usirmods: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/dWnlw (Breath of Usir)
Usir Mods ([personal profile] usirmods) wrote in [community profile] usir2018-12-16 08:09 am

Mini-Event: Skywhale + Day of Lefkokó

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The Skywhale & Day of Lefkokó
🜙 The Skywhale
After fierce retaliation and an increase in city-wide defensive power and measures, it seems as if the orc attacks have, at least for the moment, begun to subside. Along with the lessened threat of orc ambushes, the first storms of winter have died down to a gentle and occasional snow flurry, leaving the world peacefully blanketed in powder snow and a calm stillness. The City of the Free Peoples take this time to celebrate the final repairs of the airship, the Skywhale. With sail balloon once more filled and the engines working hard to keep the air within it warm, easier and safer travel is once more available.

The Skywhale leaves once a day in the early morning to head for Didymos, and today is its maiden voyage since the repairs. Thalassa has changed greatly in the last century, blossoming into a massive port and military city, with resources and opportunities unavailable in the more eclectic Cty of the Free Peoples. Restless legs may find their chance to stretch to a new experience. Sail the skies aboard the Skywhale and see Thalassa's grand transformation to Didymos for yourself. Catch the voyage back before nightfall, or remain in Didymos until the ship's return the following day. There is plenty to see and do in the city by the sea. You can even see Logistykon's reef from aboard the Skywhale's deck as it swings around to dock. It is a grim but beautiful sight in the clear blue waters.

While the threat of fire and orc ambush has diminished greatly, the City of the Free Peoples is filled with a sense of unease and discomfort as repairs on the city and attempts to put lives back together continue. Murmurs of discontent slip through the city streets, along with rumors that this is all Lykos' fault or accusations that the Captain might be hiding something. For every murmur of distrust, however, there are counters of the heroics and quick action that helped keep the city strong and beat the orcs back.

There has still been no word from Krimnos or the airship, Valiant, that usually hails from the cliff city daily. Messengers have not made their wing from the city and those sent to the cliffs have not returned. It's not unusual for this time of year, but the absence is felt keenly by traveling merchants who need to get their wares to or from the city. A journey by horse or on foot would be risky, but the potential rewards for escorting a company up to the cliffs could prove significant.
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🜙 Day of Lefkokó
No matter what city you find yourself in, the dawn of the 17th sees a change in mood and atmosphere across Idan. Snow has stopped falling and the sky is a bright, clear blue. The weather warms enough to cause water to drip softly from the icicles hanging off every awning and outcrop. Decorations of magical or crafted snowflake art and blue ice flames line city streets and building windows, and jovial merriment spills out into the streets. A sweet wine made from frostberries, warm honey-mead, and spiced apple drinks are offered in taverns, inns, and small shops or homes, a free offering to be had with sweet or spiced cheeses and spiced or candied nuts and fruits. It's a celebration that is far from unfamiliar, one that has been celebrated for centuries across Idan's towns and cities, though the methods and particulars of the celebration have always varied from place to place and people to people.

December is the month of the White Raven, and in particular, this day is a day to honor him. Lefkokó, the deity of dance, freedom, madness, and cunning sits at the head of the cause of these festivities and his domains are the focus of the celebrations. Today is a day of dance, drinking, and games of skill and chance. A day to test your bluffing skills, show off, and take deep joy and pride in the liberties and opportunities available to all. Few work on this day, beyond the essentials, and everyone who is able to takes part in this moment of freedom and relaxed expectations or responsibilities.

The cities are alive with music and dancing, and the taverns are a swirl of chaos amidst high stake games of cunning and chance. Clever minds clash over riddles, old and new, and as the day progresses a lack of sobriety becomes increasingly evident in the streets and establishments alike.

As the sun reaches the highest point in the sky and the shadows dwindle to near nothingness, the aviaries of all three cities release the newest flock of rare juvenile snow ravens to their freedom, letting them take wing to the skies for their first ever flights. The flocks of snow ravens, the most coveted of magic familiars, fly off to the wildlands after practicing their acrobatic feats and visiting various areas of the city in search of food to give them energy for the journey ahead. Once they take their leave of the city, many begin to seek out hidden trinkets, magical herbs, and small, rare items across Idan with a precise and dedicated focus.

