THE SQUAD'S SPA RETREAT ON WEATHERTOP [log post] [free-for-all] [modplot]

[wildermods]

THE SQUAD'S SPA RETREAT ON WEATHERTOP
OOC POST
The hills the squad travel through make an undulating ridge, often rising almost to a thousand feet, and here and there there are low clefts or passes leading into the land beyond. In the low-lying areas there are the ruins of walls and other buildings, and on some of the hills lie the ruins of different forts and watchtowers.

The highest hill in the area is Weathertop and this is where the squad will make camp on the fifth night of travel. This hill will provide them refuge but no refuge can truly keep them safe. As the crows said, they are the ones that were Chosen by the Green and the darker forces of this world have already found out about their existence.

However, the night starts normally. They make camp and set up watch and the hours pass without much reason for worry. A waxing moon rises into the sky, casting a gentle glow on the world. There is a light chill but nothing insurmountable due to their campfires. All is calm and peaceful.

That's why what happens next probably seems strange at first. Even those who aren't on watch may find themselves suddenly jerking out of sleep due to strange feelings of dread seemingly coming from nowhere. Those with holy magics, blessed weapons, or banked holy spells will find themselves feeling some kind of evil approaching. Those with cursed weapons or unholy powers will feel a sick sort of welcoming feeling, like something dark is approaching, yes - but that they should be glad.

Then the feeling of dread reaches them all, regardless of powers or weapons, clutching at every heart. Even those normally immune to fear may find themselves feeling the cold reaching its way inside them with prying fingers.

That's when the calm, misty night is shredded by the first screech, something inhuman, half-animalistic, half metal scraping over concrete. Another screech answers it from a different side of the hill, like the sources of the screeches are pack hunting and slowly closing in. More cold rolls in and the feeling of despair deepens as the sky starts to blot out with floating shadow shapes. The dementors aren't the source of the screeches but they're being spurred on by them, as if the unearthly shrills are calling out orders of some kind. The cold that sets in makes those that can feel cold feel as if they'll never be warm again.

But that isn't the worst of it. There are loud pops as living human figures pop in around the hilltop and its various trails downward. The ceramic and metal masks of dark wizards glint in the moonlight and spells start sparking from their wands as they start firing at the group - and at the dementors and approaching Nazgul. Cackles and sadistic laughter fill the air. Their leader is a woman with a cackle that sounds more mad and more sadistic than the others.

As the first of the cloaked Nazgul approaches from beyond the ring of stones, practically exuding darkness, one of the Death Eaters steps forward. She is shaking and though she pretends it's all rage and the thrill of potentially killing, at least some of it is fear. Even the Death Eaters can feel the chill from the Nazgul and dementors. Lestrange tries to cover that up with her usual sadistic glee.

"Naughty naughty, trying to steal my mistress' prisoners out from under her nose," she crows, flinging curses. "They're not your toys to play with and we'll send you back to your pathetic formless master with your tails between your legs. You may not be able to die for good but we'll make you wish you have!"

She cackles with shrill laughter and the fight begins in earnest. The Nazgul and dementors descend on the group and the Death Eaters do as well - and both sides attack each other, too, not caring who's in the middle. In the space of minutes, the Squad is in the middle of a deadly battleground.

Fortunately, the hill isn't the worst place to make a stand with its ruins providing cover and good vantage points and there are woods to escape to in the lands below if they make a run for it. Maybe, if they're very, very lucky, they might survive the night.

But their odds aren't great. The Death Eaters are a sadistic force to be reckoned with, and the dementors are no less horrifying for having changed sides to work with Sauron. If anything, they're even worse now, and their orders are that only a few need to be captured for Sauron and the Nazgul - the rest can be killed or have their souls sucked.

And many have fallen at the hands of the Nazgul and all flee before their faces - save the one who desires to have the Nine deliver the Squad into his hands, where they can be broken in the deep dungeons of Barad-dûr, where no light has ever touched.

---

NOTES
✦ Post in actionspam format. Plots and mod-run events in the game are meant to be in actionspam format to keep a brisk pace.

✦ Free-for-all Post. This event will be in "free-for-all" format, meaning that threadhopping is encouraged and that threading should be treated in the same conversational way as network posts.

✦ NPCing. Players can feel free to godmode the Nazgul and dementors in their own threads, as these npcs don't talk, and have very little personality beyond being pure evil. Please just make them realistically difficult to drive back as they're very powerful, unkillable enemies. However, the mods will npc the Death Eaters since they're intelligent speaking people. A thread will be available in the OOC post where players can link to their threads to request a Death Eater npc to participate.

✦ Fairy Swaps. Now that the fairy swap mechanism will be in place, players can make their quest characters and Brugh characters magically swap places whenever they want, including during the event itself.

✦ When it Takes Place: ICly this is 5 days into the Squad's journey through the hills.

Comments

Jason Dixon | Open & Closed Prompts

[awfulcer]

I. Open

[Dixon’s finally sleeping when the dread starts to creep in. It’s like his body has at last decided, after five punishing, brutal days, to give out and surrender to darkness. He hasn’t even been carrying his fair share of supplies (on account of, halfway through day one and eight miles in, puking into a bush and nearly passing out), but the hike alone has beaten him down. He’s spent whatever time he hasn’t been staggering around, desperately and gamely trying to keep up with the group, lying face-up on the ground, shivering from exhaustion, aching, patches of sweat-salt down his temples, stabbing pain in his back and shins and soreness everywhere else, still craving a single fucking cigarette and unable to keep his eyes closed.

But tonight he was finally asleep. When the others were starting the fire and he keeled onto the ground in the makeshift camp he just passed out, and the others kindly didn’t wake him. He was at peace and in sweet oblivion and worrying about nothing.

That happy respite is obliterated entirely as the sense of dread drags him back to consciousness. He’s almost on his feet before he even realizes he’s awake, scrambling for his shield. When he feels it, he can tell there’s a fight coming. The shield’s magic is just beneath the surface, sensing danger. The power is like fish circling beneath a sheen of ice on a lake.

