[DROP] Teine ​​is fortan

DEIMOS Delivered from the blasts The fire woman spoke, in between the vivid, wild plumes of flames and embers, declaring sentiments and purposes for bringing them all forward, for sending out siren songs, asking them what they stood for, what they were worth, what value they’d been christened and anointed. Instantly, a part of him thought about replying the truth: nothing. He didn’t have any particular talent other than killing, and most, with enough gumption, weaponry, and malice, could devastate another. Naught made him remarkable, above the rest; sometimes utterly indifferent and apathetic to the world around him, fortifying his walls, his iron, stone-clad demeanor, meandering through the shadows because it was comfortable and familiar. Other moments he was mischief and mayhem, caught in the amiability and affability of those who dared to get closer, to see beyond the ramparts and munitions. Then, in those idle, stretched out moments, he was the great unknown, a void, a vessel, empty and forlorn, tied into desolation and enigmas, wandering on precipices, waiting for a chance to strike, a purpose to snag and tie to his heart. He'd once been dead, but that didn’t appear to be anything substantial either – wound from his grave and into another time, another place, another world – without answers, clear, concise pictures meant to send him elsewhere. The Reaper simply remained, chained and chiseled, sculpted and molded, struggling to surface, but refusing to give in. And…perhaps that was it. His defiance, his sedition, his inability to surrender or concede, digging in, irreverent to the anthems, to the masses, who craved for him to crack and sever, fall apart at the seams. He dared and distorted, schemes and ruses compiled through Machiavellian contemplation, cold-blooded and determined, a bestial form meant to endure, persist, and persevere. The piercing depths of his eyes looked nowhere else but at the unknown woman and her fire, the overflow of others’ answers barely billowing in his ears. It was only the steady drum of his answer pulsing its way through his mouth, deep intonations pervading towards the seeker. “Resolve.” the last of a line of lasts

RORY

i told the stars about you

But not even embarrassed ghosts were left alone.

From somewhere—the forest, the darkness, the back of his mind—Amalia materialized, as silent as the breeze. She didn't comment on his state, for which he was grateful; he didn't feel awake enough to be able to explain it away, or even own up to it with a straight face. It was a peculiar kind of shame that burned just beneath his skin, the flush kept out of his cheeks only by the night's chill.

She swung her dark cloak around his shoulders. The fabric whispered through the dark. "Thank you," he breathed as he tugged it around himself, hiding away his pale legs in its folds.

He realized he had paid very little attention to what was going on, too startled to find himself awake and near-naked in the great woods he had only seen from the Spire's top. Jigano was there, he had seen him turn, but he remained where he was, and there was Remi, of course, with a fox of his own...

Then the fire-lady on the river spoke, seemingly to herself, before addressing them all. A trait that made them valuable? Rory's eyebrows drew into a small, concerned frown, while his stomach flipped uncomfortably: the cold realization that he had never considered himself in terms of value before. He was just Rory, hands and heart and eyes, good at some things, worse at others, but not inherently valuable.

One by one the gathering began to offer their theories, some choosing to interpret it as individual traits, others trying to speak for the whole group.

Rory's heart was racing with the question, the adrenaline like a crack of fire through his veins. He felt a little sick with it.

Maea said the first thing he had thought of—they were all alive, weren't they? His gaze drifted to Wessex. Surely you had to be alive, if you were capable of dying, even if it wasn't quite the traditional definition of being alive. But could he say the same thing as another had already done? Was it what he wanted to say?

"We listen," he ended up saying, then winced slightly. What a dumb thing to say.

WESSEX

Many of her acquaintances come: Rory, Amalia, Deimos, Lucas, and others. She probably should have stepped up and offered at least one of them a hello, but she is flying solo tonight. And if that makes her rude, then so be it - the strange woman (even more native than herself? Or spirit?) can tack herself on to the end of the long list of people who already think her so. Wessex hmphs quietly to herself, unable to tell if she’s amused or not.

