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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.
[Cell 1 Roommates Tearful Reunion]
She can be about two and a half of those things right now.
She's not sure what Oliver's plan is, but after walking through the portal, she at least understands the 'how'.
So Relena ventures out, slowly making her way through the passages in a crouched position, relying on the walls she's hugging to keep upright though she falls half into a crawl through most of her journey. It's feels like forever and she's still completely exhausted, but she's determined to get herself there before she loses all energy again. She only has 'soon' to work with here, so she's hoping that's at least enough time to get them on board with what's about to happen... whatever that might be.
She only lets herself give out when she's got her shoulder against a familiar cell. She sits on the ground and reaches a hand through, waving it around. She speaks in a harsh whisper.
"Himeka, Estinien. You have to get ready. Now. And quietly."
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“That's not necessary,” he says in nervous irritation when they grab his arms to tie him. He doesn't pull away, but they still shove him hard against the wall, one boot jamming against the back of his knee to keep him there as they bind his arms. There's been an anger in the way the guards have treated him, every day since he was brought down here. It feels at fever pitch now. When the eye in the back of his neck opens to stare at the guard tying him, the man hits the back of his head hard enough that his forehead bounces off the stone.
“Stop that shit.”
Jon doesn't answer, but the eye doesn't close.
He's taken out of the dungeon then, hustled through corridors of the castle, and shoved onto a bench in another small room. This one has a window, at least, but the view is grim. Jon stares out the window at the gallows, at the man rigging a noose from it.
He's afraid.
He's tired of waiting.
The two feelings don't lie well together and he hates it, the stomach-twisting nausea of it. It reminds him of the Distortion. And the Unknowing.
He tries again to reach the Horizon, not to escape but to escape the moment, but it remains out of his reach. He can't reach anything he might describe as a meditative state. He's not sure he ever has in his life.
By the time he's pulled up off the bench to come outside, every eye is open, and his view of the courtyard is fractured and confusing. He fixes three eyes on Ambrose when they meet at the foot of the new-cut wooden steps, and just nods. They have nothing to say to each other. The guard on his left – the same one from before – grabs the back of his collar to escort him up those stair. Jon makes the mistake of looking up, at the gallows looming above him. The noose is black against the bright blue sky.
He doesn't intend to look out at the assemblage either, but his eyes aren't giving him the option. It's the eyes on his shoulder, his ankles, that rove over those gathered, and he follows their gaze in surprise. Not enough people. That isn't enough people.
Jon's shoulders slump in relief when he realizes what's missing; the prisoners aren't here. Martin isn't here. But he spots Coraline just as the guards position him on the trapdoor. He meets her eyes, taking a shallow breath. All he can give her is a look of wry apology, and then he looks away again as they put the noose over his head.
When Ambrose speaks, Jon looks aside at him, his lips pressing thin. Until 'intention of lethal harm,' when his expression sharpens with offense. “You're a liar, Ambrose,” he snaps, voice raised above the High Mage's final words.
As last words go, maybe he can live with those.
And may be he won't have to.
Glaring at Ambrose, waiting for the ground to drop from underneath him, it takes Jon a moment to realize he's not just pausing for effect. A moment for the commotion below the gallows to penetrate.
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slightly later
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cw: Homelander
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holding the exit
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--do whatever is happening right now as magic rushes down the corridor like snow in an avalanche. The suddenness has the dhampir on his feet, curiosity winning out over every other possible concern. This isn't Hector's plan, he can say that much with certainty, but the doors are open. A portal glows at the end.
Does he trust the man standing in the portal? Absolutely not. Does he go through regardless? Yes.
He listens quietly at the explanation, eyes everywhere at once. Considering the scene, considering those forced to watch, all of it. (She was burnt, the back of his mind supplies. It looked different than this.)
He knows what the choice is to be. Instead, he takes a look around to make sure no eyes are on him. Then he takes a few steps forward.
There is a white wolf standing where he was just a few moments before.
The wolf huffs a sigh of relief, takes a few more steps forward, and is Alucard again.] I suppose that is the other issue addressed.
[He knows what choice to make, and when he thinks no one is looking, Alucard's shape changes. His is a wolf. He is a fluttering of bats. He is a person again, and this is all in service of ensuring that things work as they should and being able to address it if they aren't. Alucard moves left, and in a blink of an eye, is a hundred feet further away.
Yes. That's as it should be.]
