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

[amos_moses]

Oh. Oh fuck she's dead. Undead. Whichever.

Amos is barely able to mask his reflexive grimace, because dead things should stay dead and not get up and wander around to pester the living, because dead things are gross and slimy and the whole decay thing just really...yeah, no. He's never seen an undead fae-kind, so that's a bit of a novelty...

He manages to keep his smile up, which is good because...wait do the same rules apply if the fae-sort is undead? Hopefully so and he won't end up dead, made into a thrall, or otherwise enchanted. This weird day would suck even worse if he ended up enchanted on top of not knowing where he is.

"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to get in your way, ma'am. I was just...trying to see if anyone else was around. It's pretty empty here..." Licking his lips, Amos glances at the horse. Is it dead too? Or just a spell-creature? Either way he's only getting the faintest impression of an equine mind, even standing so close to it. Not even hazy kinds of thoughts, more like...ghosts of thoughts.

Can you hear me? he thinks at Havoc, the telepathic message carefully focused.

[miscreant]

While Seviilia is hardly a pretty sight, the cold seems to have done nice things for her. The points of her ears are rotted and messily pieced together in certain places and her fingers have clearly been exposed to a touch of similar treatment. There's no ooze or slime -- in fact, though her skin is a tinge of hypothermic blue, she could almost be considered a creature of ice rather than something once living. Her wispy hair ruins the illusion.

"You were not in my way. Yet," Seviilia replies, neutral but not without threat. And, while she had some semblance of control over Havoc, she does not appear to be privy to Amos' attempts to communicate with her mount.

But Havoc's mind was born equine, and so the message does not fall on deaf ears. They flick beneath the plate armor and Havoc twists more attentively in his direction, neck outstretching in an attempt to discover who was speaking to him. There's obvious curiosity, without wariness.

His reaction draws Seviilia's attention, a frown crossing her features.

[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?"

[miscreant]

Havoc whickers shortly in return, but its an awful sound -- an ethereal echo covers it, much like Seviilia's own voice. But he takes the invitation while Seviilia watches from her post like a hawk, expression altering between suspicion and confusion. Rarely did Havoc pay attention to anything but her -- no doubt due to his manner of resurrection, at least half construct while the rest was the animal he was born into.

"Havoc," she answers in kind, clearly at least a little confused. Its difficult to conceive that someone was able to communicate with her Deathcharger, let alone that someone would want to. "Are you speaking to my horse?"

[amos_moses]

Amos nods in response. "I talk to animals. He's a little hard to hear, though...not sure if it's 'cause he's enchanted or undead." Things get tricky when magic and the walking dead are involved. He steps closer to run his hand down Havoc's neck, smiling a little. It's not the best feeling in the world, given Havoc's cold as his mistress, but it's a remembered gesture for the horse.

It's dangerous here. Watch out for her, he tells Havoc, though quite certain the war-horse is well-accustomed to danger.