Irvine Kinneas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reconjunction) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2015-08-01 05:41 pm
reconjunction) wrote in tushanshu_logs2015-08-01 05:41 pm
You fight me / flat on my lonely face I fell
Characters: Irvine and you.
Date: 1-5 August 2015 (2016 in-game)
Location: All over the city
Situation: This situation looks awfully familiar, and Irvine is convinced that this is all a trick/imprisonment by his canon’s big bad. The solution? Find the ‘people’ that don’t fit the setting and kill them to unlock the exit.
Warnings/Rating: Almost certainly violence.
A: He who fights and runs away … [1ST OF AUGUST ONLY]
The buildings and street faded up from white blankness like a staticky connection – at first in black and white, then in colour, then with sound. It wasn't the place he meant to be. Nowhere near. What was this? They beat the sorceress, why was he walking out of that damned whitespace and into some city he’d never seen before?
Irvine’s heart pounded as he scanned the area, walking long-legged down the street with his coat flapping behind him and his hat shading his face from the sun. Most of the people on the street were humanoid, but some of them have … things, scales and wings and horns. Monsters? Some new junction? Was this the sorceress’s endgame in case she lost, just shoving them into some space filled with monsters crossed with people, as if that would stop them from fighting back?
Damn. In Irvine’s case, she was probably right.
One of them came at him and Irvine’s shotgun jerked up, and they backed away instead. But it drew attention; some of the others started eyeing him, and Irvine decided that discretion is the better part of valour. Even if they were all just constructs, like the fake sorceresses right as the time-compression began, the last thing he needed was to turn the whole setting against him.
And he didn’t even know where the others were, either. Whether they were following. He hoped they made it out. He’d call, but what if there was something else nearby, something that couldn’t see him in among the constructs, and he called attention to himself?
Dangerous. It was all dangerous. So Irvine didn’t yell, and stuck to walking by the sides of buildings, watching and looking for portals. It took about two hours before he realised why he felt so weird — because he didn’t have access to his junctions, just like in the castle. It had taken one of the others pointing it out before he noticed then, too. He wasn’t used to having junctions on the whole day, every day. He wasn’t used to feeling weird about not feeling them.
That definitely meant he couldn’t shout for the others. He had no way to defend himself, except Exeter, and Exeter was a wonderfully advanced gun but she wasn’t made of magic.
So he walked on, not drawing attention—or trying not to, anyway—avoiding anyone who spoke to him, to the point of running if necessary.
[ooc: Irvine will retreat from any prolonged interaction, but feel free to chase him! I would like for him to escape no matter what, before he finds out too many details about Keeliai, for continuity purposes.]
B: … lives to fight another day.
Finding a place to sleep wasn’t too difficult, for Irvine. He made use of the heights, because not many people had a tendency to look up. For all that it was easier to fight on the ground, alongside comrades, he’d always felt safer when he was higher than everyone else. It still wasn’t ideal and he woke up fitfully every couple of hours, but that was good. He didn’t have comrades here. That was fine. He was used to that. Used to waking up every two hours like clockwork, waking up in an instant at the most threatening sound.
It sucked, that kind of schedule, and he hadn’t missed it. But it worked and gave him time to put together the details, and not go nuts from exhaustion along the way. It kept him safe enough until his junctions came back, which was frankly a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise. Wasn't going to stop him from using them. If he couldn't use his junctions, he was screwed no matter what.
He still didn’t know a couple of things. Didn’t know where the exits were. Didn’t know whether the local were real and transplanted, junctioned, fake. Didn’t know whether this was a city from the past – maybe Centran – or a city from the future he hadn’t experienced. Didn’t know whether he’d meet the sorceress herself here, from some point in her timeline before they killed her.
But Irvine knew about the Foreigners. They were the ones that didn’t fit, the ones with powers, like the seal guardians in the sorceress’s castle who kept the GFs and all their bestowed powers contained until they were dead.