Those who honor Lefkokó by celebrating in his name may be visited by his rare and clever emissaries later in the month with an offering of thanks from Lefkokó himself.
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🜙 A Warning.
By the 18th the orc camp has been abandoned, the animals freed and the orcs, whatever was left of them, appear to have fled. Retreat is unusual, even more so for them to cut their creatures loose and flee without triumph or trophy, but this is something different. Many of the weapons, trinkets, and armors coveted by the warring orcs have been left behind, and the fires trampled and stamped out with apparent urgency. Tracks lead to the south a few miles and then vanish into snow in the direction of Lake Atéleio. It and the land south and west of it are consumed in a blizzard blown over from the sea, and tracking beyond that point becomes nearly impossible, though by this point it is assumed the Orcs have retreated to Spear Valley. Whether or not they will return is unclear.

Those in the City of the Free Peoples on the 18th will receive another message, this one from a less mysterious source, addressing the coming dangers.

Though the attacks have set preparations back a few weeks I would like to quell any worries. The Long Night approaches, but you are a city of strong, brave folk. The threats on the horizon will not be the end of this city any more than these raucous attacks have been.

Supplies can be claimed from the defender's camp for any struggling to make the necessary preparations. Those who have lost their homes will be provided shelter and supplies. When the Long Night comes, keep your children indoors, your fires stoked, and your buildings shuttered. There is nothing to fear. Your defenders will keep you safe.
-Captain Lykos

Several hours later a second and then a third message is received across all kingdoms. It comes only to the couriers of the awakened. The first comes as an audio message: A dull scraping sound followed by the click and whine of metal dragging across stone and the dripping of thick, viscous liquid somewhere distant. It ends abruptly and a simple thought message, short and uncomfortable, follows it.
silarclupes
irom otnemem

The message has no signature.
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fuga: (the dawn again)

lauralae | ota

[personal profile] fuga 2018-12-16 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Lefkokó.
[ The day of Lefkokó is not something she is altogether familiar with. She had grown up in a different temple altogether, had worshipped something a touch different to the deity of dance and freedom. She respects the nature of it, of course, and she recognises the fact that it is worth having a date of this kind, a celebration to take the edge off the sharpness of an orc attack and the suddenness of being awake again, but she does not want to take part in it unless there is some means for her to prove that worth.

Lauralae never lived in a temple to Lefkokó. The constellation holds less meaning to her than it might others. Her heart hangs on another mantle - and she does not know who is aware of it.

She does not, therefore, spend much time sitting by herself, making herself comfortable in the wrappings of red and whatever black fabrics she can find. People are loud as they dance, people celebrate and speak and chat, and her nose wrinkles, settling in a corner as she makes herself comfortable. There's a scrap of wood in her hands and a raven on her shoulder as she begins to scrape and carve, spending her time making small trinkets and animals, placing wood to the side of her as she goes.

She does not pay much attention to any strangers, but sometimes she can be caught making a prayer of sorts, her eyes closed as she whispers. ]
A Warning.
[ It is difficult for her to ignore the urge to bury her hands in the miscellaneous things left behind from the orcs. She wants to take as much as she can, to loot and push things into her sack before she does anything else, self-preservation an instinct she cannot ignore. She does manage to scrape a few daggers, slipping them onto her belt with dark eyes darting here and there, but she does little else, moving to the the edge of the camp, towards the south.

She stares that way for a very long time, her raven flying overhead, scouting out the area in front before coming back to her shoulder and nudging his face into her chin and hair, grooming her while Lauralae pays no attention whatsoever.

Sitting alone a little later, she listens to the message, a frown on her face. Nothing to fear - it's a curious thing, a strange whisper indeed. She is not afraid of the Long NIght, she is not afraid of what it might bring. She is ready to make her way forward and discover more when the next message comes, her eyes flickering as she sits alone, leaning against a tree and stroking idle fingers against the courier. ]


Silarclupes. [ A frown, the raven on her shoulder squawking quietly. ] Irom otnemem.

[ No signature, no sign, and the sound of metal and liquid - it makes her think, and her legs are drawn up to her chest as she ponders it, soft and quiet. ]
Wildcard.
[ Anything else you might want / any other ideas! Feel free to ping me. ]
cryptsleeper: (arrogantpire)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-16 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
A. Aboard the Skywhale
[The opportunity to travel was something Alucard was taught to never refuse. A mandate. Travel as men do. And now men flew on great airships, the journeys that took days upon days now cut down to a fraction of the time.

To stand on the deck of the Skywhale and look down is a novelty. There have been so many journeys in the past, and hell, Alucard can fly if he puts real effort into his feral magic, but there's a difference between seeing things from that angle versus this one. The ship towers over the land.

