INTRO LOG: WELCOME TO THE BATCAVE

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for January.
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: January 10th-15th
Warnings: Bats, but not Batman. Weird arts and crafts. Confused newbies.

You awaken on the hard-packed sandy floor of the colosseum. As you blink the sleep from your eyes and begin to try to get your bearings, you might hear the gentle, soothing sound of wind chimes tinkling through the air. It's a peaceful sound, a pleasant sound. As you look around, you'll find tall stands with curved hooks at the top here and there throughout the arena, each supporting a different handmade wind chime.

You could stay and enjoy the sounds, even if what they're coming from is a bit less than aesthetically pleasing. Or you could pause for a moment and wonder where the wind that's sounding the chimes is coming from, considering you're in a cave. There are breezes in Hadriel now and again, but what's causing this wind is something else entirely. Spend too long out in the open and you'll find out what.

Perching atop the broken walls of the colosseum, hidden in crevices and shadows, are a number of Ahools. These giant bats can have wingspans as big as 12 feet, and they're certainly strong enough to lift smaller and lighter people off their feet entirely, carrying them away to devour at their leisure. Don't think you can hide - their echolocation will find you as easily as a bat finds a moth in the black of night.

If you manage to escape the Ahools and get your bearings, feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your belly is as full as that giant bat's was supposed to be. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers January 10th-15th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► 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

chie satonaka | open!!

[heavyheels]

This is absolutely not where Chie expects to be when she wakes up today. She expects to wake up in her croft with the rising of the sun, with enough time to get in a morning jog before her Watch shift. She expects to hear the sounds of the forest and her fellow villagers, background noise she's become accustomed to over the past few months of captivity in Demeleier. No one's thought to make something as simple and pleasurable as wind chimes; they all have other priorities, like surviving until the next day.

She sits up on the ground with a violent start, one hand flying to her head to make sure her rowan crown is still there, breathing a quick sigh of relief when it is. That reprieve doesn't last long; she can tell immediately that this isn't Demeleier, and that raises a number of troubling questions: where is she; what brought her here; what happened to her friends; what does she do now?

hey there naptime buddy, let's get this party started.

[hollowly]

Well, that makes two of them, doesn't it? He's expecting to wake up in the bunker, possibly to the sound of Castiel rummaging around for something or another, perhaps furthering their shared research on how they're supposed to track a certain angel next -- but when none of that reaches his ears once he finds himself this side of consciousness, he immediately knows something is wrong.

Wrong. With a capital 'w'. Because that's just how things tend to be for him, and this is just par for the course.

Beside him, he's aware of movement other than his own, and when his focus trains on Chie and how distressed she immediately is, he doesn't concern himself so much with the various aches and pains he can feel riddled all throughout his body.

"Hey, you okay?" Great first question, right? That's how you make friends and influence people.

[fervence]

This is beginning to become a noticeable pattern to Lloyd, and he hardly even glances at the wind chimes as he steps into the colosseum to check in on the new arrivals because honestly, what's strange about crafting things out of stuff you have lying around, huh? actually a wind chime might be a nice addition to their house...

Or at the very least something to use all those leftovers from the bears they'd hunted down a couple months ago. (He didn't exactly have a forge around here to do anything else much more complex with them anyway.)

Lloyd makes his way over to the nearest person looking lost in the arena, stops a few feet short and crouches down to put himself more at eye level with her before offering up a smile. "You're new here, right? My name's Lloyd, are you feeling okay?"

peter rumancek | ota!

