June Aftermath: Magic Lantern Strange

[lifeaftr_mods]

JUNE AFTERMATH: MAGIC LANTERN STRANGE

Who: Everyone!
What: A celebration!
When: Evening of June 21st, and well into morning
Where: Ensō, E3 and E4
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Slide the Light Off You
As promised, the evening of the 21st finds the Jormun hosting a party on Ensō's largest beachfront. Near immediately, it should be clear that they've spared absolutely no expense when it comes to showing their story-walker brethren a good time.

Of course, they may also be...showing off a little. The stalls and comfortable seating supplied around multiple firepits appears to be a mishmash of Jormun built contraptions and items requested from the Storyteller- many may be delighted to see the variety of beach cushions and blankets, items the Jormun will be happy to let their story-walker friends take home at the end of the festivities. A veritable smorgasbord of food and drink is also readily available, from the kid-friendly options of brrshavak (a spicy drink with a taste akin to liquified chili pepper) and molkavarr (a rich chocolaty broth) to the alcoholic rakvrhak (a rich wine that tastes oddly plumlike). Do be warned, however, that the last is incredibly potent.

Large slabs of driftwood have been laid out to form impromptu tables, bristling with the Jormun's culinary expertise: fried squid, seaweed wraps, spicy pickled kelp, kebabs of roasted eel, hard-boiled snapling eggs, and so on. The vegetables and meats of the sea have been laid out for all to enjoy, so tuck in!

Throughout the evening the air will be filled with the sound of music, with multiple Jormun eager to show off their skill in instrumentation. Conch-shell horns, carved driftwood flutes, urchin-needle harps, and countless more contraptions engineered by a deep sea-dwelling people fill the air with the most peculiar but nonetheless not unpleasant sound. Most of the bands will be set up in the shallow waters, however, as their instruments are not made to be used in open air - try playing them above the surface of the water at your own risk.

Of course, there's plenty more to entertain even the most difficult of people.

You're Living the Strobe Light
Those interested in proving their strength and skill will be encouraged to enter one of the many tournaments across the shoreline. The tournaments vary, featuring such challenges as play fights with the schlacknorkcvic to prove who is the greatest warrior, timed events to see who can stay on a bucking tigershark for the longest, and even a tourney of brovonkosshk, a board game somewhat similar to chess. Don't see anything you're interested in? Make your own. If you can think it, the Jormun will happily accommodate it - impromptu challenges are the highlight of such evenings, after all, though the Jormun won't be taking any responsibility for the first poor soul that decides to usher in a drinking contest.

A small variety of walker games are also available. Jormun children are more than eager to play such games as hide-and-seek or red light, green light, while Connor Murphy will be bringing his Cards Against Humanity deck, for those ready to completely screw with the idea of a fourth wall. There's even a game of Spin the Bottle... except the bottle is being spun overhead like a mace. Being hit by said bottle requires you to do a stupidly ridiculous task, so perhaps it's best to avoid that particular adaptation...

And of course, there's the lightshow.

As mentioned previously, the main show of the evening is the show of brssticca: bursts of magical light beneath the water that will put any fireworks show to shame. The lights are safe to wade and swim through, do keep in mind that the phosphorescent algae tends to cling to the skin. And should you reach into those spiraling, fluorescent nebulae of patterns beneath the surface, some of the configurations of light may abruptly shatter like broken glass.

Additionally, skilled Jormun will be happy to assist those who care to dress up for the event with intricate applications of shellivthiss - a style of waterproof body paint that is not only bright, but luminescent. Something the Jormun may forget to mention, however, is how similar shellivthiss is to henna; should you decide to get all dolled up, except to shine bright light a diamond for weeks to come.

Lastly, those who wanted to bring their own adventures are welcome to as well! Supplying some dope roast? Bringing those sweet, sweet greens? Have some alcohol to supply? All is welcomed by the Jormun - and undoubtedly, your fellow adventurers as well.

You May Find Some Peace
Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the OOC Event Post, which has details regarding the event timeline!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[counterblows]

[Their staffs meet with a hard clack of wood on wood.]

[Maybe if he views this more as a training session between himself and one of the sim troopers...that's bound to be less of a fucking disaster, right? It's the same as any old hand-to-hand session, even if Wash's C.Q.C. quals were far from the highest on the board.]

[Disconnect. Retreat. Start circling in search for an opening.]

[aurabble]

[He didn't think it would be that easy. But he has no broken bones, so it counts as a win. Stepping back, he circles Wash, eyes not leaving him. With that helmet on, it's kind of hard to tell what he's thinking, but...]

HYAAAAA! [Jaune decides to rush in, swing the staff, but this instead of going for his opponent, he unearths the sand at their feet, resulting in a cloud of dust aimed in Wash's direction.]

[counterblows]

[The armor is really not making this fair. His opponent kicks up a cloud of dust that serves as a distraction, but a military-grade visor doesn't weather that sort of thing for very long. Wash tucks and rolls to one side, swinging to aim for Jaune's midsection.]

[He contemplates possibly calling for a rematch with the armor shod, just so this isn't as viciously stacked in Wash's own favor.]

