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abraxaslogs2021-08-24 10:21 am
abraxasmods) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-08-24 10:21 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !npc,
- alucard; the hierophant,
- amos burton; the lovers,
- brad bakshi; the wheel of fortune,
- coraline finch; the tower,
- eponine thenardier; the hanged man,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- gideon nav; strength,
- harrowhark nonagesimus; the magician,
- hector; the magician,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- homelander; judgement,
- jon sims; the high priestess,
- jordan hennessy; the moon,
- julie lawry; the wheel of fortune,
- kay faraday; the fool,
- kylo ren; the tower,
- lloyd henreid; the lovers,
- louis; death,
- majima goro; the hanged man,
- martin blackwood; the empress,
- nadine cross; the world,
- nero (drakengard); the devil,
- phoenix wright; the lovers,
- relena peacecraft; death,
- roland deschain; death,
- ronan lynch; the moon,
- sam wilson; justice,
- sasarai; judgement,
- stephen strange; death,
- yennefer of vengerberg; the chariot
EVENT #3: AN EXECUTION OF SORTS
THE EXECUTION
As if performing a vicious mockery for what should be a somber day, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The rays of sun catch the iron brackets that hold up the gallows that have been erected overnight for the occasion, the gentle breeze causing the noose to swing ominously. Public executions do not happen frequently in Thorne, so a crowd gathers in strained anticipation of the grim sentence.
The welcome guests, who have up until this point been free to come and go within the confines of the castle, have been mandated to view the execution. It is meant to serve both as an example of Thorne’s power as well as a lesson to those who might think to try the same. The courtyard, which was buzzing with quiet murmurs, turns silent as Ambrose strides up the wooden steps of the gallows, flanked by two guards and a haggard-looking Jonathan Sims, arms bound behind him. As the guards march their charge to the trapdoor that will serve as executioner and position the noose around his neck, Ambrose turns to address the crowd that has gathered- willfully or not.
“Citizens of Thorne, our esteemed welcomed guests, it is with disappointment and a heavy heart that we’ve gathered to see to the execution of one of the very guests we sought aid from in our time of need. In a selfish and distrustful act, I was attacked, an action I cannot abide.”
He turns halfway toward his charge. “Jonathan Sims, you are charged with assault and intention of lethal harm. The punishment is to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
Ambrose raises his arm to signal the executioner to pull the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Jon’s feet, steely expression locked on the prisoner’s face one last time.
The welcome guests, who have up until this point been free to come and go within the confines of the castle, have been mandated to view the execution. It is meant to serve both as an example of Thorne’s power as well as a lesson to those who might think to try the same. The courtyard, which was buzzing with quiet murmurs, turns silent as Ambrose strides up the wooden steps of the gallows, flanked by two guards and a haggard-looking Jonathan Sims, arms bound behind him. As the guards march their charge to the trapdoor that will serve as executioner and position the noose around his neck, Ambrose turns to address the crowd that has gathered- willfully or not.
“Citizens of Thorne, our esteemed welcomed guests, it is with disappointment and a heavy heart that we’ve gathered to see to the execution of one of the very guests we sought aid from in our time of need. In a selfish and distrustful act, I was attacked, an action I cannot abide.”
He turns halfway toward his charge. “Jonathan Sims, you are charged with assault and intention of lethal harm. The punishment is to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
Ambrose raises his arm to signal the executioner to pull the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Jon’s feet, steely expression locked on the prisoner’s face one last time.
MEANWHILE
Several miles away, atop a hill in the forest, two figures meet between portals. Oliver, tall and lithe, steps out to stand next to a petite waif of a woman who looks at him with a familiar smile. Her voice is lilting like a songbird’s when she speaks up, turning her gaze back over the city.
“Find out anything good?”
He hums softly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Two dozen prisoners, give or take. The one I met was very grateful for our assistance.”
“That’s good. Perhaps her gratitude will endear our cause to them.”
With a nod, he takes a deep breath and then sighs. “It’s time, Elizabeth,” he says, lifting one hand to open a new portal.
She nods and raises her arms above her head, eyes closing in concentration. Her arms begin to glow green while the grass around her begins to ripple in rings. The very ground seems to surge with power that radiates outward from her, and it isn’t long before the castle and the town are engulfed in a heavy air of intense magic. It courses from her in shockwaves.
Satisfied, Oliver steps through the portal.
In the wake of the magic flood, the walls of the dungeons seem to shudder for a long moment, and the doors suddenly clink open. No guards come rushing in to shut them, and in fact, all ambient noise in the dungeons seems to stop as the whole of the people of Thorne freeze in place. The hall becomes lit by daylight as a portal opens at the end of it, showing them the crowd of welcomed guests and Jon alone on the platform.