His coat has been put aside for the time being, the ridiculously sized wolf that follows him everywhere content to lay atop it so it does not fly away. Alucard has traveled lightly in the past with only one bag to his name, but now he doesn't even have that.

Somewhere in all of this, there's a soft sigh, both hands on the railing that runs along the side of the deck.]


And it only took a century to create this technology. Remarkable.

[He's still furious about many things. This is not one of them.]

B. Didymos
Thalassa is not Thalassa anymore. The feeling of the city has changed, but of course it has. The streets aren't the same, hell, there are roads Alucard can recognize and they lead to dead ends now. Cities evolve. They must, they're living and breathing things. And there is no rush to return to the City of the Free Peoples. Not right now. There are other things to do.

i) The most important thing to do is determine how easy it is to return to Krimnos. That's done in the most straight forward way possible: hanging around the appropriate markets and listening to what is said by those in the know. Shop keepers, merchants, whoever is impacted by the airship not functioning.

The roads aren't an option. There's bandits. There's thieves. The river is starting to freeze, the wolf packs are hungry and a dozen other reasons besides. There's an aching familiarity to the problems, one Alucard wouldn't bat an eye at, but.

But if the ship is repaired first, is all the effort and potential risk truly worth it?

"Stunning how a storm brings the airships so low," he says to himself after overhearing a merchant's recounting of her attempt to brave the roads and all their threats.

ii) The struggles of the road do not discourage Alucard entirely from his total lack of patience in returning to Krimnos. He's spent the afternoon in quiet contemplation, having found a glassed in bar that overlooks the sea. His animas is curled up on his feet (said feet are so very asleep now), and there's a barely drunk glass of wine there.

There's seats on either side overlooking the water. Winter is strange on a shoreline. It's so stark, and the waves roar against the cold.

C. Warning

[Lupes

That's the only word Alucard thinks he can make out in that message. It's wolf related, and true enough, his animas is listening closely to this one. Alucard frowns at that and looks over his shoulder. Ellis is absolutely an asshole and rarely serious, so this demeanor is strange.]


Agreed. [The terrible thing stays in his hand, then shakes his head.] This thing contains nothing but ill will, I'm convinced.

Wildcard
You know the deal
Edited 2018-12-16 22:38 (UTC)
44pistolundermyhead: (back and lights)

Ellie | OTA

[personal profile] 44pistolundermyhead 2018-12-16 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[OOC: I liked a format that I saw on the other post, prompts to follow, post wildcard/specific things we discussed here!]
exaomori: (Default)

shura | ota

[personal profile] exaomori 2018-12-17 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
skywhale

The troublesome atmosphere brewing in the City of the Free Peoples is excuses enough to take a trip on the repaired Skywhale. If nothing else, it was a new experience, and honestly, it might have stood out if she never traveled by air before. It's stunning, the view of the world from so far up. And cold. It doesn't take more than a second for Shura to think about how Rin and Yukio would do on a voyage like this.

She doesn't want to think about them. Someone standing close by might notice the way her expression changes, her brow furrowing and her lips pressing together for just the briefest second. This isn't the kind of thing she handles well, so she'll overcompensate with a joke.

"Heheh, I wonder how many bad poems people have made about this view~?"

Lefkokó

a) Shura could care less about Lefkokó, but she'll readily take the chance to play around and drink more than she should. Cards, dice, anything to distract her. Dancing gets her heart rate up and gets her laughing, so she'll be quite happy to drag someone out of the crowd to dance with her. It doesn't matter if said someone might seem less than enthused about the prospect of dancing with her, she'll be tugging at them anyway. "C'mon, c'mon! Don't be shy~"

b) Later, there's the release of the snow ravens. It's a neat sight and all, but what's more fun is teasing some poor raven who spotted her food and decided to see if she'd give in to his croaking demands for a sausage. At first, Shura seemed to give in to his demands, but just as hes about to get his sweet sausage, she yanks it back out of his reach. And then she does it again. The raven is clearly getting annoyed with this game, and he lets out a squawk.

"What a funny face, nyeheh." Was it bad form to tease these guys? Probably, but Shura's tipsy and this is fun.
genice: (laugh | just a little drunk and happy)

[personal profile] genice 2018-12-18 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
ride the skies
He knew he would be on that first voyage if he could manage it, the idea of flight on something so ingenious like an itch he never knew he had. The top deck is cold, and the cold is a familiar fiend, one he bundles up against and finds himself smiling into as the winds catch at his him, tousling his hair.

