Owww! Motion = pain!
I stop moving.
What... Happened...
Everything is so small...
I... I was trying to find Fiddler and Ebony.
But the wind was... was insane.
I... I needed to land but I couldnt.
So... So I got big and made as controlled of a crash as I could.
I... hurt. A lot. At my head and back and everywhere.
I... I need help.
I need... to be helpable.
Im too big.
I... need to be small.
I try to shift into cat-form.
Aylia draws on a deep well of strength, perhaps unknown to her, and clamps down on herself, gaining control in the face of great pain, and pushes through it to change. Ice shatters, feathers and scales fall, wings snap and fade - that alone produces fresh waves of agony. She's never transformed with damage like this before.But the world becomes bigger, and the pain becomes less. And after ages, she stops shrinking, and lay still for a moment, gasping from strain and hurt and fear. After a few moments, as she is approached by Dar, Aylia struggles upright, pain shooting through all her limbs, her head, her back. She stands still a moment, waiting for her eyes to clear, never resting her right forepaw on the ground. As Dar begins to tug and nudge her toward ... somewhere else. She stumbles along, blindly, going mostly because it hurts more not to until at last, she collapses and remembers no more.
"Looks like they'll be sorting out their differences for some time yet, ladies and gentlefey! What say you we call a timeout and head further on? I'm sure we've all got other places to be."
Look at who's offering to take me. Would it happen to be Reggiefawn, or perhaps some other callback to a previous thing what I was present at?
Then see who else has had just about enough of the place. Maybe entice them with the promise of a sweet party back at Omega HQ or something similar. Or, failing that, see if anybody else would be willing to host the afterparty.
In any case, as long as whatever's offering to guide the way isn't overwhelmingly shady, follow it. Though make sure I am heading in the right direction nevertheless according to my own memories and such.
Oh, you remember these little bastards alright. The mice Dar found when you first arrived. They seem sincere enough though, and are pointing you in the right direction according to your memories. So you go, and you gather your followers up - those who have nothing better to do, that is, and make the trek, looking back when you can to catch glimpses of the show. Eventually, you arrive at the location - a wide glen filled with tall grass, and yes, there in the middle is a ring of stone. you gonna step n and turn around three times?
"A-Aylia w-why?"
Noir looks at her wound in pain tears starting to fill her eyes as she clutch's it.
"O-Oh..N-No..I-I D-Daddy..."
Try and get in touch with the dark magic link see if I can somehow use that as a way to communicate him.Try and patch myself up as best I can without magic.
((okay what parts of me are injured? depending on the parts that will change a lot of things.))
((Chest, face, hands, stomach, in varying degrees. Chest got the worst of it, though you're not exactly pretty at the moment, and are going to have some noticeable scarring, should you survive.))Noir closes her eyes, clenches her fists, and calls out in panic to her father, digging deep to channel darkness. She calls out, but hears nothing. the darkness rises up within her, and threatens to boil over. She reaches out, grasping for something, anything. She grabs a branch which crumbles to dust in her fingers, and curls her legs before falling silent again, holding her stomach and chest, and casting out little bolts of darkness all around her.
>"Requesting assistance. Requesting assistance. Requesting assistance."
Try to coax plant-baby to just sort of shuffle us along the ground and back.
plant baby coos at you, and draws more mud. alarms go silent, but other alarms start up. Plant baby doesn't move you at all though. On a better note, the wind seems to be dying down. Maybe the storm is moving elsewhere, or maybe this is a temporary lull. Care to risk it?
Omega HQ>Reporting multiple Omega personnel injured, two personnel out of contact, this unit immobilized due to extreme winds. Requesting assistance.
General>"It is impracticable. This unit is currently unable to proceed due to extreme weather conditions and incurred damage. Further, the evacuation location cannot exactly be persuaded to relocate without significant skill."
>Er
rzzpl@$8-#
{\pDL;###~#jMl3454900er.....((Hahaha, wow. Somehow, the two characters who are far away from evac and safety are the lleast injured. You guys are terrible at helping.))
