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wilderlogs2018-03-07 06:14 pm
wildermods) wrote in wilderlogs2018-03-07 06:14 pm
THE SQUAD DOES AN INTRO - [modplot] [event]
THE SQUAD DOES AN INTRO
In their homeworlds, they suddenly hear water flowing over stone, the wind through the leaves, and the gentle rattling of Kodama. The hushed sound of treetops waving in the breeze lull them to sleep whether they want it to or not, and in what seems like a dream they fall through a tunnel that passes through layers of dirt and roots and then through seemingly endless boughs of trees.
During this impossibly long fall, spirits whisper in their ears. They tell them that they must save the Wilderlands and the Green. They tell them that they will be given the power or weapons to do it - or that they're already strong enough as they are. They tell them that in the times they're not needed, they may find themselves trapped in the faerie realm known as the Brugh, but that the mirrors will let them speak, and the mirrors will let them see.
And they tell them that they're about to become lost in the forest and that there are others like them, just as lost.
When they wake up, they find themselves in the ruins of an abandoned city; the forest has overtaken it, threading new life through the decay, but the green of the leaves and vines pales in contrast with the broken buildings and streets. Every single building in this city was once a vibrant shade of emerald, and even now, after the slow ravages of time, the green ruins glimmer like they're hewn from precious gems.
The only things that aren't that bright shade of emerald are the statues. Countless statues are scattered through the abandoned city, shaped like men and women and children and pets, all dressed in 1900s era Earth-style finery. These figures are extremely intricate, almost too detailed to be believably carved by a human hand. Many of them are smashed and broken.
Some of the statues don't look human. Among the humans are little beings shaped like china dolls that are made of stone like the rest, instead of porcelain. And in the middle of the city, standing near each other are three strange petrified figures: an axe-wielding man that looks like he was made of metal before being petrified, a man who looks like a human-lion hybrid, and a living scarecrow. All three have expressions of surprise or anger on their faces.
When the characters are brought into this place, the magic that brought them in seems to have trouble getting them all in the same place at first. They find themselves spending brief amounts of time in one spot (sometimes just minutes, sometimes longer) before they're teleported again. Each time they teleport they find themselves near someone new, someone just as lost as them. Those that don't speak the same language may find some difficulties communicating, but over time, the magic of the Wilderlands will kick in, and plant a whole new language in their heads. This magic works faster the more they emotionally connect with other and find understanding without words.
The teleportation keeps zapping them in different places all over the city -- and sometimes outside it, where they can see an abandoned road made of yellow brick that trails off into the distance. Fortunately, the people they keep getting paired off with seem like normal people just like them, and beyond that, they're entirely alone in the ruins.
Probably.
✦ Post in actionspam format. Plots and mod-run events in the game are meant to be in actionspam format to keep a brisk pace.
✦ Please see the OOC post linked up top for more information about the event.
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Don't that belong is a museum or something? Excalibur? I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be toting it around like a lunchbox or a-a- a whatever.
[But for a moment she's looking at him like he's an idiot, so he tries to turn his brain up to its maximum capacity and provide some kind of decent answer to her original question. From what he knows about where he was (leaving Missouri) and what they're looking at (Wizard of Oz kitsch) he's pretty sure he's halfway to an answer for this chick who's looking not nearly shaken and helpless enough for his comfort.]
I'm not magic, obviously. I'm pretty sure we're just in Kansas.
[Nailed it.]
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No. It is the Blade of Promised Victory and wielded by the rightful King of England. The only place it belongs is with me.
[ Arturia is starting to suspect that this guy is an idiot. He seems a bit slow on the uptake, doesn't seem to get magic or that they've been whisked off to some land she's sure isn't Kansas. ]
I don't know where we are exactly, but I'm quite confident that it's not Kansas.
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[He makes that sound out his nose again; it's halfway between a bark of laughter and a cough. She's not wrong about either the location or about the general intelligence level of the guy she ran into.]
Where the hell else would it be? The furthest it could be is Colorado.
