INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for December. Watch your step!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: December 10th-17th
Warnings: Taxxon-related violence, teeth shoes, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.

You wake up in the dust of the colosseum with no shoes on, regardless of the state of your feet when you arrived. There's dust covering your clothing and in your hair, but other than that, there's no signs of injury or bruising. You're also not alone- nearby, there are others, either still passed out or just waking up like you are. Feel free to take solace in that fact. Or don't- some of you aren't human, and are clearly not great people either. No offense.

To your left, there is a door in the wall of the arena, supposedly leading to the halls which will then show you to your freedom. To your right, and scattered haphazardly on the ground, are a myriad of teeth shoes. These shoes might be better than going barefoot right now, but good luck finding a matching set, let alone one that fits you.

When you do eventually try to escape, be careful. The halls are crawling with Taxxons. Large and grotesque, these caterpillar-like creatures have circular mouths and multiple rows of sharp teeth. Their sense of smell is impeccable, and they will stop at nothing to feed when they scent blood. So, you know, try to avoid stepping on anything sharp on your way out.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers December 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► Characters may find their own shoes scattered around with the teeth shoes if you like.
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[miscreant]

[She's in the middle of kicking a pile of boots apart in a casual and lazy manner when Shiki speaks up. Her eyes fall to the boot immediately, and she can't help but narrowing her eyes a bit.

Of course someone else has decided to pick it up.]

Most likely.

[She wanders closer to get a better look, barefoot with her other boot under her arm.]

[amos_moses]

Amos scrambles back at two giant centipedes lunge past him, hands rising to press over his ears. It doesn't help dim the mental volume, the sheer overwhelming rush of the bloodlust and feeding frenzy, but some reactions are just automatic.

Gasping to catch his breath, feeling rattled between the ears, Amos puts up as much of a mental shield as he can, and reaches out to grab Kamina by the elbow. "They are. Move before they eat us!" He pulls, but he's a little dazed and definitely nowhere as big as Kamina: it probably doesn't have much effect.

[amos_moses]

"Oh," says Amos, looking now at Havoc, and takes a few steps closer, extending his hand held flat so the horse can sniff it, if he wants to. Amos has always liked animals of all sorts, and can't help but be drawn to them. He's not sure if that's a reflection of his ability to communicate with them, or just his own nature: it's hard to tell, sometimes. "You can hear me," he says, both aloud and mentally to Havoc. "I thought I felt something not-a-monster. Nice to meet you."

Glancing up at Seviilia, he tells her, "I'll try to stay out of your way, then, ma'am. What's his name?"

[barebacking]

I am very relieved that I have encountered someone who is so helpful!

[ He lightly claps his hands together. Applause, applause for the helpful young man. ]

[barebacking]

You're the second undead elf I have met. I wonder if that is something positive or not.

[ He tilts his head from side-to-side as though he is actually mulling it over. But isn't that just how it would be? To run into elves finally and not quite be like them? ]

I'm afraid that it is not. It looks ... different than anything that I have encountered. But the monsters and beasts that attempt to rend the flesh are familiar. Isn't that nice?

[barebacking]

[ Hm. Someone not to actually attempt to fight, then. The elf takes this time to wish that he had focused more on learning how to wield a sword proper than casting spells. There is something far more fun in thrusting a blade into a creature -- to feel the weight of the body upon the steel and the blood rush down metal onto hand. This conclusion he easily comes to as he watches the troll-like creature plunge those blades into the worm, in listening to those sweet screams erupt.

Of course, he could always take a blade to slide it between the ribs. Not this one. Not with that armor. And that is a lot different than in battle, anyway. He would need a lot of space. He would need to keep his distance. And with how fast that one moves, with how much agility that he has for such bulk, it would be very difficult to fight him without using a lot of tricks. He breathes out a small sigh of disappointed.

Yaha feels like he won't be able to force sweet compliments from his companion's bleeding mouth and that is something to lament, even as he tries to enjoy watching the battle before him. He decides to, at least, find himself on the other's good side by clapping his hands and giving small cheers. ]

Amazing, amazing! But it looks like it is coming, again! Be careful! [ Or at the very least, have your arm torn off so I can taste your flesh. ]

[morphinum]

Terror?

