I could use a late-night consoling with a peach-faced lovebird with a long glide a the beach, but I guess a hug will do for now.

[ Not that he expects a hug to make him feel better at all, but kids like hugs, don't they? ]

"So I'm the only bird around here then...?"

It's depressing to think that there wouldn't be other birds, but not surprising. Caves aren't the typical bird-friendly environment.

But according to this lady, they wouldn't have much of a choice. Like he didn't.

Damn, man. He hates magic.

[ He hops off his perch and lands near her feet, hopping a little to line himself up with her. Having to peer all the way up to look at her. ]

Y'all have any roasted duck or lamb chops? Not much of a veggie-bird but definitely fruits!

Actually, I won't be picky. I'm starving.

It takes him a moment to do the math. Harder to keep track of the passage of time on Serenity, without the seasons of a planet to guide you; he'd nearly forgotten his own birthday last year. "2518," he says finally, pretty certain that they're past the hump and into the new year. "And to be fair, not every planet in the system has diagnostic scanners, either. The Outer Planets typically have less resources. The Core is a little more...supplied." More civilized, he almost says, but that's not necessarily a compliment these days.

On approach to the clinic, Simon eyes the varying languages and the peaceful artwork of the exterior with approval. It looks well-maintained from the outside, at least; that's a good sign. "And death isn't permanent, you're telling me. Which is new, even for me. I'd be curious to examine someone who's been through a supposed resurrection, see if there's anything about their physiology that could show how..." He stops abruptly, before he wanders any further down the trail of medical exploration. After all, there's no journals to publish in, here. "Well. At any rate. Looks like you've made the clinic very easy to identify. That's good. You said your army doctor left, do you have other trained staff, or is it only you and some volunteers?"

Yes. [ Absolutely. Solas had always been distant and he certainly hadn't been close with the Inquisitor, given that they argued at so many crucial junctions along the way. Thom, though-- ] Rainier is a good man, even knowing what he did. I'm glad that he could be spared a death at the gallows, even if he wasn't pleased with me for it.

[ He'd accused her of corruption when she snuck him out, but she couldn't apologize for that. He was a crucial piece of their functioning. He was - is - one of them.

He'd forgiven her eventually, just as she'd forgiven him. ]

[ No. You know not what you do. This ego is inflatable like the Hindenburg. And it will crash and burn. ]

Well, you're not wrong. [ He fluffs those chest feathers. ] I don't want to brag, but I am a pretty fast flyer.

[ In all honesty, he hates the dark. It's hard to see and he might run into something. Or worse— ]

I mean, I'm no owl but if there's no other bird to get the job done, then...

[ Then the little voice in his head tells him he will immediately regret this. Because he is a total coward after all. ]

Unless there is another bird. Then maybe they should...

[ At the voice and at his approach, the Inquisitor offers a smile: small, amused, and warm. ]

I'm willing to bet that there's always a 'tiredness in my eyes.' [ She pats the seat next to her, perfectly happy to have company. If she'd really wanted solitude, she'd have escaped to the library, or a similar location. ] I'm glad I'm not stinking drunk, either, or I would be embarrassed to have you here.

[ He's so... formal, after all, and (by her estimation) proper in all things. He'd nearly killed her, yes, but that had been a while ago. Since then, they'd gotten to know each other a little better, and she respects his opinion. ]

Do you drink? [ She asks, rather than asking for his order directly. ]

[Glacius eyeballs the seat for a moment, then tentatively begins to lower himself down into it, trying to make himself fit--hopefully without it breaking under his weight. When he manages to settle and the furniture holds up underneath him, he returns his attention to Cecily.] I do, but... I am not sure if it would be appropriate for me to do so here. Even though I am separated from my world and my people, I still have a duty to them... and if my being under the influence of a substance allowed the dangers of this place to render me unable to see to it... well, that would not be prudent of me.

[It's another indication of just how disciplined and dedicated to his people Glacius can be... but it also probably gives away that he has no idea how to relax when displaced from what's familiar to him, even for a little bit. That he's wound so tight every hour of every day probably has a lot to do with the tiredness in his own eyes or the somewhat weary feeling he sometimes exudes--that he's exuding right now, in fact. He looks at Cecily, uncertainty in his eyes.]

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Intro Log: Arm Yourself

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ahhh sorry for tinytags!

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