Even without that warning, the fight soon announces itself, between the shrieking of Nazgul and the cackling racket of the Death Eaters. Before there’s a chance for him to get his bearings, the camp seems ripped into chaos, a melee between wizards and wraiths and soul suckers that seems to take place both between and above the squad woken from their camp.

He moves quickly, but it isn’t to save his own skin. He’s kind of ambivalent about his own safety. He rushes to the nearest member of the squad, of his unit, really, to defend them.]

Leave the shit! Get to the woods!

[He continues to stay in the fray well past when it would be advisable to leave, steadily more inebriated on the magic of his shield, looking for the people in the squad locked into the chaos.]

II. Alacruun

[Dixon can now lay claim to having punched the Grim Reaper in the face.

Granted, that’s not exactly what happened, nor are Nazgul actually the Grim Reaper, but they look close enough and given that the one Dixon just squared off with didn’t respond worth shit to the magic shield, so he just clocked it right in its creepy nose. It bought him enough time to scramble back to the temporary reprieve in the shadow of some ruins, where he doesn’t greet but does meet eyes with the weird fucking dragon who was hanging out on the temple steps. He doubles over, catching his breath, legs shaking. Adrenalin can only combat the complete exhaustion of the last five days so much. He’s grateful for the moment to gather his constitution.

Up until some creep with a magic wand comes looking to fucking party, turning the corner right towards them.]

I’ll take care of this, [Dixon spits at Alacruun as he whirls around, with the same tone of voice as if he were about to stomp on a spider in the kitchen or something.]

III. Ronan and later Kal

[Midway through the fight, Dixon’s still looking for members of the group in the fray, trying his best not to keel over or get killed as he shoves his way past Death Eaters and dodges Dementors and Nazguls, fully and painfully aware that at least a few of the teenagers are here in harm’s way. Possibly dead already. Possibly worse, from what he’s seen. That’s about when he runs across Ronan, throwing magic around as if it’s no big thing at Dementors.

He stops. It’s not as if he likes Ronan - at all - but he’s part of the group too. If there’s anything Dixon can lay claim to, it’s the feeling of belonging that comes from being part of a group. There’s a sense of purpose that comes with that, of cohesion and importance and of being needed. Ronan’s part of his unit as much as anyone else, whatever his personal feelings, however much his nose still runs with blood every few hours where it stubbornly refuses to heal.]

You got this? [he yells over the din, watching Ronan dispatch spells.]


IV. Sothe

[He’s bleeding badly from his back, but he doesn’t notice except in between the bursts of invulnerability from the shield. The magic gives him and the weapon a sort of pearly incandescence, but more importantly than that, it removes both pain and vulnerability. Death Eater spells bounce off him, and the Black Breath of the Nazguls doesn’t take nearly as much hold. He’s figured out by now that Nazgul and Dementors both are relatively immune to his shield, but once he has the magic activated he can somewhat mow through the more human evil wizards.

Fuck these guys. Dixon feels a rush of relief and pleasure to be able to get in there and fuck them up.

The flip side is he’s started to get less and less in control of his faculties, and for once he doesn’t want to be blind-drunk. His combat against the Death Eaters gets less precise and elegant, instead turning into a kind of desperate brawl where he flings himself at enemies and throws punches as much as he slices with the razor-sharp shield. He starts making his way towards the woods, figuring most people are in the clear by now. He needs to get safe before his magic wears off and he’s just an exhausted drunk on the verge of collapsing stumbling around the hilltop.

That’s around when he sees that one teenager, one of the ones he hasn’t talked to much and whose name he doesn’t remember, approaching a Nazgul with a blade.]

Just leave it, kid, run!

[coiledscales]

[ Alacruun looks a little disgruntled. Probably because in order to conserve space he's been hanging around in his humanoid form. Oh, and there's this whole "under attack" thing. Two-thirds of which are creatures he can't seem to hurt because his necromancy isn't strong enough to bend them to his will.

Fantastic.

And he's found himself alongside Dixon. He frowns at the human and then glances at the... wizard? He has a wand, must be a wizard, about to head toward them.

Better Dixon than him, he supposes. ]

Please, carry on. Don't let me stop you.

Re: Jason Dixon | Open &

[greyerrant]

It's time to fight, not to run.

[ Loken grasps a burning brand from the fire, his only weapon. ]

But perhaps the others should. You ready for this?

I

[unsealthecatbox]

[No need to tell her twice! Ange doesn't even nod before running, intending to get to safety.

Some time later, when she notices Dixon hasn't gotten to safety and continues to be in middle of the fight even when it's time for everyone to retreat, she shakes her head, impulsively running back and trying to call for him from the safest place she can find near him]

What are you doing?! We all have to get away now!

[Anyone that's left is likely to be able to fight back, sticking around will only hurt Dixon, she's sure of it. When the enemies have advantage in numbers or power, you have to flee if you have the chance. Fighting them head-on will only get you killed]

[followingdawn]

[ This is not his kind of fight.

Complaining about it isn't going to get him out of it, though, so Sothe does what he knows best: he shuts up and makes do. The knife he found on his arrival here, at least, is a bit more fitting for how he works best; after he somehow managed to lose one enemy that was looking straight at him, he looked down, and found couldn't see himself.

Definitely not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So he's made the most of it, dropping out of sight to get away whenever he finds himself in the line of fire, but if they stay on the defensive this could go on forever, so when he spots one of the cloaked figures with its back turns, he starts moving forward silently, fading into the shadows so well nothing seems likely to spot him.

At least, until he drops the illusion as he's moving in to strike, and hears someone yelling. Too late for that, though, he's too close not to follow through -

The Ringwraith doesn't even flinch when Sothe slams the dagger into its back. It just turns, one gaunt hand snaking forward to grab his wrist.