[werewolfing]

[dissonant and beautiful]

[peter knows there's something wrong when he wakes up to the sound of...windchimes. except not just regular windchimes, the peculiar types of handmade windchimes that are familiar from his childhood, made of sticks and old silverware and tinfoil and bits and bobs of metal from who knows where, hung on hangers or old pie plates.

except when he looks up, those aren't sticks. they're bones.

still, it's not a wholly unpleasant sound, and he can't immediately identify any human bones, so peter turns to the matter at hand: where in the hell is he? the last thing he remembers is a cup of coffee and an awkward non-conversation with roman--and the coffee cup is still in his hand, though its contents are, regrettably, on the ground. he could've used that coffee.

peter stands up slow, checking for bumps and bruises as he does. no knocks to the head, at least. around him, other people seem to be making their way to their feet as well, but he can't really see them that well in the dimness.

deep in his gut, his balls ache, and wherever the moon is, it's not where it should be. what the fuck is going on?]

[a strange customer]

[there's a town down here. a small one, but not smaller than some of the towns peter has lived in. weird, though. he's getting used to the ache in his balls, although every footfall or person he encounters makes him startle. he's found one of the food shops, and is currently filling a bag full of the most familiar-seeming things in it. it's not the ransacking of a hungry teenager, but the careful decision-making of someone who knows how to make food last. he's starting to get used to the ache in his balls, the feeling of wrong in his gut. no shit something's wrong. lots of things are wrong.

someone coming into the shop might find him crawling behind whatever appears most like a register, searching cabinets and nooks and crannies.]

C'mon, what does a guy have to do for a carton of smokes around here?

option deux

[krangke]

Who are you talking to?

(Comes a British voice that isn't at all hostile in its tone but definitely a little mocking. Standing just two or three feet behind Peter stands Newt. His stance is casual, hip cocked to the side and his hunting rifle hanging by a leather strap from his shoulder. He's got his arm relaxed over it, safety on, hand over the barrel in a comfortable position. The barrel is aimed indelicately at Peter but there's no solid threat other than its general presence. His other hand is down against his belt, thumb hooked through one of the front loops and his head is tipped curiously to the side.

If this town wasn't filled with other people, he might have been more cautious. He's wary of most adults since most adults have given him cause to be wary of but that doesn't make him naive with anyone his own age either. People are dangerous but people also mean safety in numbers and that is something he is willing to risk sticking his neck out for. Without being able to find his friends, he doesn't have much option here and from afar, Peter kind of maybe looks like someone whose his own age. He would trust someone his own age a whole lot quicker than someone older.

After all, he's gotta start somewhere. Being alone never got anyone anywhere, right?)

Option Two!

[amos_moses]

Amos, wandering by, spots the newcomer and pokes his head into the shop, watching for just a moment. Hearing the question, he answers, his New Orleans accent both clipped and drawled in turns.

"Ain't seen anything like smokes yet. Maybe the gods'll get a clue, though, if we ask."

a strange customer indeed

[whichend]

[ Arya has no idea what smokes are, unless the man is looking for tools to start a fire. He won't find anything for a fire behind the register, though, Arya's already checked. It's about her fourth month in this place, give or take a fee weeks, and she's got a system.

This man, Arya thinks, looks stupid, and he's not even following the system. Arya doesn't have high hopes for his survival. ]

You may want to try the woods outside the grassy area, if you are looking to create smoke. Some of the trees have thin bark that burns quite well, although it will likely attract the attention of creatures you do not wish to meet.

[greywaren]

[Ronan isn't exactly an uncommon sight in the shops these days. Despite the rage event ending awhile ago, he's still angry, and he holds it like a wire pulled to snapping just behind his breastbone. There may no longer be a compulsion to feel rage, but that doesn't get rid of it in its entirety and it doesn't make his housemates any easier to live with.

So he goes out scavenging more often than not, even though nobody really needs anything right now. He's got a little buzz going, which helps with the general boredom, and also lets him ignore Peter when the stranger moves into the store and starts looking around.

He doesn't speak until spoken to, and even then, there's a flash of annoyance more than anything at the simple fact that he's being addressed. Ronan's gaze flicks up toward Peter for a moment before it returns to the shelf in front of him, which he cards through with disrespect to the actual contents of the shelf.]

