hadriel_logs | INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

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INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

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!

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a.

[Coming awake sets all of Triela's nerves on high alert. There's dust in her waist length pigtails... Has she been here for some time? She smells the air. Something foul...

Being kidnapped scares her, in a bad way. It takes her back to a time she doesn't even properly remember or fully comprehend — but she knows that she was taken once before, and brutalized... But this time, she thinks grimly, I can protect myself. She's been granted her shotgun by her captors, at least — seems strange, but she's not going to complain — and she won't let herself be harmed.

More importantly, there's someone else she should be protecting, even above herself. She's looking for him now, concerned to the point that sweat beads on her forehead, and she feels like hyperventilating, but she has to be stronger than that.] Hilshire? [she asks the air, scanning for him, needing him.] Sir?!

[No sign.

The shoes all around make this place seem pretty screwed up, and Triela wrinkles her nose. What a freakshow... It's kind of making her jumpy. A noise spooks her and she flinches in place, whirling to the left and aiming with her shotgun at the same time. Luckily, she doesn't pull the trigger. It's just another person... Seems like several others are waking up here. Great, Triela thinks, civilians. There's no time to deal with civilians when she has to find Hilshire.

But she lowers her gun slowly.]

b.

[Civilians! Triela ends up thinking again, this time when huge, monstrous worms are blocking her exit and clearly trying to eat her. This is some sort of nightmare, or a really messed up fairy tale, right? Since when does stuff like this happen in real life? But it's definitely happening: all her senses are assaulted by the fear in this situation. Damn it!

The 'civilian' in question ends up shoved out of the way with one hand. This girl is way stronger than she looks — a human of normal strength will end up reeling backwards. Then Triela is in front of them, and she quickly takes aim — accurate aim — and fires with her shotgun. It hits one of the creature's eyes.

Now it seems pissed.]

Crap! [she hisses. Seven shots left. There are a lot of these things and only so many bullets...]

c.

[Safely out of the colosseum, Triela's still got a big problem: she can't find her handler Hilshire. She's been looking around for him for hours now instead of settling down — but how can she settle down when she needs him? And he needs her! If he's here, he could be hurt or in danger... If he's not here, those concerns still apply. Being apart from him is agony, and she's not equipped to handle this sort of stressor.

The phone she'd found on her person turns out to be useless, too. She dials Hilshire's number, but it's not just that he doesn't answer... The call doesn't even connect. She dials several desks at the SWA, too, but the same thing happens when she tries that. There's nothing... She has no idea she is, she has no idea where her handler is, and... It's scary here.

Triela looks like a lost little girl, eyes gone all big with concern and stress... Her hair is mussed and dusty, and she's barefoot. She'd probably look pitiful if not for the big shotgun slung over her shoulder. Still, even that attribute might be offset by the fact that she looks like she might start crying.]

Crap, [she mumbles, rubbing one of her eyes.] Ammunition...

[ Arya hasn't seen many children here. There were two other young ones, in the early days, but Arya suspects they're dead. She hasn't seen them in over two months. She isn't surprised, though. Most children are weak.

This child looks weak, too. Their eyes are so wide; they look so lost. Arya doesn't think it's a lie -- this child has "new blood" written all over her. Arya would be quick to dismiss this girl, except there's something very, very interesting strapped to the stranger's back.

This girl is armed. Well, at least she's doing one thing right.

Arya stands at the opposite end of the street, sword drawn. She isn't close enough for melee combat, but she's prepared, should it come to that. ]

You must make your own weapons here. The gods will not give us any until they resurrect Rage.

[ She says, matter-of-fact. ]

[Seeing a young girl here is a little less shocking to Triela than one might think — she's more comfortable around people that age than she is with anyone else. On the other hand, she's not used to socializing with "normal" children...

...Though a child with a sword could hardly be called normal. Triela frowns, instantly losing her sad atmosphere.]

Yeah? Did you make that sword, then? [she asks, too close to irritable, before blushing at herself, embarrassed by her own snappishness. She doesn't really understand all this about gods or whatever — doesn't really believe in any god she's learned of — but she likes kids, and is put out with herself for speaking even a little harshly towards one. Get it together, she tells herself.]