Oh. Crap. ]

III

[somnioergosum]

[Figuring out how to use this new power-- fine, magic, was hard. Maintaining it was only slightly less difficult. Ronan had to keep his eyes fixed on his patronus. In the form of a night horror from one of his dreams, some twisted leathery creature with two beaks, wings, and the vague shape of a man, it leaped after the Dementors. They scattered but it pursued, chasing them away before it got too close to anyone.

It was fucking amazing, seeing one of the creatures that tried to kill him now kicking the ass of someone else. There was a tight smile on his face in spite of the effort the spell demanded.

When he heard Dixon, he glanced at him instinctively. The memory of their fight flashed through his mind and Ronan scrambled to turn his focus back to the first time he'd kissed his boyfriend.]

I don't need your help.

1

[wherenoonegoes]

Not yet!

[Hiccup brings Toothless to a hover near Dixon, and the dragon scatters a flock of dementors with a blast of fire.

It's not bravado that makes Hiccup avoid calling for an immediate retreat. He's never been one to care about glory in combat. He's earned it more than once, but his priorities have always been keeping his people alive. Glory had never been anywhere in his thoughts. What's keep him from retreat is simple logic.]

The wizards can teleport and those spirits can fly. If we all run for it now, they'll catch us. We need to thin their numbers first before we'll have any chance of getting out of here.

I

[invisibleheir]

I believe that I can handle this.

[ Arturia's voice is grim but her eyes light up as she draws Excalibur, something dangerous and eager and unrestrained glinting there as she faces down the oncoming Nazgul. The sword almost seems to glow along with her and the air sparks with some sort of magical charge, popping like static electricity. One of the Nazgul has picked her out now, moving towards her with its Morgul blade raised. Seemingly ignoring the melee that has begun to swirl around them, Arturia slides one foot forward and raises her sword. ]

I will not abandon the field to so vile an enemy.

[ Then she lunges forward, her blade crossing the wraith's and they descend into a vicious melee, moving with a fluid and precise speed that speaks to each combatant's expertise. The clash of steel on steel as each parries, counter-attacks and circles for an opening--and Arturia is almost wild-eyed, almost laughing with the joy of battle.

You better do something, Dixon. ]

[shieldedson]

[A blossoming beam of light enters Dixon's view, occasionally gleaming over fallen stones, broken walls, and through still-standing archways as it makes its way towards the creatures he's fighting at the moment, before it expands, reaching past an outward-lying Dementor that soon retreats beyond the light's reach.

This would probably rest a lot easier on Dixon's mind if the light wasn't so obviously emanating from a kid at the center of the bright glow, doing his best to concentrate- presumably on the light- as he slowly approaches.]

Hey! Mister! You okay?

I

[astrarche]

[Sariatu would not be caught dead leaving a fight before Dixon, but not just because he's so desperately unprepared for a fight that it would be shameful.

He sat with her when she broke beyond repair. So she's been keeping an eye on his pitiful progress to make sure he doesn't break beyond repair. He's cracked, surely, and cracking harder, but there's a point of no return she hasn't seen him reach yet -

She might see it soon.]

No you get to the woods, idiot!

[There's something about the Nazgul that she recognizes. Something about their ageless, undying, cold devotion that resonates with a part of her soul she'll never stop trying to leave behind.

The familiarity makes them easier to stand against. Not easy, but - possible. For a while.

The Dementors, on the other hand -]

You're half-dead on your feet!

Shuichi Saihara | OPEN + CLOSED PROMPTS

[shyhara]

a. OPEN

[It had seemed like a good choice of route for such a long while, too. Sure, days of walking through such hilly terrain wasn't exactly easy, but they'd gone five days without encountering any trouble. Given all the warnings they'd been given about the different paths, those quiet days of walking had been encouraging.

But of course, that fifth night had to turn everything to shit.

Right before all hell breaks loose, he's seated close to their campfire for the night, a small distance away from the bulk of the group as is his tendency when he doesn't have a Kaede or a Kaito around to drag him into being more social. The wave of dread that hits suddenly seems so irrational without any immediately obvious causes, but he can't shake the chill running down his spine or the sense that something awful is coming.

Which is about when he notices the sword he's been carrying around since waking up with it here. He's been keeping the thing tied to his belt with the most durable scrap of fabric he could find at the temple and otherwise generally ignoring it, but in the heavy shadows of the night and flickering firelight, it's hard not to see the white light just barely escaping from the crack between the hilt and sheath. Frowning, he tugs the katana out of the sheath and can only blink at the brightly glowing blade.]

Uh...

[What does he even say about something like that? "Hey guys, my sword is glowing for some reason"?? Kinda obvious. Any opportunity for comment he might have had is pretty immediately lost anyway, as a shrieking sound from overhead sounds as seemingly a cue for the ensuing chaos, startling him so badly that the sword practically jumps from his hands, clattering to the ground and across the stony ground like an oversized glowstick. And then everyone is up and yelling and running about and he's too easily jostled about in the commotion to quickly retrieve it. Shit.]


b. REVAN

[He'd expected to be less than useless with the katana. It's not like he's ever touched a sword in his life before waking up here, and carrying the thing around for a week didn't really count as any kind of training. He's surely more likely to accidentally hurt himself or someone else swinging the thing around without any real clue what he's doing.

And yet. When he pulls the sword from its sheath, it feels like he's been doing so all his life and just forgotten. One of the black cloaked things swoops in close with that aura of dread and cold, and when he strikes at it the movement is precise and controlled, slicing through tattered ends of fabric as the thing dodges away at the last moment before pulling back to a safer distance.

What the fuck.

He'd like that bewildered thought to be his only thought on this matter, but unfortunately, no. As wild as this seems at first, it's not the first he's heard of people being given amazing talents without them even realizing it. Thinking that this, whatever it is, could be more of the same, he feels faintly queasy in a way he knows he can't blame on the cloaked monsters.