In the portal, alone stands Oliver, hand offered to the prisoners in welcome. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, though this seems to be by nature rather than intention.
“Please come with me.”
“Find out anything good?”
He hums softly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Two dozen prisoners, give or take. The one I met was very grateful for our assistance.”
“That’s good. Perhaps her gratitude will endear our cause to them.”
With a nod, he takes a deep breath and then sighs. “It’s time, Elizabeth,” he says, lifting one hand to open a new portal.
She nods and raises her arms above her head, eyes closing in concentration. Her arms begin to glow green while the grass around her begins to ripple in rings. The very ground seems to surge with power that radiates outward from her, and it isn’t long before the castle and the town are engulfed in a heavy air of intense magic. It courses from her in shockwaves.
Satisfied, Oliver steps through the portal.
In the wake of the magic flood, the walls of the dungeons seem to shudder for a long moment, and the doors suddenly clink open. No guards come rushing in to shut them, and in fact, all ambient noise in the dungeons seems to stop as the whole of the people of Thorne freeze in place. The hall becomes lit by daylight as a portal opens at the end of it, showing them the crowd of welcomed guests and Jon alone on the platform.
In the portal, alone stands Oliver, hand offered to the prisoners in welcome. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, though this seems to be by nature rather than intention.
“Please come with me.”
CHOICES
Everything is happening quickly.
Once through the portal to the execution yard there's a moment of chaos and confusion at the sudden arrivals and then it stops. Everything and everyone has stopped, save for the guests, the prisoners, and the two mages who have come to their aid. Guards freeze in place. The attended mages are still as statues. Banners lifted by the wind remain where they are and even the noose hanging from the gallows stills.
"Time for them is halted." Oliver addresses the assembled, his voice projected to be heard but his tone calm. "It will remain so for one hour, no more. An hour is all you have to make your choices. Remain here in Thorne, or take a portal to either Solvunn or the Free Cities. The portals cannot be traced by the Thorean authorities, so no need to fear them giving chase.”
Elizabeth emerges from a portal behind him, which closes as she enters the yard. They both raise an arm and two white circles spread through the air, showing new towns in the distance on the other side. There is an ethereal glow around them.
“The Free Cities are martially powerful and seek to destroy the Singularity,” Oliver narrates, gesturing at one of the portals. “Solvunn is reclusive and claims neutrality, both in politics and in regard to the Singularity. I advise that you think hard about your choice. Travel between cities is not exactly easy."
He turns back to the crowd with an almost apologetic smile. “I'm sorry you don't have more time to make this decision. We’ll meet again.”
Opening a third portal with the wave of her arm, Elizabeth, who has not spoken a word, gives the group a wink and leaves with Oliver. Their portal closes behind them, leaving everyone to begin making moves.
Now is the time to make serious choices. Two portals stand in the courtyard, one courtesy of Oliver and one of Elizabeth. The Free Cities and Thorne are enemies, Solvunn watching both to see where the cards end up falling. None trust one another, none work with one another beyond trade through middle-men in Solvunn. The clock is ticking.
Someone should probably get Jon out of that noose.
Once through the portal to the execution yard there's a moment of chaos and confusion at the sudden arrivals and then it stops. Everything and everyone has stopped, save for the guests, the prisoners, and the two mages who have come to their aid. Guards freeze in place. The attended mages are still as statues. Banners lifted by the wind remain where they are and even the noose hanging from the gallows stills.
"Time for them is halted." Oliver addresses the assembled, his voice projected to be heard but his tone calm. "It will remain so for one hour, no more. An hour is all you have to make your choices. Remain here in Thorne, or take a portal to either Solvunn or the Free Cities. The portals cannot be traced by the Thorean authorities, so no need to fear them giving chase.”
Elizabeth emerges from a portal behind him, which closes as she enters the yard. They both raise an arm and two white circles spread through the air, showing new towns in the distance on the other side. There is an ethereal glow around them.
“The Free Cities are martially powerful and seek to destroy the Singularity,” Oliver narrates, gesturing at one of the portals. “Solvunn is reclusive and claims neutrality, both in politics and in regard to the Singularity. I advise that you think hard about your choice. Travel between cities is not exactly easy."
He turns back to the crowd with an almost apologetic smile. “I'm sorry you don't have more time to make this decision. We’ll meet again.”
Opening a third portal with the wave of her arm, Elizabeth, who has not spoken a word, gives the group a wink and leaves with Oliver. Their portal closes behind them, leaving everyone to begin making moves.
Now is the time to make serious choices. Two portals stand in the courtyard, one courtesy of Oliver and one of Elizabeth. The Free Cities and Thorne are enemies, Solvunn watching both to see where the cards end up falling. None trust one another, none work with one another beyond trade through middle-men in Solvunn. The clock is ticking.