[aurabble]

[His aura may negate the damage, but it doesn't do anything to help his balance. He flies back with an "Oof!" his back hitting the sand. Gathering himself up, he rushes at Wash and slides the rest of the way, trying to hit Wash's feet out from under him.]

[counterblows]

[Wash's error is in the way his guard drops, concern momentarily overriding his combative default. He's floored with a faint grunt of surprise, landing with a soft whumpf in the sand.]

[Swiftly, he tries to hook his ankle around one of Jaune's to bring him to the ground just the same.]

[aurabble]

Ow-!

[Jaune ends up eating a face-full of sand, the abrasive surface leaving a scratch on the side of his jaw. A pale lunar glow surrounding him and the scratch fades like a mirage. Scrambling up, he yells...

And tries to tackle Wash with the staff.]

[counterblows]

Fuck -

[He yanks his staff upwards, instinctively, until it lines up with his shoulders in an attempt to maintain some leverage while flat on his back in the sand. The risk there would be the threat of Jaune pressing down enough to lock the haft of it down over his throat, thus effectively ending the match, but it gives him the most power to push back.]

[aurabble]

[Pushed back, Jaune keeps his body low to the ground to avoid falling over. He starts circling Wash again, watching for any movements, deciding to switch to the defensive for now.]

[counterblows]

[He snaps to his feet in a tight roll and - ]

[Starts flurrying blows at the kid at breakneck speed; light, fast, rapid taps, mostly aiming for the easily damaged extremities - hands, feet, knees, elbows.]

[aurabble]

[Yeah he's not

He's not fast. He makes an attempt to block them, at first, but when he can barely do that, let alone counter, he starts taking the hits to try and tire him out. It hurts, but he's dealt with worse.

His knees are starting to hurt though...

This is fine.]

[counterblows]

You yield?

[His breathing isn’t quite labored, but it’s sharp and athletic, and he’s not about to slow down. Yield, he beseeches mentally, as of the sheer force of the thought alone might somehow encourage Jaune to do exactly that.]

[aurabble]

No.

[His eyes narrow; he's making this far more dramatic than it needs to be.]

I'll never yield. [But he isn't...moving either.]

[counterblows]

[Wash considers that.]



[Then, he shrugs.]

Okay.

[One fully armored space marine aiming to knock the legs out from under you one last time, coming your way!!!]

[aurabble]

Crap-

[There go his legs. Jaune pants on the ground, the light of his aura surrounding the injured areas and fizzling out before they can fully heal. He looks confused, no longer accustomed to moving with any lingering pain, but...whatever. He's not giving up just yet and tries to stand back up in time before the match can end.]

[counterblows]

[Wash’s eyes narrow behind the visor of his helmet, eyeing the glow as it coils up around the kid’s legs and then abruptly fades. Whatever it is, maybe he shouldn’t be too concerned; maybe it evens the playing field some.]

[Then again, maybe not.]

[He spins and swings, trying to keep Jaune down.]

[aurabble]

[That's so weird. Why aren't they hea--

That's certainly a staff aimed to knock him down again. Jaune tries to be graceful about it, doing a midair backflip, when the incoming staff smacks him right in the forehead, sending him sliding down the sandy beach a few yards away.

He groans loudly.]

[counterblows]

Are we done?

[It's cautious - trying to gauge if the kid is okay as opposed to mocking him over what might be a potential loss.]

[aurabble]

N- Nope.

[Grunting, he uses his free hand to push himself up, frowning grimly at his opponent, knees buckling as he grips the staff to remain standing.]

Maybe.

[counterblows]

[A sigh, brief and fuzzing behind his helmet's filter.]

Look, that wasn't fair. I can give you a rematch without the armor.

[aurabble]

What, like go easy on me? [He narrows his eyes suspiciously. Yes, maybe the match wasn't fair. Or maybe it was. Either way, it's his own fault.]

[counterblows]

I didn't say go easy on you. I just meant this is military-grade power armor, and it's the kind of thing you take into battle when you have to kill four hundred pound elite battlemasters.

[They take this shit onto the frontlines, up against the Sangheili, for fuck's sake.]

[aurabble]

Well maybe I want to fight four hundred pound elite battlemasters without any armor.

[But he doesn't feel as terrible now...]

But if you want a rematch, it's not like I have anything else going on right now.

[counterblows]

You would die.

[It's blunt, and to the point, but he folds his arms across his chest harness and stares at the kid, careful and assessing.]

Are you always this competitive?

[aurabble]

You don't know that, you don't know me. You don't know my life.

[Stubbornly, he puts his hands on his hips.]

Are you stalling, or genuinely curious?

[counterblows]

[Wash reaches up, slowly, deliberately, and thumbs the seals at the chin of his helmet. The release pops with a faint hiss, and he pulls it off and over his head.]

[The man underneath is, perhaps, ordinary. He has terrible helmet hair; cornflower-gold and sticking up like spikes of thorns. The spatters of freckles mottling his copper-colored skin do nothing to hide the thick, winding snakes of scar tissue - across the bridge of his nose, bisecting one eyebrow, peppering his temple on one side of his head.]

[He sets the helmet down, and, with the same direct, precise tone, begins to remove the rest of his armor in pieces.]

[It's a lengthy process. It's not SPARTAN armor, but it still comes in a lot of parts.]

Sure. Let's call it curiosity.