The small white wolf at his side leaps up to place her paws on the railing, and Victor simply steps up behind her, his hands coming to rest on either side of her paws. "Have you ever seen anything like it, Makka?" he asks, his head lowered to speak by her ear. She hadn't, of course she hadn't, but there's a certain wonder in this that they both share, so acute they even find themselves laughing when the ship rocks in a strong crosswind, Victor bracing them both against the ship's side.

"Wow! Not quite like riding the sea, is it?"

Makka makes a hurrowling sound in her throat, tailtip twitching, ears flicking forward as she shoves her head back over the railing to peer down.
wake me up before you lefkokó
These were the kinds of celebrations he used to perform for, making use of his magic to enthrall and entertain. The energy of the crowd would feed into such performances, the challenge in the emotion he could pull out of them, the surprise he could leave them feeling, for better and for the more heartbroken. Victor's performances hadn't always been about happy things, but Lefkokó, that was. Dance, freedom, madness, cunning, those could be the cause of misfortune, but the day wasn't only focused on such things, as long as one was sensible about the games they played.

He missed the music. New music now, though some songs were familiar themes, a testimony to the strength of tradition across decades. He was always a quick ear, and now he listened and joined in the singing with the lusty crowds that pulled him in, a jovial smile or arm thrown over his shoulders inviting him and Makka to be part of the celebrations as if they all belonged.
i: If he spied someone he recognised from the tavern, he either offered them a mug of hot beverage (maybe the mead or the spiced wine or the apple cider), or he offered them a hand and a wink with a smile that said I know this is as silly as it seems, but maybe we can play along, just for a while.

"Join me for a dance?"

He wasn't any expert, but he was light on his feet, and the point to these folk-like traditions was to let the energy lead, not to fight it into court-like rigid behaviour.

ii: After the juveniles were released, Victor stood in one smaller square next to a broken fountain, Makka near his feet. Three of the juvenile ravens were across the fountain from him, feasting on crumbled bread he'd strewn around for them. He smiled, brief and nostalgic, before he stepped back and swept into a bow.

One of the ravens watched him, bobbing their head in turn. It was the only recognition he appeared to be looking for, because as he straigthened, he brought his hands up, cupping them together as he formed the magic in his mind.

He hadn't tried this particular magic in years. Wasn't even sure it would come to him as easily as it did before so much of his magic was invested into fighting, but he wanted it to respond like he remembered. Wanted it so badly that Makka whimpered, and Victor lifted his hands, setting free an illusionary raven that could never have fit into their limited space over his head.

As the illusion flew, Victor began to dance, face turned skyward, the sweep of his arms more emphatic than the movement of his legs in his half turns or spins, evocative of flight. Which was entirely the purpose, as the illusion dipped and twirled and joined in acrobatics that corresponded to Victor's movements on the ground: not exact copies, but the source of inspiration that guided.

The watching ravens cried out, hopping around on the ledge of the broken fountain. The one that had bobbed their head beat their wings to catch the air, diving toward the illusion, then banking away. It became a game, a dance between illusion and reality without the dramatics of so many of his shows from his youth. He kept it simple, the dancing flight of a snow crow that matched and complimented and spun away from the acrobatics of the true snow crow, first just one, then after a long moment, all three.

The dance came to an end with the illusion dropping back down to Victor, seeming to merge with him as he dispersed that magic, refracting light off himself and dazzling the whole of the small square and the ravens within it.

They cry out from where they wheel in the air, their playmate now gone, and he held up one arm as an invitation. Only one raven takes it, backwinging as it landed, talons cruel and careful as they grasped Victor's arm. The snow raven regarded Victor with one eye, then scooted up his arm, up to his shoulder, in dangerous reach of their powerful beak.

The snow raven reached out, preening part of Victor's bangs. Then they side-marched back down his arm, and with an expectant air, Victor smiled and closed his eyes. "As you like, snowbird," he said, dipping his arm and then lifting it skyward, helping throw the raven back into the bright midday skies.

The birds all wheeled away, soon gone as if they'd never been there at all.
starwords: (7)

David Haller | OTA to anyone in/around Didymos

[personal profile] starwords 2018-12-20 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Day of Lefkokó A.