Still. Whatever's going on, whatever his feelings on the situation are, this isn't the time for his normal overthinking. If it helps them all get out of this alive then he'll make use of it for now. Steeling himself, Shuichi lifts the blade again and sidesteps the monster as it darts in again, once again failing to do any damage but succeeding in fending it off. That's fine, he can work with that. He darts behind a ruined wall and then hurries around another, trying to lose the thing and regroup with the others he'd someone gotten separated from in the initial fray. He can feel it pursuing more than he can hear it, that dreadful aura far louder than its rattling gasps.]


c. BART AND LATER DIXON

[All this is so far out of his usual realm of expertise that he barely knows what to do. He's always been strategic and cool under pressure, but that's like...the pressure of impending deadlines, or even a hurried investigation before a trial with everyone's lives on the line. Pressure, potentially lethal pressure even, but it's still really not at all the same as a battlefield full of monsters and dark wizards slinging spells. This is frantic and fast-paced, more about quick thinking and fast reactions than strategy or whatever. He's pretty sure he'd be dead already if not for this new swordsman talent he's apparently been given.

But through it all, he can at least keep in mind that goal and grouping back up with everyone and from there...something. They could figure that could when they got to that point.

Up ahead, he spots a vaguely familiar figure. One of the other younger members of the group, someone he recognizes but hasn't talked to. But anyone is good right now. He hurries over, half-focused on keeping his footing on the hilly, sloping terrain with all its scattered rubble -- the swordsman talent hadn't extended to his general athleticism it seemed, tragically.]

H-hey!


d. WILDCARD?

((ooc: Hit me with a starter of your own if you'd like, or prod me @ tinybro if you wanna plan somehong specific!))

[therevanchist]

[Atop the wall, Revan rolls out of the way as a spell explodes harmlessly in the air where she'd been a moment before. Unfortunately, the crumbling stonework at the wall's edge can't support her weight, and gives way beneath her in a shower of masonry and mortar. She curses, not caring how un-Jedi-like it might be, then grunts with the impact of her graceless landing, forced to steady herself with an outstretched arm.

That's one way to get out of range, she supposes. At least no one saw her fail to stick the dismount--oh, dammit.]

Shuichi.

[He doesn't look like he's taking notes on anyone's performance, and Revan recovers quickly, sprinting the few meters into the cover of the wall beside him.]

You okay?

c

[outofresets]

[ Quick thinking and fast reactions where what Impulse was all about. They were the traits that had managed to keep him alive through all his own bad life decisions and all the tough spots the superhero life dumped him into. But in this situation, he still wasn't fairing much better than Shuichi with this power switch up. Against the people in masks, he was doing pretty well. It seemed like they didn't see physical attacks coming, let alone his newfound ability to steal their spells and turn them back on them.

But the creatures in the sheets were something else entirely. While his chain spell was able to pin them for a time, there were too many here, and with little restraint to his name, he'd run out of those spell slots far too quickly, and physical attacks did nothing against them as far as he could tell. The flying ones were particularly nasty, affecting him in a way that was getting harder to shake off with every encounter. So as much as he hated doing it, he'd resorted to trying to avoid them and concentrate on the human attackers, unless he could catch a stray spell that would affect them.

Unfortunately, he wasn't doing a great job of that. And as he was trying to take shelter behind some of the stone work for even just a short chance to catch his breath (and man, that was new, as a speedster that had never really been much of an issue unless he was really pushing himself), he could already feel the pressing dread that heralded the approach of more of those things. Hearing someone call out nearby broke him out of his thoughts and looking over to see one of the other teens from their group, he quickly got to moving again, rushing up to the other boy. ]

Please tell me you have some kind of holy spells or something, 'cuz I'm tapped out.

OPEN PROMPTS

[unsealthecatbox]

[There's barely any time to get ready for what's coming. She only realizes something very dangerous is approaching when she feels cold, and she's filled with fear. When the Nazgul and the Death Eaters arrive alongside the dementors she realizes things are worse than they had seemed at first.

So of course, she doesn't have a good time.

I

There are many ruins in this place. Ange isn't convinced it'll be good shelter against anyone, but it's not like she can run away far and look for cover in nearby forest. They're too far away. Still, she has to try. She leans against one of the pillars, looking around herself with attention

II

Don't be mistaken, Ange is terrified, but she also has a lot of suppressed anger and frustration. Once she got some time to take cover and get her thoughts in order, she grits her teeth. She hates things got to this, she didn't ask for any of this! What the hell! Why couldn't she be left to continue doing what she was doing before coming here?!

Very upset and with somewhat shaky footing, Ange stands up, grabbing handfuls of rocks, none of them bigger than her fist. She goes around, throwing them at the targets she can find and diving for cover at nearby objects.

Maybe a rock can distract? It's unlikely it'll hurt anyone, but if it distracts a foe even for a second, then it's good enough for her.

III

Enough fighting. Breathing hard and hugging herself, shivering from the cold, Ange tries to suppress the awful thoughts she's having. She has a lot of bad memories in her life, living them again is horrible for her.

She's currently hiding inside a particularly large bracken. There's enough space for someone else to join her. Even if it's not for long, this should give her and someone else enough reprieve to rest for a moment]

...I admit I find myself outclassed by everything that's happening now.

[And she's not surprised at all, honestly]

I

[wildernpcs]

Levicorpus!

[Ange will find some strange force lifting her off the ground, holding her in the air. The Death Eater that cast it looks at her like a beetle pinned on display.]

You're coming with us. Our mistress wants you in her audience.

open

[followingdawn]

i.
[ Five days is a long time when you've been anticipating trouble since the first one, and so it's almost a relief when Sothe's eyes snap open that night and he feels that sudden premonition that something's coming -

- no, it's something else, he decides. It's not just relief, there's something eager about the feeling that darkness is creeping over them, and that scares him as much as the sense of dread in the air.

He doesn't stay idle for more than the heartbeat it takes him to reach that conclusion, though. Immediately, he sheds the cloak he's been using as a blanket, rolling into a crouch, eyes darting around the surroundings in search of an escape route.

He doesn't find one. Shadows overhead, the figures popping into sight all around - ]

Surrounded...

[ They are so screwed. ]



ii.
[ It's pure chaos, but at least their foes are as distracted with each other as with them. Sothe takes full advantage, ducking, weaving, fading into and out of sight with a little help from his dagger.

