lifeaftr | August Event: The City is at War

AUGUST EVENT: THE CITY IS AT WAR

Who: Everyone!
What: You pick a side, or you pick up the pieces
When: August 16th to August 23rd
Where: Primarily Nastrandir, though also Ensō
Warnings: Violence, injury, forcibly altered mindsets via magical influence, possible character death. Potential (and fully optional) dissociation and identity crises. Potential (and fully optional) spontaneous combustion. Otherwise, tag as you go!

We All Lose in the End
On cue, the recently uncovered...and decidedly faulty merotome shatters on the morning of August 16th. Those close enough may recall an odd popping noise, like a lightbulb exploding, or find a shard of some odd, rubbery substance caught in their hair. The wave that shoots out across both islands barely seems to stir the air, but the aftershocks of its passing are to be felt for the week to come.

Whether or not you noticed the sweeping burst of light as it roared over just about everything, you're bound to hear the loud, wailing sound that starts to emit from all over Nastrandir. It sounds like the world's worst kind of alarm, and it just keeps on going.

That's to say nothing of the automatons rising steadily from the murk, or the fact that you might find that some of your fellow explorers are suddenly seeming a lot more trustworthy...and some of them are seeming a lot less. Maybe you latch onto personal terrors and preexisting grudges to justify the new onset of violence that starts to divide you from some of your fellows...or maybe it just feels right in some unquantifiable sense.

Regardless, those impacted by the merotome will find themselves gravitating towards Nastrindar sooner rather than later. Members of the Red Team are likely to initially head towards the ruins on C4 and D4. The swampy water flooding the island will eventually drive you to seek out more mountainous areas; the need to keep dry will vary from a strong desire to an absolute necessity, depending on the individual. As territorial instincts rear their head, this group will find that the war automatons no longer view them as hostiles. Now, these mechanical killers may even take basic orders, such as watching a certain location, fetching some basic materials, and, of course, upon whom they should aim their primary fire.

Meanwhile, the Blue Team will congregate along the shorelines, striking out inland through any route that keeps them close to a body of water - or in it. More likely to travel and fight in a pair or group, it's unlikely that members of this group will stay from the main party for too long, as their power is largely in numbers. While no automatons accompany them into battle, the waters surrounding and soaking into Nastrandir are their greatest ally, as they are capable of replenishing strength and healing minor wounds. Members of the Blue Team will be capable of continuing the fight for much longer than their Red counterparts, and their affinity with the waters will make them difficult to locate or pursue unless they wish it.

You Don't Get Another Shot
For those more resistant to the effects of this sudden shift will find that they're now unfortunately adrift between two warring factions, potentially with friends on either side. There is hope, however - those previously silent sirens are now blaring constantly, and it's very possible that their destruction could turn the tide against this needless bloodshed. The more of those you break, the looser the grip of this altered mindset will become, and the less hostile the automatons will be.

Keep in mind, however, that while you may feel unaffected, the possibility stands that you've been marked for one side without your knowledge. And though this may prove advantageous to getting through to those that identify you as their own, those that do not may take your attempts to shake their morale badly.

Even violently.

Stick Around and See How It Ends
Thus far, the teams are as follows. If you see any problems, inconsistencies, or wish to change teams, please don't hesitate to contact us! While we're no longer accepting sign-ups to be RNG'd into a team, you can still decide retroactively which side you'd like your character to be situated on, if at all!

RED TEAM	BLUE TEAM
Alexei Dinoia Amaterasu Anthony J. Crowley Asgore Dreemurr Connor Murphy Edward Elric Erika Fisher Jules Dagger Samari Leonard Church Muffet Tim Wright Yukio Okumura Zidane Tribal	2B Alisaie Leveilleur Agent Washington Ben Hargreeves The Drifter Epsilon Héctor Rivera Herbert West Horatio Nullbuilt Kravitz Legion Mollymauk Tealeaf Ren Rin Okumura Steve Rogers

In the meantime, the following links may prove handy:

[ ♆ ] OOC Event Info and Plotting Post
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Intro
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Locations Page

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] August 16th: The merotome breaks, issuing a mind-altering wave; the sirens go off, and definitive sides in a conflict start to form
[ ♆ ] August 23rd: The conflict ends when those who have not been freed from the mind-altering influence either break free or burn to death
[ ♆ ] August 24th: The monthly Storytelling occurs late; characters who have died are revived in time to participate
[ ♆ ] September 4th: Extra time is allotted to those participating in the monthly Storytelling to compensate for the later date, and the Storytelling closes

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[All Guzma has to do is follow the gunshots. He hates the sound, so unused to them that they make his skin jump and his heart race uncomfortably. Worse though, is that he knows these weapons are capable of instant death in most cases, and yet...he has no choice but to go near them. Because that's where others will be. That's where his friends will be, his family. He has to swallow down the tightness in his throat, the cold stone in his gut, and the tremble of his hands with every bang of gunfire.