So. Apparently they’ve all been called here for a reason, and her initial thoughts indicate a personal trait, she notes the lack of plurality in the lady’s syntax. The large group seems to be unevenly split, and so she wonders why they don’t hedge their bets and answer both ways? Endurance? Yes. Resolve? Sure. Alive? A cop-out of an answer, but yeah, they had to be alive to get their asses here. Something both snarky and falsely profound leaps to the tip of her tongue as she looks around, but before she can say it, Rory takes the words right out of her mouth. But when has something like that ever stopped her?  She nods her head a bit, then decides to add on her own twist.. “Yeah, we’re shit at listening to each other, but apparently we could all hear you. Must be in tune with something larger than ourselves.

She shrugs a little. “But if you’re asking us about ourselves, I’d say it’s that I know myself and am unapologetic about who I am, for better or worse.

Wessex is full of contradictions. She is an enigma to some, a light for others. She has mood swings and a fucking huge ego, but she’s smart and cunning. She’s a survivor.

So that’s like, three answers in one. But no one ever said there were rules. And breaking them is sometimes what Wessex does very,very well.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

LILY

cover your crystal eyes
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

Lucas manages to startle her for a moment, causing her to try and cover up her reaction with a soft laugh, a hand on her chest and a jest on her tongue. “Jesus. You trying to scare the pants off me or something?” Which, like, wouldn’t be the worst thing ever, she does try to keep her exhibitionism to smaller groups. Flashing him a wide smile cause it’s not like she could hold a grudge against such a devilishly handsome man, she ignores his first comment in favor of the second.

“Warm enough,” she whispers softly back, taking one of his hands, if he’ll allow it, and placing the palm against her cheek. “See?” She might be flushed in the dark, but she also feels vibrantly, alive. As for the question asked of them and Lucas’s answer, she rolls her eyes a bit, but takes her time deciding her own. Is she asking about them as a whole, or individually? One lady chooses to answer both, and that seems to be the best route, but then again, she doesn’t really know any of the deeper qualities of her peers.

“We’re ready to help each other, if anyone needs it. Up for anything.” she comes up with at last, though it sounds more like a question than a statement. “But when I’m in performance mode, you can’t take your eyes off me.” Or so she's heard.

Did she mention she was humble, too?

Amalia I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map I knew that somehow I could find my way back Jigano's glance is not unnoticed; she wonders why he does not draw closer, but chocks it up to his curiosity, his natural inclination to participate and inquire. She is an observer by nature, content to stay to the sidelines and watch, and think, and worry, and wait. So she remains in the shadows as the firelit woman speaks, eyes bright with interest as flames lick from her hands and lips, listening to see what challenge will come next. Valuable. Like many others, Amalia hesitates, quelled into silence by the unexpected question. What makes them valuable? Her brows furrow tightly, confusion and uncertainty written across her face. What makes her valuable? She can bake, she thinks: a value to the community. She is relatively conscientious: a value to friends. Some of the values she holds herself to are spoken already: perseverance. Endurance. Listening. Helping. But does she embody any of these values, these virtues, these traits? And what of them do they, as a people, share? She reaches out a hand for Rory's as the man beside her speaks, offering and asking for reassurance. "I try to be better," she says at last, her voice shaky in the night. "Always. We all do, I think. We adapt and survive and build and live. We could give up, but we don't." She swallows, remembering Ludo's call, her brief flirt with death and the powerful appeal it held - still holds, if she is being honest, looking closely and diligently at the darkest corners of her heart. "I try to be better than I was before." Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you

Caiside rose slowly from his bow as the strange woman began to speak, golden eyes following the flourish of her arms. He was enchanted by every part of this, the flames, her voices, the mystery behind it. She spread her flame to two others, Caiside’s eyes jealously flashing over them before returning to her. He was not the first to answer, having to think about the question, about the strangers around him. Nearly every one of these people were strangers to him. There was a rest number of things Caiside could think of about himself, but trying to decide for a group was near impossible. At last though, something came to him, words springing to his lips. ”Every one of us has the potential to grow still. And the freedom to choose how.” It seemed sensible enough to him. Caiside I have never been allowed to be Holy, I have never been forgiven for Wanting;

Their answers are so boring. They sound rehearsed, though how they might have known her question was coming she can't even hazard a guess. "You don't even know me and you all act like you want to impress me. So if that's what you want, FINE!"