[ The word comes out as a bark, and Johanna laughs bitterly. The laugh comes out scratchy and completely like mirth, and in some ways, it's more of a curse than a real laugh. ]

You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, kid. This is nothing.

[ Her hands ball into fists, her knuckles white. ]

This place is really fucking hospitable compared to a death arena or, you know, torture chambers.

[ Hey, her doctor said she wasn't supposed to censor her thoughts. This is Johanna following professional medical orders. ]

Breaking into an empty building is easy. It'd be worse if there were people in it.

[morphinum]

[ Wow, okay, he took that seriously? This guy's got a special brand of crazy. It's entertaining, really, and Johanna's got no problem with exploiting it. She knows she's got a screw (or several) loose. It's why she's so nonchalant about the crazy thing, really. She feels more kinship towards the insane than the sane. ]

Damn, Rapunzel, you're fucking serious. Huh. I like that about you, though.

[ She flashes him a toothy grin. ]

Guess you've met a lot of fairies, huh. Hey, I'm not complaining. It's a damn good measure of how far off the deep end you are, and I can appreciate some bone grinding. Sounds like a great party activity.

[morphinum]

Johanna isn't put off by Beyond's laugh. It sounds disturbingly similar to her own, really. There are precious few experiences that give a person that kind of laugh, and clearly, Beyond's been through them. Johanna doesn't like Beyond. She doesn't like anyone, really. It's a matter of principle. But she is beginning to respect the man, just a little bit. She twirls the axe, giving Beyond a thin-lipped grimace. "You know, it usually does make me feel better. I'll have to take you up on that sometime. You're pretty lucky, kid. The world must really want you." She sneers. The world doesn't want Johanna Mason, so she keeps herself alive just to spite them.

"I never said it was," she says, harsh. "I was talking about the Games. You know. Fights to the death as a mean of population control. Really great fun. You should try it sometime, test that theory of getting killed. They take place in fucking arenas like this one."

Johanna is ready for war. Johanna has been fighting a war her whole life. "War? That's nothing new." She looks back to the sky, and shouts again. "Bring it, assholes!"

[morphinum]

[ Johanna can see the man gearing up for some kind of attack, and likewise prepares herself. She draws an axe. It's a battle axe, crafted specifically for murder, and Johanna's is literally a professional axe murder. She's itching for a fight, truthfully.

She rolls out of the way of the chains, then brings her axe down on them in an attempt to break them. If the chains shatter, she'll turn onto the man, swinging that axe faster than most people couldn't imagine.

And if the chains don't break?

Then Johanna's in for something much, much more dangerous. But she isn't going to give up the fight. She can stop fighting when she's dead. ]

[morphinum]

[ She twirls said axe, and if the soldier is familiar with axe warfare, then he'll know that she's getting some momentum to throw that sucker. Hard. Hard enough to kill a man, or at least take off a limb, which is exactly what she aims to do if he decides to fuck with her. ]

Depends on what? You're not very specific.

[ Her voice is taunting, teasing, as if she enjoys this. And she does. She enjoys antagonizing people very much. ]

[followorders]

[Locus has been a mercenary for far too long to fall for such obvious tactics. He's a sniper, he excels at keeping his cool under fire, so this little show does little for him.]

If you plan on throwing that axe.

ii

[followorders]

[Tatrand? He's never heard of it.]

Hope? Is he a native?

[Maybe he should find him and interrogate him instead.]

ii

[followorders]

[He keeps the gun raised.]

Who are you?

[followorders]

[He follows the conversation only to gather information and when they start moving, Locus invokes his invisibility cloak and follows behind, at a distance.]

3!

[dangerous_dog]

Bob Saginowski is one of the batch who arrived a month ago, and with him came one devoted little pitbull. Rocco is an interesting case; he's a good dog, he truly is, but he's had a very hard life. The less said about his first owner, the better. His time since with Bob was good, initially, but has since involved considerably fewer soft nights cuddled in front of the TV and walks to throw sticks down by the harbour, and more running from monsters and the acrid smell of fear, and too little food, not much of it meant for dogs.

All the same, the little dog's thoughts are mostly affection and devotion, obvious from the way he presses in against Bob's heels while they walk. He tucks close enough, with his tail low enough that by the time Amos comes up, Bob is already bending to scoop him into his arms rather than keep tripping on his leash.

[friendlyforce]

Turn right.