II. Closed to Hector
[The portal to the Free Cities. It isn't a hard choice - there's no promise Thorne won't pursue any and all who have escaped through obvious or more subtle means. So best to hide among real enemies rather than neutral ones, get bearings, and proceed.
But there is a sour note to all of it, and as much as Alucard hates to admit it, he can imagine someone else is tasting that same note. Hector's easy enough to find, at least.]
I suppose we were both outclassed for dramatics.
III. Wildcard Whatever you want or hit me up on the plotting post
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2. And into the fire
2
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Julie Lawry | The Wheel of Fortune
[ Since being removed from solitary, Julie has been alone in a cell -- the guards had realized that she most likely could not be trusted to be with anyone else. But she could see and hear others from her new cell, so she hadn't had another breakdown. She does look a bit worse for the wear, with scabbed over scratch marks on her face. Her broken right middle finger is tied to the ring finger in a makeshift splint, created from a strip of her tunic that she'd torn off in solitary. They also don't take care of the prisoners in any way, so general grime has built up on her from lack of showers. But she's otherwise okay.
While in another world, she might have used the cells unlocking as an opportunity to hunt Eponine down again, this time it's far more important to actually try and understand what's happening. There's a portal, and a man even more otherworldly than Flagg invites them through, and she doesn't hesitate to follow him. After all, what was the alternative? Stay locked up?
In the crowd of prisoners, she looks for Flagg, for others that she hadn't completely alienated by mauling Eponine, but really, her focus is on this mysterious man. ]
02 | But Not Housebroken
[ The man and woman depart, and Julie looks around in the crowd of the still-animate guests. She doesn't give a shit about the man in the noose, not when she needs to get the hell out of dodge and make sure that at least Lloyd comes with her.
She needs him. He knows his way around.
But she thinks she should put together a game plan, and she wants to bounce her ideas off of people that she thinks might have something worthwhile to say. So, aside from her Vegas family, she looks for those that she can even marginally recognize, asking them with a note of confusion: ]
So whaddya think?
03 | Wildcard
[ Anything you want, or contact me at
02
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For Lloyd and Nadine
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Nadine had little interest in a public execution, but no strong opposition to what's happening. She has no ill thoughts about Jon, but she barely knows him and he brought on this on himself.
But when the portals open and time stop she snaps to attention. This is it. The opportunity she and those from her world have been waiting for. The plan has been set even if they hadn't known just how they'd get away from the castle or when, but there's no debate or choice for Nadine to make.
What she does have to do is check in with the few people she considers friends before fleeing the castle with her group. Amos, of course, despite his mood the last time they'd spoken. Homelander, Eponine, Susan... There isn't much time, but there's time enough for a few words. That's all she needs.
She approaches each with a hesitant hand on the arm or a soft 'hey...', very aware of how quick she needs to be.
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Estinien Wyrmblood | FFXIV |
II➔ Reasoning
III➔ Parting Remarks (One Thread Only)
II, leading into CELL 1 REUNION
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Parting Remarks
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Louis | Beastars | Death
And then all that happened. Louis glances at the portals, then the frozen natives, then the people swarming the gallows to save their friend... and he curses under his breath. Staying here will only lead to being blamed, and possibly imprisoned for all this.
He immediately moves to the closest native with a backpack--a man clearly due to go to work or class after the execution--and pulls it off of him before checking the contents.
"We're not likely to have as much hospitality as we've had here," Louis says as he quickly rifles through its contents, dropping anything he sees as useless at the native's feet. "Find any essentials quickly. The High Mage can compensate the locals for anything we take."
He pulls a pack of gum from the bag. "Bubblegum. If you want it, catch." He throws the gum at the nearest person, barely looking at them as he calculates what he needs and how much time it'd take to rush into the castle and grab books or clothing.
Majima Goro | Yakuza / Ryu Ga Gotoku | The Hanged Man
II. Wildcard
II
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[ closed ] for yennefer.
They stumble through into the yard. He keeps a grip on Ciri, some part of him afraid of losing her in the rush as he searches for Jaskier. Follows the beat of Jaskier's heart and his scent that now comes through clearer than ever. (As overwhelming as it all is, he's missed being himself.) None of this is expected or planned for; a million thoughts collide in his head. Whoever their so-called saviors are, it's a bit too convenient. Isn't it? Still. He can't risk staying here. With Ciri involved, that's out of the question. It isn't long before he makes a decision, one that's pieced together too hastily, with too little understood. He doesn't like this. He doesn't fucking like any of it. But it's all they have, and he knows, deep down, that states that claim neutrality can be swayed. Can be bought. In all likelihood may not welcome unwanted strangers falling into their land, disrupting the careful peace they've cultivated. At least in the Free Cities, there's information to be leveraged. And any place that fears this kind of power as much as Thorne craves it—it can't be left unwatched where Ciri is concerned.