Blow one of the gods? I dunno. I haven't seen any in these stores since I got here.

[He shrugs, returning to his own rifling. There's a small bottle near him that he takes with him when he moves to another shelf- flask-sized but see-through, with a rich liquid that can only be some kind of alcohol. It's five o'clock somewhere, right?]

one

[unknowable]

[The arrival is becoming routine, as strange as this place is, so Adam finds himself at the arena once he knows new people have arrived again. He's not doing it to be helpful. He usually doesn't come at all, only meeting newcomers when he stumbles across them in the street. He's looking for someone - of course - and a quiet, careful trip through the arena is the fastest way to be sure.

Not that he wasn't already sure. But he had to check. It's not really a disappointment when you don't expect a good outcome, so - whatever. It's fine.

The sound of wings has him looking up, and if nothing else Adam has grown to expect the arrival of monsters alongside people, so he isn't surprised. Wary, but not surprised. He's about to just leave, but he doesn't quite have that in him, and so he turns to Peter - the closest newcomer to him - and speaks.]

Hey. There's some kind of flying monster. You should probably get under cover - there's hallways in the arena walls. That way.

[He points. Adam Parrish, doing his duty and being a decent person for five minutes before he lets his problems distract him again.]

2

[dragonbite]

[ Before coming to this place, Vaiz had not ever seen a cash register like the ones that had here. Or shops like them, for that matter. He is also unfamiliar with cigarettes so when he enters a shop to see if there's anything around that can actually give him energy (because food's good and important and all, but he needs sugar to keep awake and motivated) and hears someone talk about smokes, he's a little confused. ]

If you set a fire inside, you might burn everything up.

[ Just saying. If you burn down all the houses, they won't have anywhere to live or anywhere to get food. ]

dos!

[hollowly]

( sam is more than accustomed to finding himself with a need to acclimate to a feeling of wrongness in the air – and even though there's no pressing issue of immediate danger, it's difficult to stand still when something needs to be done, and with little else to do than to check out his surroundings, it's no real surprise that he finds himself in peter's little shop as he's gathering up food.

and apparently sifting behind counters in search of cigarettes. there's something you don't see every day, certainly, but coming from a life like his, this is downright tame compared to some of the things he's seen.

his eyebrows do go up, though, and he's not judging the kid as much as he's scrutinizing his course of action, because while it doesn't look like there's anyone around to tell him to stop what he's doing, you don't just help yourself to merchandise. ( or, rather, you do, if your name is dean winchester. he's seen him do it so many times in the past that it's become common practice. sigh. )

he clears his throat on his approach, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets. )

What, there was no ring-bell-for-service bell?

Rey | Open!

[circumitus]

She wakes up in the underground, to the ring of chimes over another type of ringing in her ears.

Slowly, she blinks through her bleary sight, her head aching. When her eyes dart towards her peripheral vision, she catches sight of a doll head over her, with various rusty silverware and metal pieces dangling from it. It's hardly a pleasant image, but she has seen much worst.

The last thing that comes to mind was that she had been crawling through the narrowed tunnels of a prison ship. That's where her memories before coming here end. At the very least, she has found herself waking up in a strange place with memories intact at all, but it's hardly a consoling revelation. Had she somehow been found by the synthetics that took her brother already? Did she already fail in her mission?

Shifting to sit upright, Rey brings a hand to her head and mumbles something incoherently to herself. Where she finds herself is not the metal walls of the prison, but in what appears to be some sort of natural cavern. She searches for any other sign of life as she climbs to her feet, finding the strength and will to move around.

Not daring to call out at the risk of drawing unwanted attention, she ventures into the caverns on her own. There's a possibility that she'll find herself accidentally bumping into someone by chance, somewhere in the dark, and a muttered apologies is bound to follow.

[theresolve]

While Rey is on her way out, someone else is on his way in. Armored and armed, when new people show there is often a rush of monsters as well, not to mention new people who have no idea how to fight monsters. That means time to don the weaponry and go in to act as rescuer.