As the word fine leaves her lips, those gathered are unceremoniously tugged together with only about a foot or so of space in between. Immediately a ring of fire encircles each pair, steadily tightening as the seconds tick by. Like a hovering hula-hoop of foot-high flames, each pair (and one trio) would only have seconds to decide what to do.

"Go on then!" She laughs. "Impress me with all those clever skills you think you bring."

---

You have 48 hours to reply.

Your random pairings are as follows:

Ianto - Deimos
Jigano - Remi
Amalia - Wessex - Maea
Phoebe - Are
Rory - Adam
Lily - Lucas

Eliza, Arthur, Kalt, Ashe, and Caiside are all disqualified for not posting within the time-limits. Because of this, you may NOT use this drop to fulfill your levelling requirements.

all we are is skin & bone trained to get along

Before much could be done or said or thought, suddenly Remi found himself nearly nose-to-nose with Jigano, a ring of fire encircling them and the strange woman's laughter echoing in the background.

Go on then! The voice encouraged, and the alchemist's studious mind began to spin.

He knew (or thought he knew) that Jigano was an accepted. That meant he had no magic or animal shifts that could help them out of what would soon become a literal bind. The bard was fast though, from what the alchemist had seen. Perhaps he—they?—could slip below the line of fire and roll out? Or could they go up?

However for as quickly as these thoughts came to his mind, it wasn't fast enough, and the fiery circle narrowed further. With a hasty inhale, Remi clenched his teeth together and began to build. Earth rose dramatically around them like a hollow cylinder. The alchemist hoped that  the wall of stone and soil would block the fire, or at least buy them time.

"Climb!" He instructed, holding his hands together to create a foothold for the bard and looking up, indicating where clear hand-holds had been etched into the side of the earthen wall for Jigano to put his fingers into. At the top of the cylinder there would be a sort of platform for them to stand on, hopefully, where perhaps they could assist the others.

forever going with the flow, but you're friction

Coding base by Sky!

She had asked and received - but what she had heard wasn't what she had wanted to hear, it seemed. Whether, in the end, she had expected an answer from each individual or a trait they all held in common he supposed he would never know.

And the uncertainty ate at Jigano, like fire ants just beneath his skin.

Perhaps it was for the best that he was given no time to dwell on it. A moment later he found himself dragged across the ground to an almost-abrupt meeting with Remi, the young alchemist looking just as startled as the wide-eyed bard in that moment at how easily they had been compelled. It was easy to see his expression, given the fire that had sprung up around them, and Jigano swore softly under his breath as he dragged his long hair forward and tucked it into his tunic to keep it from catching a wayward spark.

One option would be to change into a raven and simply fly out of the trap. Remi had his hawk form, though, a much larger and heavier bird that would have trouble taking off straight up. More and more people knew that he was an Attuned and it wasn't worth either of their lives to continue to hide the secret-

But just as he opened his mouth to suggest Remi transform, the other man moved - or rather, his magic did. Earth and stone rumbled up around them and Jigano nearly forgot the seriousness of the moment to chuckle in appreciation at the pup's quick thinking. "On it!" he said, even as he was already in motion, taking the offered assistance with a light step and ruefully glad he hadn't put on much weight since he'd arrived. Swift and deft as a squirrel he scaled the helpful handholds Remi had embedded on the cylinder, and as soon as he was atop it he reached down to help his erstwhile partner up the last few feet. "How many of the others can you do this for?" he asked, eyes scanning the other trapped attendees for two in particular, though he feared it might already be too late, with how fast their own ring had been shrinking.

Still, he had to try.

Without waiting for an answer, knowing Remi would seek to save his friends without the bard's suggestions distracting him, Jigano attempted to drop over the outside of the earthen cylinder and past their own fire ring, hitting the ground at a roll and heading grimly towards where he had caught a glimpse of Rory's golden head amidst the flames.

Adam

It starts with a teaspoon of trouble - It ends in bliss and penury
There is no pension plan for heroes - So you'll want to get the hell out of my way

Adam wanted to argue, to point out when you were a weird fire-wielding woman making demands in the forest you didn't get to be upset with how people reacted to that. But before he could object he was being dragged and postioned next to some guy he didn't know.

