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+---- Thread: [SWP] it's fingers of foam, circling around (/showthread.php?tid=2640)
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it's fingers of foam, circling around - Random Events - 07-19-2018
grabbing everything on the land
The waters recede from the Denoctian shores, revealing all wonders of the sea: glittering seashells, brighter and more vibrant than any seen before; stray crabs with intricate designs wrought upon their shells, scuttling sideways across the still-damp sands; wonderful beds of coral and seaweed, of every color known to man, shifting in the wind as they might have once shifted in the ocean current. The stray fish can be seen flopping on the land, struggling to get back to the ocean - but the ones that are left behind do not seem to be dying. In fact, they seem to take just as well to land as they do to water.
For nearly a day it’s peaceful, the newly-revealed ocean bed seeming to call out and invite the equines of the Night Court closer, to inspect the wonders it has to boast.
Until, of course, the waters come crashing back.
It happens in the blink of an eye, waves taller than the walls of the castle roaring in to reclaim the beach. It sweeps in with a fury, taking back its land with all the rage and power of a god. It falls like the crack of a whip, flooding the beach and extending its reach farther and farther up the shores, until the sands fade away and are replaced with cobblestone. The water does not stop, but surges on without mercy.
As the waves crash upon the shore, sweeping through the streets of the city, the storm clouds begin to gather. Thunder and lightning rumble in the skies, but no rain falls - not yet. Dry lightning strikes at the land, while the sea water continues to invade the capitol.
And all the while, the waters continue to rise.
A tsunami has crashed upon the shores of the Night Court! For the entirety of a day the waters recede farther and farther out to sea, leaving behind a wet seabed with all the wonders of the ocean, awaiting to be explored. But the land is not to be trusted: come the next morning, the waters rush back in with a vengeance with waves taller than the castle.
The waters will flood the capitol, but within the city walls with come to be no higher than a foot in most areas; then does it finally stop, the waters ebbing at the feet of the residents, invading houses and soaking the markets. The beach is decimated, structures crushed beneath the weight of the water.
As the waves crash upon the shore, the storm clouds gather. They do not weep, but thunder and lightning crash in the skies, striking at the plains and prairies of Denocte.
Will you be caught in the fury of the tsunami? Or perhaps you’re left to encounter the winds and lightning of the incoming storm, that sparks the ground and leaves glass and smoke in its wake?
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RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Raymond - 07-21-2018
He rarely trusted anything or anyone, so perhaps that was an unnecessary statement, but sometimes it was good to be reminded that only people are treacherous and not only animals want you dead. The universe entertains creative endeavors only for the opportunity to destroy them, and the sea along Denocte's remote borders lapped and danced its silent threats for all the kingdom to see - should they choose to look.
Raymond had looked, had marked the sea's erratic behavior, and the part of him that ate grass and still wanted to jump at the movement of the slightest shadow shuddered its primal affright.
This was the deep breath before a storm. Clouds gathered like carrion crows in the sky, painting it into a sheet of purple bruises, and even Ruth had woken from a deep slumber in the Armas as though roused by an unseen hand. Little tremors - the passage of tiny equine feet, the occasional cry of rutting elk through the range - never bothered her, but rumbles that made even a Tarrasque's footsteps feel soft unsettled her as deeply as they unsettled him.
Mother nature loosed her breath on the following morning.
Raymond was not in the city proper when the tsunami hit, preferring as was his wont the open spaces afforded him by being nearly anywhere else. But he saw the wall of water roll in and break upon the castle walls, brown and churning in its insistence, and no sooner did disaster strike than he ran toward rather than away from the danger.
Where had Calliope been amidst all this?
The streets of the Night Court were full of rushing water and dangerous flotsam. He waded through it, head on a swivel, careful not to lose his footing lest he be swept away and dashed across some unforgiving wall. Amidst the chaos, his devil-red skin stood out like a rallying point.