Rey is quiet enough that Rainier almost collides with her, stopping and taking a precautionary step back at the last moment in one of the maze of hallways that lead to outside from the main arena of the colosseum.

Well as close to 'outside' as there gets when there's one giant cave you're all in.

"Apologies," she... does not appear to be freaking out? That's new? Maybe she's not actually new and Rainier just hasn't seen her before.

Newbies tend to be freaking out a bit.

[closerift]

She doesn't literally bump into another person, but the Inquisitor does approach. Cecily had come out, as usual, to check over the inevitable wave of new arrivals, to search for any of the others from the Inquisition, to see if anyone was injured. When people were drawn in, it usually also meant that a new breed of beast was out and about, which increased the usual amount of danger to an even higher degree.

The caves were always dangerous, but particularly on this day every month. It's why Cecily has her bow slung against her back (though, she usually does), and is on high alert when she spies the other person a short distance away. It's more likely that this is a newcomer, rather than a humanoid monster or demon, but it never hurts to be cautious.

"Have you just gotten here?" she questions, keeping a good amount of space between them, looking curiously to Rey. "I can help, if you have."

Better to be a solid mix of kind and wary.

[imobouzu]

When she bumps into the teenage boy carrying a sword at his side, the boy who has ventured toward the colosseum - because he's heard that every month, people appear there and he wants to make sure they get out safely - there's a goodnatured tone in his voice. "Not to worry! You have not harmed me!" And because he's pretty sure that there might not be other people who have been here a while wandering the area besides him right now (of course he's wrong but he often is, although it has not discouraged him this far); "Are you one of the new people, perhaps?"

[hybridification]

Rhys wouldn't go near the Colosseum around arrival time if you paid him- well, maybe if you paid him a lot, but still. It serves to note, however, that he's still not entirely sure when arrival time is, and the arena of sorts is a little bit in the way between where he lives and where the shops are.

He's mostly in luck and doesn't manage to run into any giant carnivorous caterpillars or trolls on his way, but he does find himself running near a woman who looks... well, not lost, but not entirely sure of where she's going. A quick glance upward tells him that there's definitely something sinister up there, and as much as he doesn't want to wait around and see what it is, he's also a little intrigued by this person who looks like they could probably break him in half.

Mostly because Rhys is still hoping a little that she'll be friendly. One of his other powerful buddies has been MIA for awhile, and he needs more protection in this little cave of horrors. If she's not friendly, then- well, that's what the small sentry robot floating near him is for. Hopefully it won't come to that. Rhys doesn't actually think that it could do much, but at least it's here if he needs to threaten someone with it.

He waves with his robot arm a little awkwardly, motioning her closer, while still keeping his eye on the creature in the shadows of the arena above them.

"Hey. You new here?"

newt | ota

[krangke]

option 1. BAT-tling

(This had long since become a standard way for Newt to wake up.

He'd forgone expectations of a consistent reality the first time he woke up in the Box. Ever since then, he'd questioned everything. There was always an explanation around the corner (or a puzzle that would hopefully lead to an explanation) and more often than not it had the name WICKED stamped all over it. This situation was no different and the first thought that crossed his mind was not Where am I? but What can I remember?

A quick scramble of his mind. The Scorch. The Rat Man. Flat trans. Cranks. The words of recognition fell into his head like an adult vocabulary lesson, all accompanied with sharp flashing images. The wind chimes don't scare him or assure him of anything at all. Don't always trust what you see and don't always assume everything you can trust is what can be seen.

To Newt, this was another Test.

To him, there was really no other explanation. The situation was too familiar enough for him to dissociate. It was the logical conclusion and the conclusion that would save his skin. It had to be a Test or else he could die thinking he was safe. The most important thing that stuck itself in his mind was a single objective: regroup. Surely his friends had to be near and if not- then what?