He was kinda hot, actually. But there wasn't time for that given the circle of fire all around them.

"Fuck..uh." Instinctively he called out in his mind for Coffee to come help, unsure of what else to do with the approaching flames threatening his nice expensive boots. Coffee came flying in from the trees, having been watching from the shadows, and swooped down into the fire for a few seconds at a time, creating little windows where he blocked the fire. Adam timed himself then jumped over, motioning for Rory to follow behind his shoulder and thanking Coffee, promising a reward later.

Are

The word cut through his thoughts like nothing before, a well stropped razor that made him shiver with the underlying power in the voice. Power made clear as flames engulfed him and a woman he'd seen but never spoken more than a word in passing to.

A being of Muspelheim letting loose her powers invoked that paralyzing fear he was so familiar with. An iron fist clutching his spine and making every muscle seize up. A rabbit caught in the gaze of the eagle, a split second before running, but never able to tumble over the edge into action.

Persevere. It rang silver in his mind and forced his eyes to snap from their captor to his cell mate. A moment shared and a hasty idea taken form. Muscles finally springing into action and ripping his shield from his back, tossing it on the fire to provide what little protection it could as he reached out for Phoebe's hand with only one word on his lips. "Jump!"

PHOEBE

Humbleness? Meant to impress? That was rather an oxymoron wasn’t it. Phoebe blinked in confusion, unsure how she was supposed to prove herself, seeing as she seemed to have miss-stepped already. But before she could ponder long, she was pulled across the grass, standing near a fellow she frankly didn’t recognize. Though, he was the other one that the woman shot fire at, wasn’t he? She had been about to ask his name when just as suddenly a ring of fire appeared around them.

And then it got smaller.

She gasped, unsure what to do in her moment of panic. But really, there was only one choice wasn’t there? The man grabbed her hand and she nodded at his command, her fingers curling round his. With her other hand she grabbed up her skirts to keep the fabric high and taught before jumping up and over the hoop of fire. Safe on the other side, she looked around worriedly at others who had yet to get out from the ring of flames. ”Quick! Jump over it!” she called out to those nearest her, the command in her tone mimicking her midwife voice; calm and collected, but leaving no room for argument. They needed to move quickly!

I look up to the little bird
The flies across the sky
And I, I wish that I could be that bird
And fly away from here

it's not what it looks like

Oh, but this spirit was a feisty one. Then again most spirits Ianto had met seemed to share that trait, but even so, the sudden appearance of the ring of fire was both unexpected and unwanted. With the apology still unsaid on his lips from any offence he might have given, he found himself stumbling back into a true colossus of a man (who was frightfully easy on the eyes, he might add). Alas, Ianto was no hero - besides, this guy looked as though he could step over the fire in one stride, barely burning the hairs on his bal— er, his legs.

”Good to meet you, friend,” he quipped to Deimos, smiling up at the stern face. ”Sorry about this. I’m Ianto, and I’m about to owe you a pretty big favour.” Why was that, you might ask? Well, without further ado, Ianto shifted back into his fox form and wasted little time in leaping up into Deimos’s arms and hopefully into his shoulders. Safe from fire, at least. Safe from the other man though? Only time would tell.

lucas please allow me to introduce myself Lucas had been looking forward to a lovely conversation with Lily after this silly fire woman business was over. Regrettably, the moment was rudely interrupted by an inopportune circle of flames, and something instinctive in the Ascended wanted to recoil violently back from them. Only his stint as the devil himself saved him the embarrassment, and he set his jaw and squinted through the heat and smoke towards the other groups, in identically dire straits. But there wasn’t nothing to be done. Where there was fire there was light, and the light brought shadows. Shadows that leapt in a trio of darkness around both Lily and Lucas, protecting them from the flames. His adventure in the basement of the Spire had taught him that his clever new ability was for more than just parlour tricks. His shadows could attack, defend and, in this case, stop them from getting toasted. ”If you would, my lady.” He smirked at Lily and offered her his arm. Should she take it, he would walk them through the fire with his shadows swathed around them like a shield.