Wow. Sorry. I... Um, do you know where I can find, maybe, rock salt, in that case?

A girl's brother did.

[ Arya retorts, sharply. Needle's all she's got left of home, of family. She isn't going to let someone talk down to her about Needle, not even another 12-year old girl. Arya hasn't talked to anyone her age for a long, long time, and to be honest, she's practically forgotten how. She knows she can come off as unlikable, but she just doesn't care. ]

There's a beach. You could try that. There are all kinds of rocks by she shoreline. [ She's cold, but it's not personal against the other girl. She just doesn't trust easily. Perhaps the other girl can understand. ]

[A brother, huh... Triela smiles, equal parts sad, bitter, and fond. It's good for a kid to have a brother, especially one who gives her gifts and keeps her protected. Triela can't help but wonder if this girl is like her — is it normal for brothers to arm their little sisters? She doesn't really know, but probably not. So, maybe in order to try and warm that coldness up a little, Triela says,] My brother gave this to me, too. [She hefts the shotgun and looks at it with real love in her eyes, before glancing back up at the girl before her.] You don't really see a lot of swords these days, though...

Uh, thanks, though. I guess I could give it a shot. Better to try than not, right?

[ Her brother is dead. They're all dead. Jon was sent to the Wall, Robb was slain at his wedding, and Theon Turncloak killed Bran and Rickon. And even if they were alive, they wouldn't be her brothers. She is no one, merely a servant of the Many-Faced God, and has no home. No family.

Her heart twists despite herself, though, when the other girl shows Arya her weapon. The other girl still has a family, somewhere, and Arya hopes that the girl doesn't lose it. ]

Take care of your weapon, then, because it's your home when you no longer have one.

[ All anyone can do is try. ]

Do you know where the beach is? I can show you.

I think that's good advice, [Triela says, with a real smile. She feels the expression more than she has during any of the rest of her day here so far. Yeah, a girl with a brother and a weapon is someone she can deal with, even if everything else is daunting.

The offer, too, feels good. Being alone here has been... uncomfortable...] I don't know where it is. I haven't been around much yet... If you have the time, I'd really appreciate it.

I'm Triela, by the way. These are bad circumstances, but it's nice to meet you.

[ Arya doesn't smile back, but her gaze softens. She doesn't trust the girl, but she doesn't see her as much of a threat, either. At least, not right now. Arya thinks she might be a good person, maybe. ]

I have the time. It's important to be armed at all times; to be as safe as possible. Everything else comes after that.

[ Arya turns, and starts off in the direction of the lake. Triela. It's a strange-sounding name, but Arya likes it. There's a certain cadence that she can appreciate. ]

Nymeria.

[ It's not technically her name, because she's not supposed to have one anymore. But it's what the people of this city call her, so Triela can call her that too, if she likes. ]

It's nicer here than lots of other places. [ The people, for one, are kinder. This is far better than Westeros. ]

[The shoved civilian in question happens to be one Beyond Birthday, and while he's not exactly a normal human, he isn't quite strong or agile enough to avoid falling to the floor from the impact of the push.]

Ouch.

[He sits up, rubbing his elbow, with an expression of pure irritation directed at the girl. Clearly, this affront is more important than the fact he's just nearly missed becoming monster food. Clearly.]

Edited 2015-12-10 23:35 (UTC)

[The irritation goes unnoticed at first; Triela is too busy wondering whether to fire again or simply jump at the thing and wrestle it to try and gauge the atmosphere. She considers... Probably best not wrestle it. Those teeth! On the other hand, she only has so much ammo, and the thought of using it all up and still being stuck here with these freaks still makes her nervous. So... Well, an assassin knows when to remove herself from the situation, right?]

Hey, [she says,] let's g— [She looks over her shoulder at him. He's sitting on the ground.]

What are you doing?! [Now she's radiating pure irritation. Civilians!] Get up!

Well, I wouldn't be on the ground if you hadn't knocked me over, would I?

[Beyond huffs as he pulls himself back to his feet, dusting off his hands on his already-dusty jeans. He still seems to be completely unworried about the threat of the monster in front of them - unworried or uncaring.]