He didn't have the luxury to plan. Not with the sudden movement just to his left. Newt spun sharply round on the heel of his good foot, his bad foot sliding out behind him and his arms jerked the hunting rifle up that had been hanging over his shoulder into position. His head snapped down and he aligned his eye with the scope, having all of three, maybe five, seconds to take aim. By the time his finger hugged the trigger, he was staring down the opened mouth of a giant- bat?

The creature went crashing and nearly took it with him. He tumbled out of the way, staggering before whipping his gun up and aiming it at the creature. A clean head shot through the mouth. His hands weren't trembling but his skin was paler than it had been a couple seconds ago. He whipped around, aiming his gun up because like hell he trusted that to be the only one.)

option 2. dissect the enemy

(Once it became evident that Newt was relatively safe from more bats, he got down onto his knees and rolled the smallest carcass that he could find over onto its back. Looking down over the bat, his eyes darted here and there, like he was looking for something. And he was.

WICKED had a thing about imprinting their name all over their products. If this bat was a product of WICKED, it'd be no different. Newt had to know if it was though. He felt like it had to be- what else could it be? Of all of his time spent out of the Maze, they hadn't run into any monsters that hadn't been WICKED-manufactured and hell, they hadn't even run into normal animals either. He knew that normal animals didn't look like this bat, even without his memories in tact. Though he did remember what a bat was, his mind supplied him with the briefest of images of something much, much smaller than the creature under his searching palms.

He opened up the jaw, peeked inside, before opening and closing the wings. Nothing. Nothing metallic either- not yet anyway. He bit into the corner of his lip before making an executive decision. If he was going to be fighting these things, then he had to know what he was dealing with. He removed the hunting knife from the side of his hip and leaned over the bat, eyes skimming briefly over the beast before he moved to bring the knife down.

Time to do science. Even in the dark of the cavern, it didn't matter. WICKED was notorious for combining robotics with beasts and if there was anything metal inside of this guy, he'd know pretty quickly. If it was all flesh - well, then that opened up a whole new realm of questions, didn't it?)

2

[synthedick]

[While others were making their way out of the coliseum, Nick took one more look around as he tucked his pistol away, scanning for details he'd missed in the mayhem that was his arrival. His eyes went upward first, giving the ceiling a more thorough inspection now that he wasn't being chased by a bat large enough to spark fear in a super mutant: yes, that was definitely a rock wall above the ruins that surrounded him. They were underground - deep, somewhere far too cavernous to be a Vault. The folks at Vault-Tec had done their fair share of questionable experiments, but digging out a massive grotto and installing an arena was a new one.

Said dilapidated arena gave him no answers as to his specific location or why he'd awakened there, either. For him to awaken at all was odd in and of itself, given he had no biological need for sleep and generally didn't practice it. However, when he'd suddenly found himself on the ground with no memory of shutting down, either forcibly or of his own volition, he had no better way to describe it.

That left those who'd also been fighting the bats, people who'd presumably found themselves thrust into the situation just as he had. There was one still around: a boy who, judging by the knife in his hand, was preparing to make either a meal or a coat out of the corpse of one of the creatures. Spotting the rifle on his shoulder, Nick recalled a moment from the battle where the kid had faced one of the monstrous bats down. He'd been bold, stupid, lucky, or maybe some combination of all three, but the end result was the same: the creature was dead, and the kid was tougher than he looked.

Maybe he'd know something, maybe he wouldn't, but it couldn't hurt to see what he did know. Nick approached the lad, fishing through his coat for his pack of cigarettes.]

He swallow something of yours?

2

[whichend]

[ Arya is practically desensitized by now to what goes on in the Colosseum. All she knows is that once a month, new people appear, as well as new beasts. It was horrifying when it happened to her, and it was a little scary the second time she saw it, but this is the fourth time for her, and she's not scared at all. It's become a reliable way to keep time, more reliable than sunrise or sunset, which the gods can change at any moment.

