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

[respired]

[She's unhappy; still frightened. Koltira wishes he didn't enjoy it so much. He looks away from her.]

I am sorry. But my armor--it's forged from the blood of old gods. It's not meant for the living.

[morphinum]

It's fine.

[ She barks, harsher this time. That's a good sign, though -- she's getting closer to her usual angry self. ]

I don't need any fucking pity.

[ Her eyes focus on him at last, perplexed. ] From the blood of -- what? You look pretty alive to me, or I'm crazier than I thought.

[respired]

It is not pity. It's a statement.

[He gestures to the bloody wound in his chest.]

There is no beating heart beneath this chestplate.

[morphinum]

[ Johanna looks at the wound properly for the first time. The blood is weird -- thick, black, and frankly, disgusting. Dead people don't usually walk around, but then again, she's never met someone with grey skin who wasn't from the Capitol. Johanna's not sure who the hell this guy is. Maybe some kind of mutation. ]

Well, shit. Congratulations for still being up and walking around, I guess. [ There's a bite of sarcasm in there. ]

They tell me I don't have a heart either, but that's a metaphor.

[respired]

I have a heart. It simply does not beat.

[He frowns at her irreverence.]

Your heart's noise is unceasing.

[morphinum]

[ She checks her pulse, more as a twisted kind of joke than anything else. ]

You're absolutely right. You think they'll let me out of the goddamn hospital? Their sedation's bullshit anyway, I've already built up quite the tolerance to most of their sissy painkillers.

[ She says, with a strange sort of pride. ]

[respired]

[He glances from her to their surroundings, then back again.]

I can't say there's even an infirmary here. Or even a 'they' to control your comings and goings.

that icon is so good

[morphinum]

[ She'll believe you about the infirmary part, but not the 'they.' Call her paranoid, if you must. You'd probably be right. ]

I wouldn't count on it. Nobody's ever safe. Somebody's always watching.

ikr

[respired]

[He shrugs; that's true enough, in his case.]

I spent many years under such a yoke. But it's not the pressing matter right now.

[He sits down with a heavy thump in the dirt, then holds out his hand.]

My boot.

[morphinum]

[ Johanna knows when she's beaten. She gives Koltira a long, hard glare, and then chucks the boot back at him, with all the strength she's got. It's a throw typically reserved for an axe.

She hopes it breaks his nose. ]

There. Happy?

[respired]

[He's not nearly so willing to take a boot to the face as he was to take an axe to the chest. He catches his armor handily, though he is impressed by the strength of her force.

He shrugs as he replaces the boot.]

No. But it is good that you saw reason.