Dar'yajira jumps away as the ice spikes burst from the body, reflexively hissing and spitting. "Shifter! Stop!" he shouts at it, before turning to look at Noir, and saying "Halfdragon, is it okay?"
Watch Noir and Aylia cautiously. If Aylia successfully shifts back to a smaller form, Dar'yajira will carefully approach her and, assuming she doesn't burst into spikes again, drag her to the mushrooms. Otherwise... leave them both alone and watch helplessly as they die.
((ATH, you do realize that calling Noir's father has a fair chance of making this vastly worse for all of us, right? He's a destructive god, and somehow I doubt he'll save her--and if he does, it'll probably be done by turning her into some unholy partial-undead monster that immediately murders us. Maybe Noir should just... slightly heal herself, merely stabilizing herself rather than anything drastic?
Oh, and Leng, Dar doesn't cast any spells aside from self-buffs, though I suppose mechanically he is capable of casting whatever. So no buffing Aylia. He's a very direct character anyway, and doesn't really do indirect solutions.))
Noir screams and thrashes and darkness flickers around her. Aylia twists and howls, and ice forms and shatters around her. her body changes, twisting horribly, making all manener of awful prey-in-mouth sounds. But she grows smaller. it takes some time, but at last, amid the blood and ice, the feathers and scales, a small white form settles, gasping. you approach cautiously and, to your surprise, the white cat stands. It's right forepaw is a mangled mess, and is coated in ice. it's fur sticks out like icicles, but upon inspection, they do not appear or feel to be sharp. Her breath comes in little puffs, and her fur is stained with blood. her eyes are nearly white, and are focused on nothing at all. In fact her inner lids are rolling up. One ear is hanging at an odd angle while the other stands erect. You begin talking to her and nuzzling her, pushing and prodding her toward the mushrooms. She moves, stumbling, staggering, wandering, and often stopping. At last, her little body gives out and she collapses, hundreds of paces from the fairy ring. You grab her by the scruff of her neck and tug, dragging her for what feels like weeks. stopping occasionally to check your path. at times, she moves her limbs in aid of you, but just as often, you are alone in your efforts.
You snap out of it, and look around. Where? where are you? What were you doing? you have to help aylia get to the place! What place? Oh, where is Aylia ...
You look around and realize that you are standing in the fairy ring, Aylia laying nearby, sprawled on her side and not moving. How long have you been standing here? You move to check on her, and find yourself on your side, purring, as cats will do at times like this. And then you know no more.
If they were guests they would understand, Ebony reasoned to herself through the fear. These must be something else. And she wasn't using the big no-no that was fire, it was ice. It'd be fine, and she'd have a reasonable explanation.
Freeze spell. Continue backing away if possible.
((Ebony might be a logical person but... PTSD is a serious thing. If people have other suggestions I could likely come up with reasons for her to not do this.))
You raise your hands, and chant, making all the gestures, finishing with a strong downward sweep with both hands, at which point, the air around you grows noticeably colder. THe mudmounts stop instantly in their tracks and take on a glossy sheen. the water nearby hardens and crackles, bulging out at the edges where the ice expands. All the vegetation within twenty feet of the mudcreatures stands rigid, slightly sparkling in the light. You pat yourself down, checking for frostbite or clawmarks, or soil. Well, aside for mteh mud from when you fell, you seem fine. Guess that takes care of that.
Ebony cleans herself off, looking around cautiously. There's no reason to believe that was all of them. While she's at it, she tries to see if she can get any idea where she is and what general direction the meeting point was.
You retrace your steps and try again. Yo uremember they were headed ... over here. Somewhere. You walk, and hope. Eventually, you stop and look about again. there are definitely tracks. And you hear a sound - a weird, unnatural sound. a tinny whine, punctuated by weird toots like a flute or a whistle might make, along with the occasional odd, cricket-like sound.
Something about the sound gets under your skin. it's disconcerting.
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Topic: Omega legion: The Satyr's Entourage (Read 70910 times)