She watches the boy with the bat carcass intently. She's not sure what he's trying to do, but it looks like he's taken apart an animal before, which is good. Arya doesn't have time to witness incompetence. She wants to see what this boy is made of, see if he's a danger.

When her curiosity gets the better of her, she calls to him. ]

Are you looking to eat that?

2

[themightykamina]

[Once he'd heard the screeching and muted yells, Kamina had made a beeline for the coliseum. If he'd woken up there, maybe other people had--maybe his bro, too. He'd found more than his share of bats, but he'd found nothing else interesting, really--except for whatever this guy was doing?

Have a shirtless, bare-chested swordsman coming up on your left, staring at the bat suspiciously.]

Think you might be wasting your time trying to skin this one. They're all stringy on the inside, no good meat.

[What? Can't blame a guy for trying.]

Sunny | Open

[xiake]

oo1.

[When the air ripples with an energy Sunny does not yet understand, he expects things to escalate quickly. What he does not expect, however, is for the entire world to go dark. He definitely does not expect to be somewhere else altogether: no car, no men.

No M.K.

He rolls to his feet. Did they take M.K.? Where is this? That damn kid -- he doesn't know why he even bothers. (He knows.) The ground beneath his boot is unfamiliar and the circular arena is nothing he’s seen before. Wherever this is, it’s far away from Quinn’s fields. The air smells stale, full of earth, and the copper of blood tinges every breath he takes. And there are people around. All sorts of people he's never seen before.

If he didn't know better, he'd say they were prisoners. But both of his swords are sheathed; when he feels his pockets, he isn't missing anything. In fact, there's a strange rectangular device that wasn't on him before.

He makes his way to the first stranger in his line of vision. His hand lands on their shoulder.]

Hey. Who are you?

oo2.

[There's already blood on his sword by the time he manages to duck out of that arena. Sunny has no idea how bats have grown that large, but it isn't a mystery he cares to stay long just to find out. He's got better puzzles to solve. Namely, where is he? And where's the nearest exit?

Nowhere close by turns out to be the answer. There's light streaming in from somewhere, but he can't seem to track it; it moves strangely, and the rest of this place -- it's a grey, crumbling little town, though not deserted. When he peers into the shop windows, there are things in there. Some have fresh fruit and vegetables, others have clothes that have been recently placed.

In the end, he picks an apple and leans against one of the store windows, studying the rectangular item that had been placed in his pocket. He turns it over in his palm. There's an emblem etched into he doesn't know. It's smooth, like glass, with just one button on it that, when he presses, lights it up with a little noise. Startled, he almost drops it. What the hell?

((anyone walking by will find sunny staring intently at his phone. pls help him.))]

1

[werewolfing]

[a hand claps on his shoulder and peter jumps like a startled cat, spinning around and staggering backward a few steps.]

What the fuck, man? You don't just sneak up on a guy like that.

sam winchester ♦ open! ( & will match format. )

[hollowly]

↪ i; at least his brother isn't here to say i'm batman

( the sound of windchimes isn't what wakes him initially. really, it's the sensation of having been asleep for far too long on far too hard a surface to be even a poor excuse for a motel bed, and even if he's more than used to pulling himself out of consciousness with a few aches and pains from the day – maybe days – before, something about this feels a little different.

his neck hurts, as does his back, his joints are stiff and don't you dare say anything about it being that he's getting older – but he pulls himself up, brushes the sand from his jeans and checks to make sure the familiar shape of his gun is still tucked into the waistband, already trying to stay two steps ahead of himself before something really goes wrong.

this isn't where he's supposed to be. and he really needs to get back there. why do things like this always have to happen to him?

distantly, he thinks he hears the rustle of wings, catches himself looking for where the sound might be coming from, but those darned bats are staying hidden, for the moment … which only means it's a matter of time before one of them tries to pick him up and carry him off into the sunset. look, bat … you don't want any of this. moose are tough, you know? he wouldn't taste good. )