Somewhere along the way, he senses Yen has made a different choice. When she moves to speak to Cirilla in private, that only confirms it. But it is not until both Jaskier and Ciri have stepped through, when his gaze locks with hers, that it dawns on him she hasn't any intention of leaving at all. The realization tugs fiercely on his heart. Because he gets it. He does. It's a logical decision, to remain embedded with those who might prove a threat, and there's no one better to rise within Thorne's court than Yennefer. He doesn't give a shit about logic, is the thing. Or that she's undoubtedly still pissed at him over—everything. He just—
He isn't thinking, really, when he closes the distance between them and lifts his hand to brush a thumb right under her jaw, where a bruise lingered only moments ago. (Before Jaskier of all people solved that.) ]
Come with us. [ It comes out softly. Like he already knows he won't change her mind. Maybe that's why he doesn't give a reason. Why he doesn't try to convince her that it's too dangerous, that she can't know they'll hear her out instead of ridding of the remaining arrivals altogether. He hardly knows what waits for them on the other side, either. There's equal chance they'll only be branded by association with Thorne and arrested anew. It is not, in the end, about what the right choice is. None of this sits right, none of this feels right, these doors swinging wide open out of nowhere, time conveniently frozen for them to step through without trouble. It's simply that he doesn't want to leave her behind. ]
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Relena Peacecraft | Gundam Wing | Death
Horizon Wildcard
(open to threadjacking)
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estinien: i guess this is happening now
:)
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Nero | Drakengard/Drag-on Dragoon | Devil
Fucking dammit.
Nero wasn't sure what sort of expression that he should wear watching Jon being escorted up to be hung. Rather than be horrified or distressed, he directed his gaze down to his arms that were weighed down by the weight of clothes that he bought. I had a whole thing set up and now it's ruined. I guess I can give these outfits after the execution… but I really wanted them to wear something nice while they knew one of their own was dying up here.
The elf had heard about Jon's execution and thought it would be hilarious to acquire some nice clothes for the prisoners to wear during that day. It's a special occasion and deserved special treatment. However, he did not realize a few things. First, the prisoners would not be allowed to watch with the welcomed guests. Second, the guards wouldn't let Nero bring the clothes down before the execution could get under way.
And third … I wonder if Jon's regretting not being willing to let his fellow prisoner die so that he could escape.
He fixed his gaze on the man, ignoring the weight of clothes in his arms. This is just as you wanted it. No one is going to die but you. Aren't you happy? Though, Nero supposes not. He also thinks that Ambrose chose a real bitch way to kill someone publicly. Last public execution I was at, the people were burned at the stake. We're hanging him for having attacked you? These people really lack teeth.
As he critiques the manner of death, he adds in wondering how he's going to apologize to Martin for what happened.
In short, Nero was relatively checked out during the actual execution. However, he abruptly pays attention as soon as the portals open. Huh? The elf almost wants to laugh. It seems like the gods really did take mercy on Jon's soul – and the souls of the other prisoners. He starts to laugh at what unfolds next; his laughter bright and filled with merriment rather than vicious hysterics. Oh, that's really funny! Funnier than anything I could have come up with. I'm a little sad to be outdone!
"Looks like it's time to leave." He announces the obvious to no one in particular.
To prisoners, he makes a gesture – lifting his arms up slightly so that they can acknowledge the pile of clothes that he happens to be toting around. Given everything that is going on, he can understand that they might be a little too shaken up to realize what he has. "Hey, parting gift from a once welcomed guest of Thorne."
With other welcomed guests, he offers a small wave to them. "Good luck." The elf seems like he honestly means the sentiment, at the very least. Of course, what he means by the sentiment, he doesn't really have the time to get into with too many folk. There's only so much time and he has to figure out where he's going.
Thorne invited the right person to help them, but… they lack real conviction in what they want to accomplish. A pity. Not everyone can or will be super down for mass murder, Nero.
ii. One promise kept. [ closed to Eponine ]
"Looks like you're free."
The elf offers that as his only greeting to the young woman. He had rid himself of most of the clothes that he was carrying – either by giving them as parting gifts or just throwing them on the ground so they can be someone else's problem.