Edited 2015-12-12 02:40 (UTC)

[Triela is so surprised by this man's confrontation that she lowers her shotgun.] N-No, but I—

[But I saved your life comes to mind. What the heck is with this guy? She stares at him for a moment, maybe a moment too long, before holding out her hand to him.] Look, [she says, distressed,] we don't have time for this. You're okay, right? We really need to go, or that thing's going to eat us!

[He stares at her hand like it's a completely foreign object.]

Nothing about this is OK.

[But there's no argument that they're in danger of being eaten; he just doesn't seem perturbed by the idea. She does, though, obviously, and it's not much, but it's enough to pull his attention.]

What do you suggest?

[Well, yeah, the guy's got a point. This isn't okay. It's bizarre and frightening. But Triela has a job to do — namely, survival, until she can find Hilshire, and she can't let this guy impede her there.]

I suggest running away. We're gonna get eaten alive if we stay here, mister.

[Now she frowns, maybe a little wise for her age, and she retracts her hand, but she bends down to his level.]

Listen. Do you have a death wish?

[She's not mocking him. She asks it very solemnly.]

[... Oh no. Not again. For a split second, every nerve in Beyond's body goes taut with remembering. You want to die. Not a question; Shiro knew. And he'd answered her honestly, and she'd torn him apart with her bare hands, later, after he'd changed his mind.

Despite the fact that this girl is toting a giant gun, everything else about her seems to want to help, not harm. But Beyond had been fooled by Shiro, too - her childlike affect, the claim of friendship. No, he'll not make that mistake again.]

Of course not, [he lies.] Which way?

[ Having filled a backpack to capacity with food items and changes of clothes, Miller is slowly making his way back to the apartment he's taken for himself. Said backpack is slung over the only shoulder he has left, and he's leaning heavily on his cane with each step that he takes. At least he managed to find a decent pair of boots, so his artificial leg isn't quite as obvious.

Much like Triela, Miller feels a little lost. It's not that he can't take care of himself, because he can, but he's used to having the Boss around. The man he's run into here, he doesn't count, and right now Miller would be happy enough to avoid him for the rest of his time here. (It's not practical or logical, but Kaz tends to run on gut feelings.) But as for the phantom, their lives run so close together that it's strange not to have him here. To not be doing this together.

It would be hard to miss a distraught girl wandering around with a shotgun. This is the second young girl carrying a weapon that Miller's run into in this place, and it's a pattern that understandably has him on edge. Bringing any of them here without permission is detestable, but kids?

He hobbles toward her, looking her over through his aviator glasses. ] Hey, are you all right? [ Stupid question. Snake had asked him the same thing, and Kaz had laughed in his face. ] I mean... do you need help?

[It's illogical, because this person doesn't sound anything like Hilshire, and Triela knows that. But she can't help it: when she hears this adult male speaking to her, her head whips up, mouth partway open, a lot of hope in her eyes...

But of course it isn't Hilshire.

She hides the phone in her hand behind her back guiltily, like she doesn't want anyone to know she's been trying to use it, but she schools her face into something stern. Vulnerability isn't an option.]

Yes, sir, I'm fine. I'm just looking for... [Triela falters. How to explain Hilshire in a way that makes them sound normal?] ...My brother.

[ Hope is a dangerous thing. It's something that Kaz himself had leaned on for nine whole years and it led nowhere good in the end. Even so, it's a crutch that almost every person makes use of at one point or another, particularly those who are young.

He watches the hope seep out of this girl's expression and his mouth twists downward in response. Of course he's not who she's looking for. He knows the feeling.

Miller notes that she's hiding something from him. Hopefully not another weapon, but just in case, he keeps a safe amount of distance between them. ]

Your brother. [ Immediately his thoughts go to Chico and Amanda, and the pang of guilt is so familiar now that it hardly slows him down. ] What's his name? What does he look like?

[Great, this isn't gonna be easy, but it's probably a necessity: if someone can help her locate Hilshire, Triela has to take a chance.] His name's Hilshire... [She blushes suddenly, awkwardly aware of the fact that sisters don't generally call their brothers by their last names.] Um, Victor. He's in his thirties. He's pretty tall, and kind of pale... his hair is short and dark, a little wavy, it hangs around his forehead... [She's gesturing with her hand as she talks.] He's got dark eyes.