Raymond. Ruth's inner voice was agitated, a cornered-lion sound vibrating with the urge to pounce.
Be ready.
Overhead, the sky came alive with tongues of forked lightning and whipping winds. The storm was coming hard on the tsunami's heels.
Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Anyone | getting this started
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Calliope - 07-21-2018
'every gesture was one of disorder and violence, as if a lioness had come into the room.'
*
Calliope watched the sea sweep back out to the deep. She watched the whale bones rise up like a splash of dread white against the sands in the distance. The seaweeds swayed in the ocean breeze, gaping for water as plants gape in the drought seasons. All the secrets of the shoreline are laid bare before her, crabs with old scripture on their shells and shells brighter than the sun.
But she is a unicorn who has been a wildcat and the ground feels like a trembling, dying thing beneath her hooves. Her blood sings with the wrongness of the sands before her, for the way the sea sweeps back like the night before the dawn. This is not the sea tide that rose and fell before her and Raymond, a backdrop to the fires in their hearts.
This is a killing sea and she laments that there is no great beast driving back the waves that she might venture down the cliffs for and drag her horn down the rocks until it sparks and smolders like a war-blaze.
For a day she walked the path back to Denocte warning the travelers to head to the high-ground. She walked and felt how the earth seemed to breathe beneath her, great sighs of sadness that whispered to her bones to run, run, run for the hills, the mountains, for any place high enough above the sea that it might look like heaven to the things laid bare upon the sands.
The Riftlands trained them well and she remembers what it feels like to watch the landscape shift before her like a dream-- sea to stone, mountains to shells large enough to be a continent, caves to towers that burrowed down into the sky. This slight trembling feels like a soft thing to her, a disaster with no rabid magic that wants to kill, kill, kill.
For a day it was quiet, but for that sorrow sigh, and as the night came and went the stone walls of the Court rose up like bones from the earth in the distance. Just as she moves towards those walls, loathe to feel the wilderness swallowed up by stone, the sighs turn to screams. It feels as if the dirt might crack open between her feet and swallow the entire world in no more time than it might take her to blink.
And overheard the skies turn dark, darker than her skin and the sun glows behind that darkness a crimson red color that is darker than blood.
Calliope's skin sings for the charge in the air that comes with the crying of the earth and the distant roar of the seas as they sweep back in with biblical violence to devour what they briefly offered like an apology. The horror calms her even as her blood sparks as if that overhead lighting rages not in the sky but through the rivers of her veins. The fury of the sea as it comes for her is nothing more than a spark to the wildfire of the fury that roars like a lion between her bones.
Let the sea come, let the lightning crack and raze against the prairies and turn the world to nightmare. This will not be the end of Calliope who knows what it feels like to have electricity run through her like whitewater, who walked on a frozen sea and challenged a monster beneath the waves.
She screams for the storm, for the death coming for them from the crumbling cliffs that rises and rises unstoppable even by the power of her mighty will. Calliope's clarion call for the stragglers to come to the court and the higher grounds sounds like a roar as it echoes against the sea rising across the lower prairies. It echoes almost endlessly behind her as she runs for the walls, slow enough to let her darkness flash like a banner in the bright bursts of lightning white.
A boulder looms up before her, a pillar of salvation above the waters starting to lap at her knees and the brine that stings as it sinks into her pores. It's to the top of that boulder that she leaps and her hooves sound like screams as they scramble where the bottom of the stone has become wet.
And when she's atop that boulder, a hoof raised like a starving lion who has seen the last antelope left in the wild, she calls out for the stragglers and waits to hear an answering call to know who she must come for.
Above the lightning rages and the dry air feels like kindling against the fury that promises to come. Calliope blazes like faith in the brightness that flickers like dying stars and she's almost darker than the places where the sea roars under black storm clouds.