↪ ii; by averting snacktime, we bring on the exploration, because that's just how winchesters do

( aka, this is the choose-your-own-adventure option. once he's found his way out of the colosseum and away from the crazy-big hungry bats, he's going to be making his way … well, everywhere. he needs to figure out more about this place, and he gets around – if there's a certain place you'd like to run into him, by all means! he's got long legs and he intends to use 'em, and he's really hoping that he doesn't end up having to shoot anything along the way and waste the only bullets he has. :| )

II

[amos_moses]

Amos is out wandering himself, only partially gathering supplies, mostly just exploring nooks and crannies of the ruined city because he's curious. He spots Sam coming up the street, and pauses momentarily, just a check in his stride before his tips his head and offers a friendly smile instead.

"Oh, hey. I guess they brought in another batch of newbies, huh?" Amos speaks with a comfortable New Orleans accent, even though he has to tip his head to look up at Sam: and it's up, because Amos's Japanese heritage left him standing only five foot and six inches, and Sam quite frankly towers over him.

ashraf salib | open

[healplz]

a:

[ It's been a while since Ashraf woke up in a monster-infested area. It's sort of nostalgic, really. It puts him in a cheerful mood, where as usually waking up on a hard, cold floor completely different than where he'd gone to sleep might be a cause for discontent. But there's monsters, so, you know, that's fine.

Ashraf walks easily through the colosseum, eyes turned up to try and pick out the ahools before they start to pick at him, making a sort of out-of-place sight in his long, ornate robes and with those two fancy, cross-tipped golden rods held in one hand. He'll make a beeline for anyone else in here with him as soon as he spots them, and when he's near enough, tosses out a cheerful: ]

Hello! Are you any good at fighting?

b:

[ It's only once he's out of the colosseum that Ashraf finally looks slightly disappointed. Not confused, no, he's got the gist of all this. Just disappointed. But that's not going to stop him from exploring.

He's drawn to the temples first, and Fear's happens to be his very first stop. He doesn't quite enter. He stands just outside, watching it with a small frown. It's obviously a temple, no question there, but it's... well, it's sort of a shitty temple. Who makes a house of worship look so awful? He glances around, looking to snag the attention of anyone in the area. ]

Excuse me! [ He'll add a wave, just in case shouting isn't attention-getting enough. ] Can you tell me anything about this thing?

c:

[ or run into him anywhere else! scavenging? out for a lovely walk in the park? admiringly staring at Hope's much-nice temple? accidentally broken into your apartment because he thought it was empty like so many others (oops, sorry)? anything works! ]

b

[isacrowd]

[Z doesn't usually go anywhere near Fear's temple (she's not his biggest fan, but it's less about him and more about the feeling of unease that sweeps over her as she draws nearer), but to answer a question or to help someone out, she'll do just about anythung. So she steels herself and heads over when she hears the voice and sees the newcomer waving -- because he is, without a doubt, new here.

Will the Door ever stop bringing people in? Won't it just spit everyone back out already?]

That's Fear's temple. He's one of the gods here, and it's his fault we're here, if Hope, another god, is telling the truth.

[She glances at the newcomer, trying to guess what sort of person he might be from his clothes and demeanor, but she doesn't get much further than 'looks like he knows magic'. At least he's friendly.]

You must be new here. I'm Z.

Henry Percy ✠ open!

[hotspurred]

COLOSSEUM;

[Rousing from an unexpected sleep is never peaceful; Henry jerks awake, inhaling sharply, his eyes wild. Automatically registering the weight of his heater shield on his arm, he swiftly shifts onto his knees and brings it up into a defensive ward while his mind works on cataloguing his situation. Foreign surroundings – a partially ruined amphitheatre in a remarkably vast cave?]