Someone should probably get Jon out of that noose.
no subject
[She bites her lip, and her hand seeks his, finding that curiously incomplete left hand that she has not yet asked after, gripping it tight. She looks up to meet his eyes, and there is a warning glint of tears in her own.]
There was talk of riding south, to Nott. With sai Nadine. If I can't talk her out of it, I'm goin' with her.
If you don't find me in Solvunn, that's where I'll be. But I'll meet 'ee in the Horizon, whatever happens. We'll not be parted again, not truly. Bird and bear and hare and fish... it's still thee, Roland. It's always going to be thee, and if I can be with thee, I will, I swear I will. But my father's face is starin' me down on this. [Pat Delgado, who always kept his word, who died for his honesty - she knows well enough what he'd do, in her place.]
no subject
His distress is plain of his face, for once. For a long moment he stares down at her in silence, frantically seeking how to make her see-]
Do not trust Sai Nadine. Nor her companions. Be friendly, but do not take them into your confidence. And for sake of your father do not let them see you might distrust them. If they consider you a friend you may be safe.
[ His voice is as quiet as it can be given the chaos around them, but his words tumblr out as fast as he can manage them. He slips into the Meijis speech, ]
Flagg is the danger. Do not be alone with him. Guard yourself from him. Above all do not tell him 'ee knows me, for your father's sake. That'll put 'ee in greater danger than I can tell of.
[ Will this scare her? He wonders. He does not want her to panic. He wants her to put that cool logic to use. It had been Rhea who'd plotted against Susan, the Grapefruit had shown him that. Walter hadn't known of her then, had no interest in some girl child from the far reaches of the kingdom. ]
Ye've seen evil, Susan Delgado, aye so 'ee have. But this Flagg is a step beyond aught we found in Meijis. Are you sure your mind's made, knowing this? I've spoken true, by my watch and warrant I have.
no subject
[(The thought does come, with an uneasy prickle up her spine, of Nadine's domain; of a white city and playthings made of bleached bone. The thought does come that she may have put her faith in the wrong person. But she owes a debt there, and she'll square it, one way or the other.)]
[She squeezes his hand again, presses her lips tight. Her own voice is quiet, though not as rushed as his.]
I don't doubt it, Roland. I can see it in 'ee, that 'ee mean it.
And I'll be careful. Thee knows I can be careful. But... [Her tongue darts out, wets her lips for a moment; her voice lowers just a little more.] Roland, if he's past what we've known, ye'll want eyes on him. Him and sai Nadine both, most like, for whatever he is, she loves him. [And if anyone ought to know what a danger love can be, why, it's the two of them here.]
[She squeezes his hand, one last time, then lets it go.]
I'll meet 'ee in the Horizon, come what may, and there'll be time to talk then, time to argue if 'ee will. But I'm goin'. I'm sorry. I have to.
um no steve you are the wrong person
thinking back on that, he reaches quickly for his gunbelt. ]
Here. Take this. I pray you'll not need it, but for all his magic I'm certain he can be hit. You've much to learn still, so bide your time 'till you're sure the need is there and your shot will be good.
[ He gives her the whole belt, and reaches for his gunna to give her a handful of bullets. Not for the first time he misses his sandalwood pistols, reliable and well made compared to the decidedly average make of these. But they'll shoot true, if she's close enough. ]
[ And with that done, he knows they've both committed. This is the choice they've made-- that she's made and he's accepted. He can't help the pang at the thought of leaving her. For all that she's not quite as wide eyed and innocent as the girl he'd first met in Meijis, she's still so naive about the ways of the world. ]
You owe these people nothing, Susan. Nothing. I don't know of Eponine, but Nadine and her foul man-- [ He shakes his head. ] They may play the part of decent folken, but their goal is chaos.
[ Letting go of her is hard, and for a moment he finds he can't. He leans in instead, drawing her in and wrapping his arms around her. ]
You've the making of a gunslinger, Susan. A fine one. Trust yourself, and you'll come out of this in one piece.
ngl that confused me so much for a minute
[She swallows, hard, and nods; goes to strap the belt around her hips, and then reconsiders. She can't wear it that openly, not if she's to keep her head down. She'll have to figure something out, and fast, before she can find 'Ponine.]
She got me out of the cells. [It's quiet, a reminder.] I owe her that much, whatever she did it for. But I'll not let it blind me, I swear it.
[And maybe there's more she could say, but his arms are around her now, and she can only answer his embrace. He smells of dust and gunsmoke and age, and she wants to cry, and she has no right to tears, not when she's made her own choices. Still, there's a lump in her throat, and she clings to him tightly for a moment.]
I love thee, Roland. [It seems the most important thing to say, right now, over and above all the other things that rise to her tongue. It seems like, maybe, the only thing to say.] Be safe.