Her eyes look like a storm of their own when she glares in the darkness and watches for a glimpse of red and one of white, bright enough to be bone. There is no sea, no thunder storm, no disaster that can hold her back if either Raymond or Shrike are out there in place where the ocean is high enough, fast enough or angry enough to drown.
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Araxes - 07-22-2018
ARAXES
TENDER HEART
She had rushed out on to the sands with cries of alarm almost immediately, and called for them to run, to take shelter. Tsunami tsunami tsunami! Written in the books of the past, only one or two had ever happened, but they had been devastating. She had brought many back with her, urging them to seek higher ground within the capitol, or to run further out from the lands if they could and seek shelter elsewhere. It was dangerous.
It had come when she had returned to the capitol herself, and then the waves had slammed the mighty structure. She staggered, knocked off balance from the rumbling waters that even rose up and over the wall to hit her. It was not enough to flood, to reach that much higher, but it had been enough.
The sea had left its mark on Denocte and its court.
Her hooves sloshed through water, her tail dragging behind her, weighed down as she took in to account all the damage. What was whole that she could find, she lifted up out of the way with what little telekinesis she had, nudging it from herself gently and putting it where the waters couldn't reach it.
In the distance, there was a rumble of a storm, and her head leaned, eyes going wide as a flicker of fear cracked through her spine and over her nerves. The storms of home, it felt like, had come to Novus. The waters, the angry sky. Her heart stuttered in her chest, but she shook her head and wallowed out in to the waters to seek out survivors.
Some were on higher grounds, and she asked if they needed anything, working her way through. Araxes was dedicated to the people she had been with for so long, and her tender heart left her open and vulnerable, but it came in handy, perhaps, for the people she had come to love.
There were others, she saw, one bloody bay man wading the waters. She had met Raymond before, and her head nodded, before she moved on her way, seeking to help anyone that needed it.
@ any
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Raymond - 07-26-2018
***
Calliope was not amongst the horses trapped within the walls when the tsunami hit. He almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief for the fact but, knowing her, the unicorn was in far more dire straits than these and loving every moment of it.He steeled himself. There was no way to protect her here, now, when he could not even begin to guess her whereabouts, and she of all horses knew how to take care of herself. There were other things that needed doing now.
Ducking into an alley, he beckoned a cluster of huddled denoctians from their shelter with a tone that brooked no argument. "Take shelter in the keep," he urged them, knowing that a structure that had stood as long as that would at the least have a good roof overhead and be mostly beyond the reach of weather. He only hoped that it was beyond the tsunami, too, but wet ankles were preferable to wet everythings.
Systematically he searched the court proper, delegating teams where necessary to ensure even those injured could make it safely to shelter. He recognized only some of the faces hustling by, their brows drawn with worry and bewilderment. Nodding back to the familiar spotted shape of Araxes and ignoring the flotsam drawing blood as it eddied about his unprotected legs, he waded near enough to hail her. "Send them to the keep if they can't make it to higher ground," the red stallion urged.
There was no time to weigh alternatives.
Raymond. He looked north, as though the tarrasque speaking so plainly to his thoughts was only just at his side. Birds. The word carried with it a waiting excitement with which he had once been familiar, far larger now that Ruth herself was not as she once was. It was the excitement of the hunt, the excitement that had swatted Florentine like a moth out of the air. It was predator seeking prey, but the prey she drew for his benefit was no prey he had seen before.
Not birds, but Thunderbirds. And they were flying south on the violent stormfront.
Turning again to address Araxes and the others nearby, he said, "we must shelter as many of the injured and infirm as we can." A burst of color erupted through the link as the hellbeast readied herself to pounce. "We're under attack."
***
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Thranduil - 07-29-2018
Why did fate always have to ruin a good thing? It had been so lovely, such a wonderful proposition. Slip along the ocean bed and collect the many trickets, and treasures. Not that he had been blind to the eerie foreboding unnaturalness or the suspense which hung over the dying fish and coral. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. And it whispered in his ear to leave, to go. But then there was a shiny pearl. And farther down, a glimmering sun disk shell. And who could say no to that?