What--

[He hisses, as his gaze scans the environment. He's still in full plate and mail, fortunately, and his hand quickly finds the grip of his arming sword. There are numerous people around, some on their feet and some unconscious on the sand. 'But not one assailant,' he notes, as he rises fully to his feet. He draws his sword nonetheless: better to be prepared for the prospect of hostility in a place where blood has evidently been spilt. None of the sounds of fighting carry on the air, just soft chiming upon the wind. Wind at least is usable – surely it can only come from an opening that leads outside.

It gives him an objective. He must find the nearest source of the chiming.

As he begins to walk across the sands, Henry attempts to piece his memory together. He is fatigued from the final battle against Diabolus, but not so exhausted to have passed out from exertion. He did not make it off of the battlefield, but neither has he suffered a knockout blow.

He grits his teeth as a thought occurs to him. His heart pounds.

What if slaying the evil dragon did not extinguish its dark powers in a single instance? Diabolus warped the French landscape, corrupting its beauty into a nightmarish vision as its monstrous forces were transported into their realm. There were countless months of it -- a vast weave of sorcery by anyone's reckoning. Could he have been caught in the crossfire, as it came undone?

Who can possibly say?]

God have mercy upon our souls.

[He mutters, half in despair and half in prayer, before his eyes alight on someone heading the same way, just ahead.]

Hoy! You, there!



CITY;

[By this point, as he walks along Hadriel's streets, Henry is trudging: the last battle against Diabolus was long and arduous on its own, and the adrenaline that carried him through slaughtering those... bat demons in the colosseum has worn off. He's physically exhausted, and all he wants to do is clean up his equipment, then himself, and sleep.

Being in a ruin-filled, entirely foreign city absurdly still within the cave, with no recollection of how he came to be here and no obvious means of returning home keeps his mind restless and his frustration high. There's no promise that he will find rest, but he's keen to attempt it.

If he can find somewhere appropriate.

It's no more apparent that he's in a bad mood than when he passes someone else on one of the narrower paths, and makes no move to avoid collision. He puts no force into barging them, but he's still fully armoured when he does push past... and also splattered in monster viscera over a light coating of ash.]

city

[whichend]

[ Arya keeps herself on high alert whenever she moves through the city. She trusts this place a little more than when she first came, but not much. Years as a child on the run has trained her to keep sharp and observant. There are other forces, bigger and stronger than she, and her advantage must be quick wit and quick eyes. She's able to dodge out of the man's way, but when she takes a look back at him, she's practically dumbfounded.

She hasn't seen a knight in years.

She doesn't recognize that coat of arms, and the possibility that he is a Lannister man crosses her mind. Perhaps he's a member of one of the lower houses. She draws a sword, anticipating attack.

Because if he is a Lannister, she'll cut his throat out. ]

Whose banner do you bear?

wolf | open

[faithfulwolf]

«« chimes »»
[ Upon coming face to face with a wind chime, the werewolf squeaks in fear. It isn't exactly an entirely human sound, since he is a wolf, even if he doesn't look like one.

He shuffles backwards, his tail being squished between his bottom and the ground, and when his back hits a wall, he whimpers and clutches to his tail. It's a pitiful puppy sound. ]

«« ahoo escape »»
[ There's a lot of running involved. It's not that Wolf is unable to fight but he's afraid to lose control and he's in a new and scary place.

He manages to get away somehow, at least, and once outside he finds a corner to hide in, ears flat to his head after his hood fell off, tail tucked between his legs and zabuton cushion and towels pressed to his chest. ]

Jack...

[ Whimper. ]

I want to go home to the Nightmare Market...

escape!

[casperdisaster]

... Hey?

[Noah's voice is very soft and questioning, he's a couple feet away - far enough away that Wolf could easily dart around him and make his escape before Noah got close enough to touch him. That's intentional, Noah doesn't want him to feel cornered. He crouches down as well, legs tucked against his chest.]

... Are you hurt? I - I know where the clinic is if you need help ...