It was pretty obvious, after that. Killing the seal guardians had released the GFs’ powers, one by one. The so-called Foreigners didn’t fit, so they were the ones that were real and keeping this whole place together, whether leftover time-compression or something else. Prison, maybe. Maybe the others were all locked up in whitespace and relying on Irvine to get them out, and this was the final gateway.
Irvine couldn’t let them down. He wasn’t very good at a lot of things, but he wasn’t going to let his comrades down. So he watched. Tracked. Waited. When timing was right, he struck.
[ooc: Skulduggery’s thread in (B) will come, date-wise, before any others, but feel free to tag in whenever. I’d prefer Irvine didn’t die, which is fine because he’ll run away if he’s overpowered, but he’s definitely aiming to kill others, so lemme know if you’re prefer that didn’t happen and we can arrange for some method of escape on the part of either him or your character as needed!]
Date: 1-5 August 2015 (2016 in-game)
Location: All over the city
Situation: This situation looks awfully familiar, and Irvine is convinced that this is all a trick/imprisonment by his canon’s big bad. The solution? Find the ‘people’ that don’t fit the setting and kill them to unlock the exit.
Warnings/Rating: Almost certainly violence.
A: He who fights and runs away … [1ST OF AUGUST ONLY]
The buildings and street faded up from white blankness like a staticky connection – at first in black and white, then in colour, then with sound. It wasn't the place he meant to be. Nowhere near. What was this? They beat the sorceress, why was he walking out of that damned whitespace and into some city he’d never seen before?
Irvine’s heart pounded as he scanned the area, walking long-legged down the street with his coat flapping behind him and his hat shading his face from the sun. Most of the people on the street were humanoid, but some of them have … things, scales and wings and horns. Monsters? Some new junction? Was this the sorceress’s endgame in case she lost, just shoving them into some space filled with monsters crossed with people, as if that would stop them from fighting back?
Damn. In Irvine’s case, she was probably right.
One of them came at him and Irvine’s shotgun jerked up, and they backed away instead. But it drew attention; some of the others started eyeing him, and Irvine decided that discretion is the better part of valour. Even if they were all just constructs, like the fake sorceresses right as the time-compression began, the last thing he needed was to turn the whole setting against him.
And he didn’t even know where the others were, either. Whether they were following. He hoped they made it out. He’d call, but what if there was something else nearby, something that couldn’t see him in among the constructs, and he called attention to himself?
Dangerous. It was all dangerous. So Irvine didn’t yell, and stuck to walking by the sides of buildings, watching and looking for portals. It took about two hours before he realised why he felt so weird — because he didn’t have access to his junctions, just like in the castle. It had taken one of the others pointing it out before he noticed then, too. He wasn’t used to having junctions on the whole day, every day. He wasn’t used to feeling weird about not feeling them.
That definitely meant he couldn’t shout for the others. He had no way to defend himself, except Exeter, and Exeter was a wonderfully advanced gun but she wasn’t made of magic.
So he walked on, not drawing attention—or trying not to, anyway—avoiding anyone who spoke to him, to the point of running if necessary.
[ooc: Irvine will retreat from any prolonged interaction, but feel free to chase him! I would like for him to escape no matter what, before he finds out too many details about Keeliai, for continuity purposes.]
B: … lives to fight another day.
Finding a place to sleep wasn’t too difficult, for Irvine. He made use of the heights, because not many people had a tendency to look up. For all that it was easier to fight on the ground, alongside comrades, he’d always felt safer when he was higher than everyone else. It still wasn’t ideal and he woke up fitfully every couple of hours, but that was good. He didn’t have comrades here. That was fine. He was used to that. Used to waking up every two hours like clockwork, waking up in an instant at the most threatening sound.
It sucked, that kind of schedule, and he hadn’t missed it. But it worked and gave him time to put together the details, and not go nuts from exhaustion along the way. It kept him safe enough until his junctions came back, which was frankly a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise. Wasn't going to stop him from using them. If he couldn't use his junctions, he was screwed no matter what.