He should have said no to that. He knew that when he heard the roar. When he felt the trembles. When he was racing back up the dunes as fast as his legs could carry him he knew. They were absolutely screwed. He especially- all for a few pearls and shells. Idiot.
The first wave tangled his legs over the last of the dunes and down the gold fell. A roar, beastly and savage sounds in the water as he rises up above the surf, finding his footing again as the wave recedes for another go. It wasn’t going to give in much, so there was little time to waste. Legs, kick and pull as he climbs the last dune and up towards the steps to the market. Screams, shouts and prays echo the terrors now filling the sky as the water, waves broken up by the outer dunes, now floods through.
He should have learned his lesson. The gold should have continued to race the water up to the keep (a race he was somewhat winning). But, there was a lovely cuff. Abandoned. Bobbing in the water. Forgotten and kicked about as horses raced from the ankle deep, rising water. You shouldn’t blame him when he stopped. Shouldn’t blame him when he reached for it. Children will always reach for candy, and the gold will always reach for shiny objects.
The gold found out, a minute and half later, the object wasn’t as free as he thought, when, in pushing through the deeper water, a roar louder than the rest, was heard above the chaos. The wave was massive, but he didn’t have time to marvel. Over the outer banks it crashed, and crushed beneath it the lower stalls. Splinters of wood, metal, and even the lovely objects of jewelry became knives and razors.
By the time the gold had made his way to the upper courtyards, he’d numbed to the several stinging cuts on his lower legs. Salt was supposed to heal right? Perhaps that’s what it meant: it gave you all the pain up front. He was now walking, limbs exhausted, when he came upon a red brute who he’d met before, and a speckled bird. Catching only the last of what the commander in chief like voice said the gold was brought to a halt several paces from them. Exhaustion was beginning to muffle his tongue, but it still rose in his brain. No shit Sherlock.
Yet if this was an attack…where do you fight? Still by them he turns to look back out through an opening. Water. Flotsam. Bodies. And no cause could be seen but Mother Nature or a God, vicious and cruel as they welded the weapons of water and sky. How do you fight against that?
(Still he did not run. As little invested in this castle and keep as he was, the gold remained beside the other two, listening, waiting. Call him out for it though, and you might scare him off, but perhaps there was a little fight budding in him for this land.)
OOC ::
"speech"
---
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Isra - 07-29-2018
|
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Araxes - 07-31-2018
ARAXES
TENDER HEART
"Attack?" The speckled woman felt her heart flutter before her wings spread out, the lightning in the air making feathers stand on end as she looked up. "..the Thunderbirds?" They were a creature that hardly came out to the Court itself, but this was a massive storm rolling in, and her ears fell back as her head nodded immediately. "The castle will shelter anyone from the birds here in the Court, the thick walls will do well to hold the attack at bay and protect innocents. We must find shelter for the others as you said, the high ground is not safe if it is open." The last thing they needed were others to be attacked, and she stepped forward, her hooves sloshing through the waters that had come.
But it was unlikely there would be any way to hold the attacks off for long. They wouldn't exactly swoop in on them, but they were unpredictable creatures at best. "Can you find others and help them find shelter? High ground and protection to keep them from getting in the way of the storm or anything else that comes this way." She hadn't heard of the birds coming this far to the capital, and it worried her more than anything.
It was a disaster, but they had to work with one another to survive. The Court was in shambles but she would be damned before letting any of her people get hurt worse than it was already. "If you find others strong enough to help, they can too. We just.. we need to get this done. We cannot let our people get hurt or fall." She refused, and she would fight if she had to.
RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Wormlust - 08-02-2018
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RE: it's fingers of foam, circling around - Raymond - 08-03-2018
And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder
One of the four beasts saying,
'Come and see.' and I saw.