[ Caboose immediately stops to stare at the roads. ] Is that my right or your my right? [ The rifle goes quiet as it tries to translate the question. ]

I'm glad we're away from the worms. They... they weren't great. I don't think that Simmons would like them, either. I think. Or is it some other thing that crawls on the ground? [ A beat. ] I, I don't know. I should ask him. [ Another moment of silence. ]

Freckles, you'd be able to find them if you looked, right? [ He lifts the rifle up toward the area. ] Could you look for them? [ Another moment of silence. ] I shall make a thermal sweep. [ The AI sounds almost sounds sad at how confused Caboose is. There is a brief pause as it starts its thermal scan. ]

houseguests!

[zen_en_vert]

[When Bruce hears yelling, he immediately sticks his head out of the clinic window- his first thought is that someone is being attacked by someone.

When he sees the look on the newcomer's face, his shoulders settle, and he smiles.]

Hello!

[Welcome to Hadriel.]

Colosseum

[zen_en_vert]

[Bruce isn't actually inside. He's not suicidal, thank you- although actually the real danger is more to do with him getting hit with something, hulking out and taking out the whole damn building and everyone in it.

He contents himself with waiting outside with a first aid kit, for incoming wounded or news of incapacitated bodies inside. He lifts his hand in a greeting, and runs towards the door as soon as he sees someone coming out.]

Are you hurt?

[followorders]

[Locus steps forward into visual range, dropping the cloak.]

let's party

[greywaren]

Ronan folds his arms as he watches the display. The teeth shoes are fucked up enough, but the fact that this guy is actually wearing them is something else all together. He'd originally came down to see if there were any familiar faces here, from Harborview or Henrietta, and while he's disappointed to not see any, the fact that there are fucking teeth shoes as well as apparent murder caterpillars is enough to make him hang around, if only to see how people deal with them.

After a few minutes, he can't take it anymore. Ronan heaves a sigh and makes his way out toward where the older man is jogging around, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

"The fuck are you doing? Seeing if they work for a fucking track meet?"

[barebacking]

You like me? I am most touched to hear those words.

[ He offers a kind smile in return as he keeps digging through the shoes. No, no. Why give this pile without allowing him to find what he could trade to receive his heeled one? ]

I met a few. They're all the same, however. [ A beat. ] You think that I am mad? Have you truly not met any faeries? I suppose that you do not live by the wood. Have people really started to believe they do not exist?

[friendlyforce]

Hostile detected. Preparing--

[ As he is all alone without a plan and without Agent Washington or Carolina, he immediately pulls the rifle up. ] No, no, bad Freckles. Please, don't shoot the bad and scary man.

[ The rifle cools in his hands as he lowers it. Pulling one hand free, he waves. ] Hello. Have you seen my friends? Or have you kidnapped them? Could you kidnap me, too? I am just feeling... I don't know what to do now... Freckles wants me to go to a house I don't know and take a nap. And I think that'd be all right, but then I don't know which right is the right-right.

[ Long pause. ] Oh. Wait. We're at war. Yeah, I guess so. [ But how to be in a war? He takes a second before attempting his best Sarge voice. ] So, uh, tell me where they are, dirtbag! Or else! Arrgh. I'm not a pirate.

[amos_moses]

Amos can tell, as he gets closer, the poor dog is rather discouraged and tired and hungry, but of course loyalty holds firm. As is his habit, Amos 'announces' his presence with the mental equivalent of calling out from around the corner before he comes into view: very few animals are ever startled by Amos coming around the corner. He doesn't like startling anyone: startled people and animals tend to bite first and ask questions later.

Hey, friend, he greets the dog, the thought clear and gentle. Rough place, huh?

After a careful glance at the man and determining he doesn't look overly dangerous, magical, or inhuman, Amos wanders closer and drops down into a crouch, the better to be on Rocco's level, and offers the dog a hand to sniff, if he wants to. The Bob, he says: "Hi. Nice dog."

[followorders]

[The blue simulation trooper. The one who acquired the Mantis Class Military Assault Droid whose matrix now inhabited his gun thanks to Dr. Grey. Locus had studied him along with the rest of his comrades even when Felix wrote them off as worthless. He knew better to than to underestimate his enemies, even the stupid ones.]

I have no reason to fight you.

[Not anymore, and to emphasize his point, he lowers his gun.]