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!]
B - night of the 2nd?
And blue.
She didn't know that the roof had been claimed by someone else. She drew a shaking breath -- a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold -- her fingers tugging absently at the bracelet around her wrist . . . as though she would very much like to yank it off, but didn't quite dare.
The city was quieter now, the streets nearly empty of kedan. It calmed her somewhat . . . gave her time and space to focus. Urgency still made her chest tight -- an ache she couldn't stand. The need to find a way out, any way out, still beat a tattoo of demand in her brain.
This place, so unfamiliar, where even the stars were wrong, where home wasn't even visible in the sky . . . nothing good could come of this place. She needed to find her way out. Force her way out. And soon.
no subject
So the tinkle of metal made Irvine snap awake with a jerk, for a moment somewhere entirely different, in one of the many townships he didn't want to be in because if he was there it meant someone had to die specially. He was wedged between a chimney and some kind of ventilation stack, where the shadows were too deep for him to be seen so long as he kept his fur-lining hidden.
He waited there, breathing slow and carefully through his mouth to avoid the sound. It was late; so late that he couldn't even hear anyone on the street. Someone's shadow moved across the roof and, very carefully, Irvine moved Exeter into position, keeping a flap of his coat over her to hide the shine on her metal chassis.
She seemed ... shiny. Not shiny shiny, but faintly luminescent, and blue. Real people weren't blue, and the locals who were blue weren't glowy blue. One of the Foreigners, maybe, and one who'd landed right in front of him.
She was turned away. Maybe ... Irvine eased himself forward, keeping Exeter at the ready, and touched his forehead to open the link to his GFs' power, then the device on his belt, flicking them until he could touch the symbol that stood for Scan. A whisper of blue and green light encircle himd, for just a moment; he hoped she wouldn't see it with her turned away, and gestured at her to direct the spell. Scan would tell him what kind of a threat she'd be, her defences, resistances and weaknesses to various elements, what kinds of statuses he should expect. Then he'd know how to approach this.
No idea how to classify her by numbers, so we'll go with this.
She twisted towards him at that point, still not seeing him in the shadows. The weariness, the weight in her features in that moment was profound, as though the world pressed a finger to her shoulders, bearing down. Her arms crept up to wrap around herself as tightly as she could manage, as though she could hold herself together with her own effort. With one last glance upward towards the sky, she stepped down from the roof rim, her eyes skimming over the roof in search of a place to settle.
They rested where the shadows were deepest . . . between a chimney and some kind of ventilation stack. One foot in front of another, she she came to him . . . came without knowing, closer and closer.
np, that's what i was figuring :3
Or even just some more preparation. And Irvine would have gone with that, let her go and come at her later now he knew more, except that she was heading toward him, with that horribly human expression on her face. It was awfully ironic that her weakest point was in her back, too. Irvine took issue with that, primarily because he had an issue with that.
He was still junctioned and he had Magic on standby. Quick as beat Irvine touched his forehead, touched the junction-box, and the blue and green glow shone on the walls around him as he channelled Thundaga straight at her. A blast of light and a lightning-bolt half-a-foot thick lit the night.
no subject
Far too late.
She shrieked as the lightning arched into her, through her, tossing her through the air like a paper doll, slamming her frame into the stone of the roof rim with enough force that the stone itself cracked in the mortar, chunks of it crumbling to the ground below. The note was wild, coming to an abrupt end only as her body made impact, snapping off the breath her lungs.
She slipped away from the wall, landing on hands and knees, her impact mark plain against the brick. She slumped, her limbs quivering, trembling as though at any moment they might give out. Her mind reeled, spun, fought to catch up to the fact of the attack.
Kill. Someone had just tried to kill her.
Her shoulders sagged. She gasped once, softly, halfway between a whisper and a sob.
And then Irvine would be able to feel it . . . water shuddering, groaning through the pipes of the building below, the metal clanging against stone as the pressure built higher. Higher -- too fast to be even remotely natural.
Water blasted up the chimney as the pipes burst apart below, arched from the windows as it shattered through the glass. Enormous, watery hands descended on Irvine's position, smashing downward in a tidal wave of fury.
no subject
That was when the building shook and Irvine staggered, caught himself, jerked Exeter up again. His shot went wide as the hands came down. They slammed him into the roof and the blow made him gasp; water sucked into his lungs and he panicked for that second before his defensive junctions kicked in to turn the water into something breathable. He forced himself to exhale the water instead of air, and twisted as the wave tried to drag him off the roof's edge.
His boots hit the ledge and he twisted again to get on his knees, spitting water out and dripping from everything as he jerked Exeter up and fired at the water-girl.
no subject
He would only have a breath to realize this before the water struck again -- this time seeking to smash him downward, crush him like an insect under its weight with a roar that shuddered through the rooftop.
Even if it missed, it was likely to shatter the roof beneath him.
no subject
"Crap," he breathed. It was a store building, but he really hoped it wasn't one of the ones with a studio flat on top, because whoever was under that had probably just got crushed.
And, Irvine realised, he'd lost his hat. Crap again.
It was dumb and he should have dropped to the street, but that was his hat so instead he dropped Exeter so it fell across his back, dug his boot into the wall and vaulted back up onto the edge. It was riddled with cracks, but he spotted his hat near the top of the debris and skidding down to snatch it up, leaping up the other side of the fallen roof. His head moved as he scanned the sky for the girl.
no subject
His attention was on the sky, but perhaps he should have been looking below . . . Filaments of water seeped from the wreckage of the roof -- then suddenly shot upward, braiding themselves in the air into chains to snake around all four of Irvine's limbs . . . and his neck as well. If they caught, they would hold just as effectively as metal.
A dozen more waited to spring even if the first few missed -- and Irvine might find that if they did miss, they would cut as effectively as metal too, whether that was flesh or stone.
no subject
He was outmatched. Badly outmatched, and his heart pounded with it. When he'd been a lone sniper he'd never have found himself in this situation. It wasn't his job.
One of the tendrils wrapped around his ankle and yanked him down, and even as he fell Irvine was already summoning Carbuncle. Green light flared around him before he hit the ground, and Carbuncle leapt out of the hole in the cracked roof. Its jewel flashed and a green shield flowed around him. The other tendrils struck it and rebounded off to wherever the girl was hiding. Irvine hit the ground and it took all his breath away, but he didn't try to breathe when he couldn't. He just levelled Exeter at the tendril around his ankle and fired a foot lower to make it dissolve.
He couldn't win this one. Time to run.