[In short, he looks nothing like her. She looks down, and then brings the phone out from behind her back.]

I tried, [and here she clears her throat,] I tried calling him, but, uh...

[ Judging by both the age and physical description, Miller can make a safe guess that this girl isn't blood related to her brother. Not that he's going to judge about that. Family can develop in the strangest of ways.

When she shows her phone (which thankfully isn't a knife or any other kind of weapon), Miller shifts his weight onto his good leg, removing his hand from his cane for a moment so that he can take his own phone out of his coat pocket. ]

I know. This thing is a little more advanced than what I'm used to, but it definitely isn't registering any phone numbers I've put in. [ He frowns and shakes his head. He'd call it useless, but it looks like it can at least contact other people within Hadriel. That could come in handy. ]

I think you can use it to send messages to everyone else here. You could send out a bulletin, see if anyone's seen him. [ Which is his roundabout way of saying that he hasn't, but he can keep an eye out now. ]

[ merodach had raised his hands in surrender the instant a gun was pointed in his direction, as you do; they drop once it becomes apparent triela isn't actually a hostile party, his expression also lowering into a scowl. how unnecessary. he can appreciate the instinct behind the reaction, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the right to be offended, too. ]

Hey, do you mind? There's better targets for you to waste your-- [ ah hell, what are they called, again? he grimaces when the word doesn't immediately come to mind. ] -- bullets on.

[Triela's stuck grimacing, too, mirroring Merodach's expression for different reasons: she's sheepish, but she doesn't think she's in the wrong. Anyone who'd just been abducted would utilize what combative training they had in order to keep themselves safe, right? Right...]

Yeah, sorry... [Trying to be gracious, she slings the shotgun's strap over her shoulder so that her hands are free, and holds them up, now empty and harmless. (Not really. She's skilled at hand-to-hand, too. But it's the gesture that counts, she hopes.)] I wasn't going to shoot you. I just thought...

[Here she trails off, admittedly awkward, unsure of how to explain herself without coming across as a total weirdo. More of a total weirdo. Though something seems up with this guy, too. Triela's never seen anybody like him before.

She shakes her head.]

Look, you don't know where we are, right? Are you like me?

[ she thought, huh? his frown softens when she trails off; poor thing clearly has no idea what she's doing. definitely not a position that he's familiar with (haha) but he can sympathize all the same. ]

In that respect, yes. [ though he hates to admit it. he looks out at the scattered shoes, ears twitching back at the sight of the teeth covered soles. ] Don't know who had the sense to give you that weapon, but it's odd that you'd wake up with that over shoes.

I had it with me when I was at home last... I had just finished cleaning it. [It doesn't feel right to be caught out in the open with a visible gun: usually her weapons are concealed, and people think she's just a little girl. But she'd feel worse if she didn't have it...] But I don't think you're wrong... The organization that brought us here seems really loony. But I've never experienced anything like this.

[Kidnapping, yeah, but this is on some bizarre scale that's a little difficult for Triela to comprehend. She glances to the left, exhaling, clearly stressed out.]

I don't have any idea what to do next... I need to look for someone, but this place is seriously screwed up. Are you gonna be okay here, mister?

[you wanna know the great thing about swords, triela? they don't run out of bullets. to be honest, lloyd is still a little vague on the exact function of a gun. which means he doesn't actually know that guns can run out.

figuring out that triela is feeling a bit overwhelmed right now is easy enough for him to figure out though, so after stumbling back a few steps in surprise at her shove he's stepping forward again, dual swords drawn, just in time to cross the blades in front of the both of them and repel back the giant bug thing that had apparently taken offense at getting things shot at its eyes.

he follows that up with a quick slash and spin of his blades that has the thing dropping to the ground in a pool of quickly spreading blood.

and then he falls back a step closer to triela, blades still drawn in defense because that thing had friends and the fight is hardly over yet. he still spares a look at her over one shoulder though, concern evident.] That was close! Are you okay?

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INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

triela (ota)

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b. (appropriately enough)

rae!!! <3

rinna! <333

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cw slight gore and vaguely suicidal

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a!

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b.