"It's a real shame that you weren't able to accomplish what you wanted, but there's always next time." Nero, of course, is referring to the plan that the two of them concocted to murder "Miss Julie." Though, he isn't sure if Eponine is going to have a "next time" when it comes to sorting things out with her ex-prisoner-mate.
"Anyway, here you go." He holds out to her a red silk dress. His smile is unpleasant to look upon. "A promise is a promise."
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Jordan Hennessy | The Dreamer Trilogy | Moon
She hadn't been especially keen on witnessing an execution, though there was a mad part of her that had been curious. She'd never seen a hanging before. Maybe the guy deserved it. Or maybe she'd be next. In either case, it's not something she wants to see badly enough to hang around, not when there's an option that doesn't involve going back behind bars.
It takes her all of thirty seconds to come to a decision.
"Right, I'm sold. Anyone else interested in fucking off to the Free Cities?"
She doesn't especially care if she's the only one, but it's her opinion that anyone with a functioning brain cell would get as far away as possible from the absolute shitshow that's about to go down here when time unfreezes.
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yennefer of vengerberg { the witcher } chariot
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let's have a meeting -- round two, haha
hell yeah hell yeah HELL YEAH
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Hector | Castlevania | The Magician
It's fortuitous, but Hector's going to take a second to just... stare at the magical gateways.]
Well, fuck.
[He listens to the explanations the mages offer. Hector knows which faction makes the most sense to him (which, honestly, is Thorne, but they burned their bridges by imprisoning half of the people they summoned), and he knows which way he's going to end up going (the place Alucard is retreating to), and they don't match up. It's fine.
He sighs, checks to make sure his frog familiar is still safely in his pocket, then steps towards the gate for the Free Cities.]
Guess I'll be off, then. Anyone else coming this way?
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Emet-Selch | Final Fantasy XIV | Emperor
(Though it is not as if he hasn't been more than aware of the existence of the prisons, and that alone has been enough to suggest that things are not necessarily as welcoming as they might seem.)
He is not, however, particularly thrilled about having been all but ordered to attend. True, it makes sense enough if they mean to make a spectacle of it, but the orders still chafe. Not least of all because it's something he might have gladly done on his own - if only for the sake of observation. Still, he says nothing of his opinions. Merely waits patiently and observes, noting the various tensions and emotions that are running through the courtyard, as if he's simply waiting to see what sort of chaos might unfold in the aftermath.
(And he is. It may not be a chaos of his own making, but it is something he can potentially use none the less.)
The sudden surge of magic as time freezes catches him by surprise, and for a moment he's simply left... blinking. But for all that the potential for chaos has shifted, this is no less interesting. Merely different, and after a moment he finally manages to find his voice again.
"Well. This is certainly... unexpected."
for Some
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Abigail Hobbs | Hannibal | The Hanged Man
She doesn't consider going through either portal even for a second, not trusting the magic of this world or the two strangers who'd used it, certain that stepping through will only lead her into greater trouble. No, the only person she can trust here is herself, so it's herself she'll rely on.
Taking a last look back at the chaos frozen in the courtyard, she turns and runs as fast as she can and as far as she can. She has to stop a few times to catch her breath, hiding as best as she can in case the guards and mages suddenly begin to move again and spot her, and once she trips over her own feet as she's not used to moving about so much after her weeks in prison. But eventually she's out of Thorne and heading in no particular direction, not having planned anything more than getting away.
sam wilson | mcu | justice.
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yard yeehaw
sparkles at
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for Susan Delgado
He's cursing himself now for not keeping track of Susan or Eddie. Eddie had been in the dungeons, but Susan-- where was she in the rush of people heading to and fro, disappearing into the portals that would take them gods knew where. She was his priority. He was Eddie's dihn, say true, but Eddie was a man grown. Susan, for all the wisdom and cunning she had, was still a child.
All at once he spots a head of golden hair in the crowd. He recognises her at a glance, as he always will. ]
Susan! Susan Delgado! To me!
[ His voice is strong and clear, cutting across the noise around them. He waits to meet her eye, to be sure she has heard and seen him, then begins to move towards her. ]
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After about ten seconds of thinking, she starts to pace, but the line she's pacing is very, very small. She is entirely no use at hiding her feelings at this stage.
Thirty seconds into that, she finally casts a glance out to place her cavalier, and once she's sure she has Gideon's attention (and you can feel free to catch her before that point!) she says, "Reclusive and claims neutrality sounds like a much better idea than some to me, but I'm guessing it's not your ideal?"
idk how this got so long.
feelings!
feelings <3
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