A stray hex comes flying in his direction, and he goes invisible for a moment as he ducks and rolls. The hex hits a dementor and fizzles - but his somersault takes him straight in the path of another Death Eater, and he abruptly comes back into sight when he hits them in the calves.

Not....good.

But there's not really time to think too hard about it, so he doesn't hesitate - just takes a slash at the Death Eater's hamstrings as he scrambles backwards. Maybe it'll buy him a few seconds.

Maybe it'll just piss them off even more. ]

II

[greyerrant]

[ Loken takes advantage of the Death eater's distraction and roars a challenge, lumbering into the fray with a two-handed swing of a flaming brand from the erstwhile fire, the force behind it making an audible crunch and crack as he batters the sorcerer. ]

Get clear, boy! Fade and strike again.

[wherenoonegoes]

A. [Open]

[There's not quite enough room to get to the air just yet. The dementors are circling, and Hiccup really doesn't want to know what will happen if they catch Toothless and him while they're taking off. They need to do something though. The dementors close in, Hiccup and Toothless' fear building...

You're not my son.

Unfortunately for the dementors, Hiccup is a Viking. Fear just makes them lash out. He flicks Inferno alight, as Toothless fires a blast of plasma into the air.]

We need to start driving them off! It'll give us room to run!

B. [For Loken]

[In the chaos and confusion, the Nazgul's horses have been left unguarded. They've been trained to handle combat, but at this point it wouldn't take much to get them to bolt. The only real problem is making sure their riders don't notice them running until it's too late to do anything about it.

Hiccup, form his perch on Toothless where they're running interference by blasting at the larger flocks of dementors, pulls out his mirror and begins whispering into it.]

If anyone can hear me, I've got a plan for making giving the lead wraiths a very bad day. I just need someone to catch their attention.

C. [Wildcard]

b

[greyerrant]

[ Loken listens to his mirror, grunting as he considers the battle, already covered in small bruises and wounds from getting in close with the Nazgul and death eaters. ]

Just tell me what you need done. [ He says, weaving in and out of the stones as a morgul blade seeks his vitals. ]

[greyerrant]

A: Open (initial conflict)

[ Loken roars once the battle is joined, grabbing not one but two flaming chunks of wood from the fire, turning swiftly towards the chaotic fight, trying to shoulder barge a dementor only to snarl in frustration as it flies away from the large warrior. He turns back into the battle, his eyes wide and mouth snarling incoherently. Apparently the undead-looking Nazgul and Dementors have unleashed something like a berserk state in the normally calm warrior. ]

B: Open (later)

[ Garviel stalks amongst the stones, hunting for the Death eaters amongst the melee, no longer carrying the torches from earlier but trying to close with one to deal with them barehanded, if he is able, his hands open and ready to grab if he finds one fighting within reach of him. ]


C: Open (The end)

We can't make a stand here any longer! Go! [ Loken bellows as he squares up at the top of the stairs, obviously trying his best to usher the younger or less combat-capable members of the group away from the battleground that Weathertop has begun. [

B

[therevanchist]

[Revan's not sure why she's not at the temple anymore, nor why it's the middle of the night all of a sudden. Why does she keep waking up confused in the middle of battles? Oh well. The fight isn't going to wait for her to get an explanation. At least she's dressed this time.

These creatures might not be able to die for good, but a rock to the head will slow down practically anything. At her gesture, a fist-sized stone detaches itself from the ground and flies at one of the dark-robed figures in a barely-visible blur. Not expecting a telekinetic attack, the Nazgul staggers, and as planned, its sword dips as its hold loosens. Revan tears the weapon away with the Force, calling it to her. Her hand closes around the hilt--

Cold. Cold and dark, the end of hope, the death of suns and civilizations. Know your failure, and despair.

--and she crumples boneless to the ground, the sword landing beside her.]

[bravelyrunaway]

I. Rock Beats Magic [OPEN]

Oh crap.

[Seamus Zelazny Harper likes to think of himself (incorrectly) as a lover, not so much a fighter. It's not that he can't hold his own; even before becoming part of the crew of the Maru, he'd been in more than a few scraps and vicious firefights with the Nietzscheans and other Earth gangs. Still, when it comes to the big battles, he's usually not the captain's absolute first choice to take into a fight. Instead, he takes Tyr, the massive former mercenary, and/or Rommie the ship's AI given powerful android form, and/or his old boss-lady, Beka, who's hypercompetent. They're the big guns.

[But him? He's the super smart, excessively good-looking guy who's way more helpful tooling around in the machine shop making a super weapon that'll save the day at the absolute last second. At 5'6" Harper isn't scary, he's tiny and cute, and the only person on the crew less intimidating than him is Trance, who's purple, sparkly, and also cute.]

[Being a fighter is a secondary thing that he only ever has to do because his life is suffering, and this is one hell of a fight to have to dig down for that side of himself.]

Oh crap!

[When Harper talks, his words have texture. The emphasis on the 'oh' almost turns it into a moan. The 'crap' is sharp and hard enough that it has all the weight of a dropped F bomb.]

[He's so busy staring at the battle that he doesn't realize at first that in the chaos he lost the kid. And so he looks for him. And tries to help because obviously, these people will need to fight their way out of this and regroup. Even though he knows literally no one here, it's easy to figure out sides because apparently evil people in this universe are color-coded. Creepy people in black robes and sometimes masks = bad. Everyone else that looks like probably normal, if nonhuman, people = good. Convenient.]

[So Harper does what Harper has always done best when caught in a chaotic fight where he's seriously under-powered. He picks up a rock and starts clubbing people from behind, like the underhanded, mean-spirited, rat fink Earther bastard he is.]

[That's how he chances upon some of the others. He cowers and hides in the ruins until he sees a Death Eater zeroing in on someone else and starting up with the evil "hahaha peasant I'll take you to my master yada yada" banter. Then there's a loud THOCK as he bashes them on the head with the rock from behind, knocking them the fuck out (and possibly even killing them, because he did not hold back). Somehow he manages to always do it when they're comically mid-sentence.]