Nothing really drowns it out, as much as he tries.

Thankfully, his concern or others is stronger than his fear, and when he sees the Drifter fighting of one of the automatons, he shelves his fright and begins to think. He needs range, since going face to face with the metal monster isn't...really a great idea. He nor his Pokemon have the speed or agility that the Drifter has, and not even Golisopod's hard shell could stop that many bullets. One arm is gone, torn from the robot in a lash of blue-white light and showering sparks, and Guzma sucks in a breath. I he can stop the other from firing, or moving at all, then maybe they'd have a better shot of taking it down. That way...maybe, hopefully he can talk some sense into his friend.]

Dang, I hope this works... [A deep, steadying breath, and Guzma releases his Golisopod. The big guy has one ranged attack - just one - but it's a good one.] Aim that ice beam at the gun, bro.

[Please work.]

[The Drifter's ammunition is limited, though they haven't yet remembered it. Three more shots sends the robot crashing to the ground with a loud, furious metallic clang,but its remaining arm still fires upon them sporadically. The rifle clearly did its damage on the large, metal chassis - parts of it are torn open where the piercing bullets entered.]

[They pay a heavy price for their victory. One of the bullets clips them across the shoulder, and sends the Drifter stumbling back.]

[They've not yet realized how fragile they are, either.]

[The remaining arm is halted, mid fire, by a beam of blue-white light slamming into it. Very suddenly, the air itself seems to condense and solidify into a thick block of ice. The gun's barrel is caked in it, and the robot's joints seem to have also been covered in ice and frost, but it can still move. Move enough to start beating the frozen block against the ground, to break the ice. Smart little buggers...

Guzma curses, moving toward the Drifter when he sees a splash of their pink blood. He doesn't know where they've been hit, but it's not like it really matters. They've been hit is all he needs to know, to grab at their arm and try to pull them away.]

It's down, leave it!! [Is it really important? The thing is barely operable. It can't move, it's on its side, one of its guns is damaged... They can escape now, lick their wounds, and destroy it from afar if they really, truly have to. There's no reason to keep fighting it. There's no reason to keep fighting.] I'll be behind you, just go!

[There's no reason to keep fighting besides the unrelenting certainty that they must. They were created for this, and for this alone. There's a hand on their arm, and it takes them a moment to trace it back to its origins.]

[And their blade blitzes to life with a scorching hum of cyan.]

[This is not one of their own.]

[This is an intruder. Some unaligned, unknown variable that they cannot afford to allow near them. Not in a state of injury. Not ever.]

[The blade is swung dangerously close with Guzma's face, and he sucks in a breath as all he can see is the glare of blue-white light in front of him. It's blinding, and the ringing in his ears manages to drown out even the scream of the sirens all around. He barely hears the bellow of his Pokemon as it howls with indignant fury at the Drifter, manages to force out his voice just in time to stop the charge he knows is coming from his Pokemon. Like everyone, Golisopod is on high alert as well, in full preservation mode - whether it's itself, or its Trainer. No one is a friend right now, no one but Guzma and his fellow Pokemon.]

Don't!! [Whether the command is made to Golisopod or the Drifter, one can only guess, but Guzma releases them regardless, putting an arm's length between them, but he still seems poised for...something. He's unhappy, to say the least, or perhaps scared? It may very well be a mixing of the two, and he's not sure how to really handle it all.] Don't make me have to fight you, man! I don't wanna fight anyone!

For the first time in my dang life, I don't wanna fight anyone!! So just listen to me!

[A roar from the beast that nearly comes stampeding at them - called to a halt by the not-ally, the not-enemy, the enemy by default, for reasons beyond them. It doesn't make any sense at all. This is a war zone, a battlefield, and he's insisting that he does not want to fight.]

[If this was his priority, perhaps he should not have traveled to a battlefield.]

[They step back several paces. Their sword is still alight. There is still a threat here, even if it isn't an immediate one.]

[But they're giving him a moment longer than they would have given a direct foe.]

August Event: The City is at War

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