[Early on in the day, David can be found crunching through the snow west of the city, walking where the shoreline met the more stable earth. The rhythmically soothing sound of the waves was peaceful and left him feeling a certain ease of existence he hadn't known in a long time. A golden retriever races back and forth across rocks mixed with snow not far from him, chasing sandpipers and crabs across the shore and occasionally dancing with the waves, running at the receding waters and then away from them as they advance. He plops down on a large rock, crossing his legs, and tugs the borrowed blanket around his shoulders for warmth, looking out at the bay.]

Day of Lefkokó B.

[ The vibrant, cheerful energy of Didymos in the midst of celebration is infectious for David. He joins in on drinks, food, dancing, anything he stumbles across with enthusiasm, occasionally borrowing an instrument or joining in on a ballad or song once he gets a feel for the words and rhythm of it. The food and drink of the festival catch his attention most, though, and at any given time he isn't without something in hand, sampling a strange sweet or an interesting smelling drink and then cheerfully offering to share with whoever is nearest.

More than anything though, David joins in on the dancing, thrilled at the opportunity to catch the nearest person by the hand and tug them into a fast-paced dance he has only recently learned the steps to and is far more focused on the rhythm than the pre-designed dance moves. He's a good dancer, at least, and unlikely to step on any toes as he offers a genuine smile, the lights reflected in his bright eyes. ]


Think they'll do this again next year? [He's never been to such a celebration, and he hopes to whatever deities are watching that he'll be alive to enjoy it again next season.]

(OOC: David really loves dancing and he's a ridiculous goofball. He is probably smiling at everyone with what looks a lot like a lovestruck look.)

Day of Lefkokó C.

[David had fully intended to catch the airship back to the other city, but the trip to Didymos the day before had left his sky legs more than a little wobbly. He had loved and thrilled in the flight but the experience was so new and the air up there so much thinner that he had left the airship feeling woozy and unsteady, the world feeling as if it was still swaying beneath him.

By evening he realizes he let himself get too caught up and the airship has already left for the day, which presents him with a problem. He didn't have any gold, and the inn he had been staying at is nowhere near Didymos. The previous night he had spent listening to stories in one of the taverns and now he searches for a different one to repeat a sleepless night, looking a little more worse for wear and rumpled in his same clothes, his hair sticking up at ends and a cheerful golden retriever following on his heels, his brush tail swaying confidently in the air.

David rubs his numb hands together as the ocean breeze hits them winding through the streets and blows on them for warmth, looking over the signs as they pass them.]


Okay Waffles, looks like we're staying the night. Smell anything good?
warfares: <user name="recadreuse"> (Default)

kylo ren | ota - anyone in or around didymos

[personal profile] warfares 2018-12-25 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
THE SKYWHALE.

( He thinks of his father as he boards the airship. Han Solo had lived for adventure, the thrill of the unknown, and would have been delighted in the prospect of traveling anywhere by air.

Nestled atop his shoulder, Tira chitters nervously; her outward nervousness mirrors his own apprehension. He digs his thumbnail into a tangerine he'd bought before boarding, peeling away the skin and offers the little tamarin a segment of the fruit in an attempt to calm her. )


I'm sure it'll be fine, ( the assurance as much for her sake as for his own.

Once the ship is in the air, he'll pace the deck, peering over the side occasionally to take in the sights. The Reef, in particular, holds his interest for a long time; he knew a little of Logistykon, the youngest of the three brothers, who favored intelligence and reason over might or passion, who had broken from tradition in his choice of ruler, and who now guarded the city from his watery grave. )



DAY OF LEFKOKÓ.

( Thalassa is no longer Thalassa, it seems. While the cheerful opulence of the city remains largely undiminished, there are signs of the damage wrought and then carefully repaired; the Knights of the City the most obvious reflection of these changes, shedding their practical armor for something decidedly more visible.

He rents a room at the Tree Inn, intending to explore the city more thoroughly over the course of the next few days; if he is to find answers, the Overlook Quarter seems as sure a start as any. Failing that, there's always the Underpass.

He hadn't considered the date, however; he'd been too young to truly appreciate the raucousness of Lefkokó's Day or too caught up in his studies to pay the festivities much mind as he grew older. The Ocean Quarter and Mid-City Hall are alive with
music and color; the air heavy with the scents of cooking meat and baking pastries.

Find him:

a. taking part in a high-stakes game of chance in a local tavern,
b. being lured into a dance,
c. sampling some of the food, occasionally passing a candied nut or sweet off to the little golden tamarin that never seems to leave his shoulder. )



WILDCARD.

( feel free to hit me up via pm or at [plurk.com profile] resurrectionist if you'd like to do something not covered above. )