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[ Arturia speaks the words with a conviction and confidence that's probably a little scary. ]
Because I was just in Fuyuki City, Kumamoto prefecture. In Japan.
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[Those words are a total spaceholder to look less like he's completely flustered. Okay look, Dixon understood like 40% of that as words and 10% as actual content. He's pretty sure by the absolute sincerity and certainty of her statement that he's supposed to say something.]
What the hell were you doing in Japan? I was on the four thirty-five.
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[ Where ever 'here' is. Still, she's handling this much better than this Dixon guy. ]
Please believe me. This isn't Kansas.
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Fine. Then where is it, smartass? Since you know everything.
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[ The look that this dainty practically teenaged girl gives Dixon could curdle milk. The disapproval and contempt rolls off of her in palpable waves. ]
We are not on the plane of human existence. Perhaps Avalon? I can't be sure.
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[He looks around, seeming not just confused but actually unsettled for the first time. He reaches a hand up and picks at some of the flakey skin around the nasty burn on the side of his face, then stops himself.]
The hell are you talking about, planes of existence...? [He sounds more uneasy with each word.]
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You could have tried.
[ Her voice is cold and sharp. She's not one for posturing but this man needs to know she's not going to knuckle under like he seems to expect. ]
The world in which humans live is only one level of existence. There are others.
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What, like Heaven? [Did he have a fucking stroke or something? Heart attack at 42? Is he dead?]
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[ Her answer is so... cold. It's matter-of-fact and perfunctory, no hint of a waver or hesitation in her voice. ]
Like Avalon.
[ That explains everything, clearly. ]
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You already said that. You want to find that on a map, sweetheart?
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[ Arturia shakes her head. ]
It's beneath it. Or parallel to it. Whatever terms you wish to use, it is outside of what you might call the modern era of Earth.
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[Dixon tries to loosen the leather strap on his arm, cutting off his circulation from the weight of the shield. Purpling hand included, he looks like a hot mess. His face and neck is clearly still healing from an ugly burn across half of it, and he's got black eyes, scrapes and a puffy lip from getting kicked in the head a few times. It's in stark contrast to Arturia's poise, and somehow that pisses him off even more.]
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[ Arturia blinks, glancing down at the shield on Dixon's arm, then looking over the rest of him. The guy is in bad shape, honestly. Still, letting his arm lose circulation is probably a bad idea. She reaches towards the straps, meaning to help him loosen them or remove the shield. ]
Let me help you with that.
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I'm doing fine. [He's certainly not.] I woke up strapped to this thing. Some kind of prank or something.
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[ Time travel is not even the weirdest thing that Arturia has to consider in her life, considering the things she normally gets up to. ]
Your arm is turning purple. Let me help with the strap.
[ She reaches forward and starts undoing the strap without waiting for permission. If he's going to be stubborn about it, then she's just going to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. ]
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[He doesn't stop her undoing the strap, because there's pride and then there's just admitting he isn't left-handed. Once the shield's off he flexes and closes his hand a few times.]
Thanks, [he says in a bit of a mumble.]
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[ There's no point in being angry at this guy. He's clearly out of his depth with all this magic and what not. ]
You're welcome. Is your hand alright?
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[He figures he should probably ask her how she's doing too, but how do you really do that in a situation this bizarre?]
Is that, uh, is that sword heavy?
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[ Arturia rolls her shoulder forward and back, then glances at her sword. ]
... Not particularly. It's well balanced.
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[As you do.]
...That's good. Do you, uh, do you have a name?
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That sounds unfortunate. I'm glad you're not more badly injured.
[ She inclines her head in a slight nod. ]
I am Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights, the Once and Future King of Britain.
[ She speaks with a remarkable conviction, her whole presence seeming to grow as she names herself. ]
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[She rattles off a title that's so grand it makes his head spin a little - but even someone dense as he is can see that there's a well of pride and power that she's drawing from. He doesn't know if he's ever heard someone state their name with some grand confidence.]
I hope you don't expect people to remember that whole thing. Seems kind of presumptive.
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