***
One of the four beasts saying,
'Come and see.' and I saw.
***
The ranger offered Araxes enough attention to follow the thread of her words, taking the points of data they offered and stitching them into the chaotic tapestry that his trek through the flooded city streets had cobbled together. Thunder clapped overhead as some semblance of process took shape in the trickle of horses taking shelter in the castle, called to shelter by the scaled unicorn Isra.
If Calliope had been in the city, she would have made her presence known by now.
We cannot let our people get hurt or fall, Araxes concluded.
Raymond fixed her with a stony glance, battle haze creeping over his expression like hoarfrost. "If they made it this far," he replied, invoking the dragon and forced imprisonment with a derisive verbal handwave, "then they won't fall now." No one who walks through fire comes out the same creature they were before. Fire forges anew, makes phoenixes of those that dare to emerge on the other side.
The flashes of a distressingly distant battle went off like fireworks in the back corners of his mind. A flash of pain, deadened by unreality, sent dull ripples through his consciousness. He stamped his impatience.
"Keep order here. There's scant shelter between here and the Armas, and if those things are after a meal I'd rather they try red meat on for size." He clicked his tongue and flashed a knowing half-grin before charging off toward Night Court's outer walls. What he saw when he reached them was truly a sight to behold - and that's saying a lot, given the general fuckery that the riftlands got up to.
Lightning arced like spider lace across the livid blue-black sky, illuminating the dark silhouettes of thunderbirds as they approached the court on the wing. Vitreus lake seemed to be not a mirror but a pit, out of whose belly forks of lightning spun with grasping fingers toward their sisters in the sky. Some of the birds had joined in battle with what must have been pegasi, but what madness would draw them aloft in this storm the red stallion could not say. What he could say was that they needed help here, in defense of the city.
Ruth. Come.
A ground-shattering roar rose from the distant north, scarcely more than another peal of thunder in the deepening storm. The link between them was red, red, red, and the cat he knew slipped beneath the Tarrasque's bloodwrath as though victim to a swift, sure current. Raymond's tail blade curved up over his back as he stood, a lone streak of crimson in the open space between the thunderbirds and the court.
If Calliope had been in the city, she would have made her presence known by now.
We cannot let our people get hurt or fall, Araxes concluded.
Raymond fixed her with a stony glance, battle haze creeping over his expression like hoarfrost. "If they made it this far," he replied, invoking the dragon and forced imprisonment with a derisive verbal handwave, "then they won't fall now." No one who walks through fire comes out the same creature they were before. Fire forges anew, makes phoenixes of those that dare to emerge on the other side.
The flashes of a distressingly distant battle went off like fireworks in the back corners of his mind. A flash of pain, deadened by unreality, sent dull ripples through his consciousness. He stamped his impatience.
"Keep order here. There's scant shelter between here and the Armas, and if those things are after a meal I'd rather they try red meat on for size." He clicked his tongue and flashed a knowing half-grin before charging off toward Night Court's outer walls. What he saw when he reached them was truly a sight to behold - and that's saying a lot, given the general fuckery that the riftlands got up to.
Lightning arced like spider lace across the livid blue-black sky, illuminating the dark silhouettes of thunderbirds as they approached the court on the wing. Vitreus lake seemed to be not a mirror but a pit, out of whose belly forks of lightning spun with grasping fingers toward their sisters in the sky. Some of the birds had joined in battle with what must have been pegasi, but what madness would draw them aloft in this storm the red stallion could not say. What he could say was that they needed help here, in defense of the city.
Ruth. Come.
A ground-shattering roar rose from the distant north, scarcely more than another peal of thunder in the deepening storm. The link between them was red, red, red, and the cat he knew slipped beneath the Tarrasque's bloodwrath as though victim to a swift, sure current. Raymond's tail blade curved up over his back as he stood, a lone streak of crimson in the open space between the thunderbirds and the court.
***
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.