I have no idea who these creeps are or what the hell is going on, but they're way too obviously evil and also too chatty for their own good. [It's like they think they're magically invincible or something. But rock beats magic if you try hard enough. Apparently.] Which, uh, isn't a combination that's complimentary with self-preservation.

[He's too chatty for his own good, too, but there's talking a lot to vent anxious energy and talking a lot to be a sadistic A-hole and they're two very different things.]

Have you seen a little kid with black hair and blue eyes? [He holds up a hand that doesn't have a bloody rock in it to show a relatively small height.] Yea high, very stubborn, ridiculously premature hero complex? I lost him in the chaos. I probably shouldn't care since he's not even mine to begin with, but we got entombed alive together so I still feel vaguely responsible.

II. Fainting Can Be a Superpower [OPEN]

[They're getting surrounded. Harper isn't sure what to do about that. His gauss gun is long gone, lost when he and the kid fought the ghost-thing on the way here, and wasn't working anymore anyway. But some instinct takes over and he knows what he has to do. He did it before. The prospect of doing it again is terrifying, but what's even more terrifying? Freakin' dying.]

Watch my body for a minute, will ya'?

[He says it the same way someone might ask someone else to watch their stuff while they go to a public restroom.]

[With that, Harper collapses like a puppet with its strings cut, only barely managing to do a sit that rolls into a more gentle fall instead of falling like a felled tree. An ephemeral shape rises out of him that vaguely looks humanoid at first but then it changes to look like a blue almost manta rayish creature, almost as big as Harper is. It's glowing and a little transparent and looks almost...gentle.]

[At first.]

[Then it starts ramming into the enemies surrounding them rather hard, trying to put dents in Death Eaters and Nazgul alike.]

[The way Harper moves on the ground makes it seem as if he's not entirely insensate; he seems to be trying to look around with unseeing eyes, and moving his arms vaguely as if trying to prepare to defend himself despite being as defenseless as a newborn kitten.]

[The projection is powerful and might be able to help break up the crowd around them, but as long as the manta ray thing is active, he can't see or move enough to defend his body. Somebody else might want to get on that if they want the manta ray to have a chance to do its work. It can't fight them all at once, so an attack might break through.]

III. Its Hour Come Round At Last [OPEN]

cw: implications of cannibalism

[The dementors are closing in and Harper is utterly useless. He's not a very unhappy person because he learned a long time ago that focusing too much on despair was not a survival trait. But he's also not a happy person and when close to 70% of your life was various flavors of misery, the other 29% was ambivalent hard work for the sake of pure survival, and maybe 1% was genuinely idyllic, that's not a lot to work with.]

[They crack open his head (metaphorically) and suck out all the happiness with a straw, and there's no buffer. There's no "well at least a lot of the rest of my life was neither happy or nor sad, just a lot of days at the office." When the happiness is gone, all that's left is the boring salvage work and pure misery and lots of absolutely mind-numbing horror.]

[His brain almost 404s and doesn't flashback to anything because it can't figure out what nightmare to flash back to. Sure there's stuff like his parents' murder but when it comes to personal tragedies, he's an overachiever. (Batman, eat your heart out.) Still, one of the worst and most recent is right there on the surface so it finally settles on that. He falls to the ground on his knees like someone who's had the life suddenly drained out of their body. The world has gone cold and dark and miserable, and to him it seems like he's once again on the Andromeda, but during the time its corridors were filled with the acrid smells of fried circuits and burning plastics, when everything was dark or only dimly lit with emergency lighting.]

[There are some who suffer hardship quietly, but Harper doesn't do anything quietly. So when the flashbacks start, he starts screaming bloody murder. If someone shakes him hard enough to snap out of it, he might even be helpful, given he's done a Patronus Charm and has the shaky knowledge of how to do it again, but for right now, everyone just gets treated to shrill screaming.]

[If any of them didn't know what kind of screams someone makes when they're being eaten alive, they do now.]

IV. Wild Card

[Surprise me!]

ii

[shyhara]

Wha--

[He's about to question that very bizarre request before the new guy suddenly just drops, and of course Shuichi's reaction is the yelp and fumble his sword trying to make sure the dude doesn't crack his skull open or anything. A good thing the fall is somewhat controlled, since Shuichi manages little more than barely catching his shoulder and slightly slowing the drop, trying not to accidentally stab the body he was apparently just given responsibility for in the process.

He's automatically about to start checking for a pulse when the spectral manta ray suddenly materializes and starts headbutting monsters and evil wizards. It's...a hell of a thing to watch, for sure. Definitely not something he can even begin to make sense of right now, even more so than all the other fantasy bullshit going on in this mess. Shuichi has to force himself not to think about it, because overthinking things in the middle of a battle with only a glowing sea pancake for defense is probably a bad idea.

With little idea of what's expected from him -- thanks for the very clear instructions, new guy -- he settles on trying to get to cover. At least to a wall so they can have something at their backs, one less angle to defend while surrounded. Worming a thin arm around the uncomfortably still-moving body, he grits his teeth and starts dragging it towards the nearest ruin, sword arm held at the ready to hopefully ward off any baddies in the way. At least the guy is pretty small. Just please don't accidentally whack him in your weird soul projection spasming, dude.]

Superman / Kal-El | Open

[andaway]

the beginning;

[Kal’s used to sleeping lighty. He needs to sleep now, instead of bathing in sunlight and letting the rays do their work (yes, he’s still not a fan of having his powers being taken away from him), but he’s so on edge and so ready for whatever is to come that is hard to fall into a deep sleep.

So he will be one of the first ones getting out of his tent as soon as the dread starts settling in, as soon as it’s possible to notice that something is… off. He knows fear, of course he does so it’s not like he doesn’t recognize the feeling but not for no apparent reason.

He’ll give anyone around him, anyone who listens a worried frown.]

Something’s coming.


during the battle;

[Well, something came.