He still didn’t know a couple of things. Didn’t know where the exits were. Didn’t know whether the local were real and transplanted, junctioned, fake. Didn’t know whether this was a city from the past – maybe Centran – or a city from the future he hadn’t experienced. Didn’t know whether he’d meet the sorceress herself here, from some point in her timeline before they killed her.
But Irvine knew about the Foreigners. They were the ones that didn’t fit, the ones with powers, like the seal guardians in the sorceress’s castle who kept the GFs and all their bestowed powers contained until they were dead.
It was pretty obvious, after that. Killing the seal guardians had released the GFs’ powers, one by one. The so-called Foreigners didn’t fit, so they were the ones that were real and keeping this whole place together, whether leftover time-compression or something else. Prison, maybe. Maybe the others were all locked up in whitespace and relying on Irvine to get them out, and this was the final gateway.
Irvine couldn’t let them down. He wasn’t very good at a lot of things, but he wasn’t going to let his comrades down. So he watched. Tracked. Waited. When timing was right, he struck.
[ooc: Skulduggery’s thread in (B) will come, date-wise, before any others, but feel free to tag in whenever. I’d prefer Irvine didn’t die, which is fine because he’ll run away if he’s overpowered, but he’s definitely aiming to kill others, so lemme know if you’re prefer that didn’t happen and we can arrange for some method of escape on the part of either him or your character as needed!]
A
Heads still turned at her passing, as they often did. She was not, in this respect, a subtle woman. The youth would note her following if he was half as paranoid as he seemed, and so China lengthened her stride to catch up, aimed to match his pace as she drew closer and he eased out of the crowd of the main street. "My dear," she said lightly, when she was within earshot, "that's no way to make friends in a new city."
no subject
When she spoke he looked up--and flinched.
She was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
She looked like Matron. Same fine Estharian features, same long dark hair. If it weren't for that he would have ogled, would have stared, doffed his hat, bowed in respect like he would have for Matron. He didn't have his junctions. He didn't have a defence against mind-magic.
Except that she looked like Matron.
"I'm, uh--" His throat had closed up. "I'm not good at makin' friends."
Gotta go. Gotta go right now. The sorceress didn't actually look like Matron, she had silver hair and Dolletian features, she didn't look like Matron. But there was no way that anyone who looked like Matron could be anything but a taunt. If he'd doubted this was anything other than a construct--
Go. Now. Go. Irvine ducked his head and pulled away, and hurried down the street, hoping to lose himself in the crowd.
no subject
This one flinched. Looked, perhaps, like he'd seen a ghost. China would have loved to know what her magic did to him, especially as it seemed to make him think leaving was the better option.
She headed after him with somewhat hurried grace, heels clicking. "Certainly not with that attitude," she said after him, keeping her voice amused. Perhaps he'd catch it, perhaps he wouldn't; slightly more pertinent right now was keeping track of him. She didn't want someone unbalanced loose in Keeliai without some supervision.
no subject
"Certainly not with that attitude."
She even sounded like Matron. More amused than admonishing, but still light and not quite taking something as seriously as Irvine felt it should be taken, like Irvine was once again five-years-old and whining about something, and not understanding why things weren't happening the way he wanted them.
Irvine broke into a run, bumping into members of the crowd and squeezing through with automatic muttered apologies, trying to put distance and people between them.
no subject
But she wasn't going to catch him now-- there were too many people, too many heads turned toward her, craving her attention. The strange Foreigner had put space between them, and China's only alternative would have been to toss the crowds aside, and, incidents with the mugging-that-wasn't aside, she did try to avoid combat magic in public. It would have unfortunate repercussions.
So in a few seconds more she slowed, stopped. Tracked him till he vanished in the crowd, noting the hat, the height, the weapon. She'd have what informants she had keep an eye out for him, and work from there. The tiniest of frowns marred her face as she resumed her day.