Kal has no magical powers, has never had them and the only thing this place this was take away his own. But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to run away, hide and hope for the best. He may not be useful in the battle, not in the way others seem to be but he’s still a trained soldier and a member of the justice league, so he’ll in dig his heels and stay there to try to put up a fight.

At first he does his best to keep people away from danger. He’ll be looking for anyone who looks in danger, hurt or that otherwise needs his help and try to hide them somewhere in the shadows of the ruins. Not that the creatures seem to have any trouble seeing in the dark, but he hopes it’ll win some time.]

Here, follow me. You should be save for a while over there.

[Eventually, though his strategy seems to shift towards… making sure the attention is on him, and that if they are going to attack someone it’s going to be him and not one of the kids. He is loud, as fast as he’s able to and he will do his best to punch anybody that gets in his way to make sure the wands, swords and faces are looking at him while others run to their safety.

He can’t do magic but he still packs a mean punch.]


dementor;

[Eventually though, he runs across something that he can’t exactly punch away. Kal hasn’t had an easy few years lately, and he’s got a lot of memories to choose from over the years and the dementors seem to find that pretty damn tasty.

So in the middle of the battleground there’s a brightly colored hero, on his knees in front of a caped creature. He’s still putting up a fight, but it’s visibly taking a toll of him and it’s getting harder for Kal to even find a reason to keep on fighting.

It doesn’t take long for a single tear to find its way down Kal’s cheek.]

1

[unsealthecatbox]

[There's cold setting in. It's quite colder than any other night Ange has spent in this world, and she feels some dread, but she hasn't paid much attention to that -- she didn't think it was a sign of anything.

Yet there's this guy saying something's coming]

What kind of...something?

[If it was anything good he wouldn't be frowning, she supposes, but does he know something she doesn't? Most likely]

[cleansingstrike]

[Open]

[An attack under the cover of darkness, with only the moon able to illuminate the battlefield.

The tactic was sound, though she'd already been expecting the company.

Even as Agrias slept, she had kept her weapons at the ready, griping sword and shield with each hand.]

Stay close.

[She said to those near enough to listen.]

And stay alert.


[Closed to Ovelia]

[The reality was that Ovelia's presence was a double-edged sword. It afforded her an invaluable comfort and piece of mind, knowing that she could remain by her Queen's side. Though it also meant that her attention would be divided during times of combat.

Agrias had known of this eventuality, and had prepared herself to the best of her abilities. She was no stranger to combat or coming to the rescue of her allies and friends. Having Ovelia threatened, however, was an added sense of urgency.

A slice on the creature's back, followed by using her shield to push them back and away. All in a matter of seconds as Agrias placed herself in front of Her Majesty.]

You'll not claim her.

[The knight held out her sword, glowing as she stared down the creature.]

Not while I draw breath.


[Wildcard]

[ofnovalue]

Agrias! -The battle had began in such chaos that she'd initially lost track of her knight, but the very sight of her, golden hair illuminated in the holy moonlight, brought her a sense of relief she couldn't properly put to words. Just knowing she was there, safe, apparently unharmed thus far...

Ovelia quickly rushed to Agrias' side, casting the Aegis over her, assuring she'd still be protected from the demons that had set upon them.-

These creatures of darkness... They can be fallen by holy might. Your faith shall be your champion! -And not just her faith in God, but their faith in each other...-

Open

[easy_as_cake]

I. [She'd been researching: surgical techniques, experimental medicines, trials and failures and more failures and more, until her eyes were burning from staring at a screen so long, and then suddenly she was falling, instead. Falling and being talked at and talked to and very little of it made sense, but that was hardly new these days. Falling... here.

Wherever here is.

She's pretty sure it's the opposite of what the voices described. It's certainly not a forest, at least, just a long climb up a depressingly tall hill-mountain and something at the top that demands she reach it.

And nobody mentioned running and yelling and whatever is happening at the top of the hill when she finally does reach it. She'd heard it a bit on the hike up, but whatever had put her here in the first place was urging her to keep going, so she had. She's not sure anymore that it was the best idea. Her tail curls close to her leg, almost like a security blanket, as she crests the hilltop...

And promptly has an unfriendly-looking flash of light fly over her head. She yelps, covering her head with her arms and darting in a random direction, not really paying attention to what, or who, might be in the way.]


II. Surprise Me


((And a note: Trance will be introing properly once things calm down, so if you'd rather meet when no one is in danger of getting soul-sucked I'll have a post up after we get to the next camp. But I'm mean and decided it was funny to drop her into the middle of a battle, so here she is. Not gonna tag her out in case people don't want to be surprised by a purple girl they've never seen before in the middle of a battle.))

[mark_in_the_sands]

[Cassie doesn't recognize the woman, but she's not wearing a robe and looks like she's panicking rather an attacking, so she's going to err on the side of "probably not a bad guy".]

Look out!

Have a tiny blonde girl attempting to bodily tackle you out of the way of another hostile light-flash, Trance.

Superboy/Jon | Open!

[shieldedson]

[OOC: Jon is going to be here and around for the first half, before ending up in the Brugh.]

A Light in the Darkness (Open)

[It is a complete, honest-to-God accident that Jon loses Harper when they see the battle ahead. Maybe he should have waited a bit longer for Harper to stop reacting to what's in front of them, but he's got a vague idea of what these new powers can do, now, which is important because otherwise he would be extremely out of luck. It's going to take a bit to remember that he's no longer as strong or invulnerable as he's used to being, even if not accidentally blasting things with his heat vision is a big plus.

For now, well, he's a ten year old who has just dove into a big battle, brightly glowing like a light bulb- at least it seems to be pushing the Dementors and Nazgul away, but that only does so much when he has to get pretty close, sometimes yelling warnings, trying to ignore the chilling feeling, the creeping fear, as much as he can.]

Watch out!

[Then again, depending on the person, he might be more of a distraction than any kind of assistance, between his age and wearing a red cape with the S on his jacket.]

Kal:

[Somehow, he's ended up with his back against a still standing, if mildly crumbly wall, layers of ruins ahead of him making the light he's been maintaining not as useful as it could be, trying to not shake in his sneakers thanks to a Nazgul steadily encroaching where it can, angles and bends of piecemeal walls making it much easier for the undead thing.

If he was allowed to watch more horror movies he probably would have realized this was a rookie mistake on his part sooner.

But, he's still had it beat over his head a few times to think and so with minimum flailing, he concentrates again, and...

Golden light blooms, steadily and slowly upwards from the ground, reaching out about ten feet- just past the Nazgul, sword in hand- until it grows into the recognizable form of wheat, just bright and glowing. The Nazgul, by all appearances, doesn't seem to be appreciate it much, which gives him just enough time to breathe out in relief.]

Whoa.

Sothe:

[It turns out that while most of magic he's discovered works pretty good on two of the distinct groups of attackers here, it doesn't really do so much for the third group in ominous skull masks and black cloaks, at least not if he wants to keep out of range of the magic they're shooting off. As such, he's footing it as fast as he can away, occasionally jumping over and scrambling around broken stone and fallen rubble, until...]

Oof! Sorry!

[followingdawn]

[ To be fair, it's easy to miss Sothe in a battle like this, where there's not only a lot going on already, but he's compounding it by using his weapon's invisibility curse to his full advantage, fading in and out of sight to keep anyone from locking in on him long enough to keep track.

The shock of being run into, though, knocks him straight out of stealth mode and back into full vision, and that makes them one hell of a target. ]

Watch it!

[ He grabs Jon around the waist and tackles him, bringing them both to the ground as an errant spell zips right over their heads.

That, apparently, is what he's telling Jon to watch out for. He knows he's kind of hard to see first in this. ]

Anita | Open

[fiteclub]

Weaponless

[Going from their camp on the top of the hill to the Brugh without her weapon was bad enough. Going from the Brugh to the middle of a battle without a weapon beats that entirely by a thousandfold. The sudden permeating chill and feeling of despair almost knocks her over in surprise.]

Oh, hell no.

[Anita instinctively dodges a colorful burst of light that shoots just past her, soon teleporting away, landing on top of an old stone arch, end stones shifting under the sudden addition of her weight. If it's this loose, she doesn't want to think about the key stone keeping the whole thing up.

She spies someone else with the group running, chased by someone or something in a dark cloak. A completely stupid idea occurs to her, but if it works, it isn't really stupid, is it?]

Hey! Over here!

Dixon

[This isn't the dark of an industralized world; even out into the woods or swampland, light pollution from the suburbs and cities cut into the night sky. You have to get much farther away than Anita's nearly ever been for there to be a difference.

At least, until here. The sky is both lit with stars twinkling beyond the occasional clouds, and the moon's presence offers enough light to see by, showing her the telltale glimmer of gold not too far away that doesn't come from any of their newfound enemies, near black garbed figures- whether they're people or one of those undead creatures doesn't matter much- not with the kind of magic the first group has and the unnerving fear the latter inspire.

She scoops a large rock into one hand, and a bunch of pebbles into the other, before approaching close enough to toss the pebbles in the opposite direction, and lunges forward, intent on braining at least one of the people in black with the rock.]

[Wildcard]

[Got a different idea? Go for it.]

Re: Anita | Open

[greyerrant]

[ Loken, already retreating towards the stairs after a long fight, his torch now bisected by a morgul blade, looks up, and says. ]

Yes?

[balladin]

The teleportation takes his breath away.

The real trouble is that it never comes back.

Robbie had been in the Brugh, staring at things he probably shouldn’t stare at from a distance that couldn’t be called safe for a good five minutes when the 'port potted him here. He was already not in the best mindset.

And then, here. Chaos. Scrambling. Screeching.

It sounds like –

Why is it so cold?

Sounds like –

It should be hotter than this.

Like –

The darkness and the cold bottom out, and all Robbie can see is the ground getting smaller and smaller as he was thrown backwards and up, brighter and brighter as the explosion engulfs it, dimmer and dimmer as consciousness slipped away. “No, please, not again.”

His stomach lurches with nausea as the stumbling to the ground motion fails to match up with the movement of the overwhelming memory. It was colder than it should’ve been then, too, the speed that he had was like a bone chilling wind.

Fragments of other memories blow in after that. Hospital beds, handcuffs, gunshots, but they’re all interlaced and overlaid with a never-ending loop of the one snippet of the Stamford explosion that Rob saw and it’s a gutpunch every time.

He can barely even see the thing swooping down over him.

[wherenoonegoes]

[There's a whistle and a boom. The dementor flees as it's engulfed in fire. Something else swoops down over him. Something much larger and much more benevolent.]

Hey! Can you hear me?

[Hiccup peeks down from over Toothless. The dragon looks down under himself with his tongue out and teeth retracted.]

Cassie: Open & Closed Prompts

[mark_in_the_sands]

I. Open

[Cassie isn't as strong as she's used to being, and she's not as well-rested and well-fed as she'd like, and she still can't fly, but none of that matters: they're under attack now, and she's going to do everything she can to protect her team and drive off their attackers. She seizes her walking stick from the ground beside her and jams it into the fire, flames immediately catching hold of the cloth she'd wrapped around the end for just this purpose.

She doesn't have holy powers, and her demi-divinity has been suppressed (if it even counts), so fire and her fists will have to do.]

HOLA!

II. Closed - Kon

[She's been holding her own, all things considered - she's not down yet, after all - but this isn't just her team, or even her team and panicked civilians. They need to all work together, and they haven't quite learned how yet.

She'd just fended off a cloaked figure with several jabs of her flaming torch when it seemed that she suddenly plunged into the icy waters of the Arctic, the cold clawing almost as much from within as without. Over the sounds of the fight around her, she recognized the sounds of fists pummeling flesh - hard flesh, hard bone, but not hard enough.

Superboy Prime was going to kill Kon. Kon was going to die.

His name tore its way out of her lungs with the rest of the strength in her body.]

KON!