[ GM ORP ] Calm Before the Storm (EXIT PAGE 2)

[Zoobey]

A meeting.

Or so they had said, and so had the rumours spread. Their reserve, the Lost Clans lands were stagnating. Even with the supplies they had fastidiously collected, the weapons they had reforged, the crops and harvest they had grown and nurtured, it was not enough. Amityville, Halloween simply did not have enough Fear. Their lands, while an honest gesture at first, was nothing better than a cage for all of Halloween to see on display. Medea would not see her clan suffer such a fate, rotting to the core without even becoming a fragment of their former selves.

She waited, patient as always, though there was a slight change to her usual demeanor, a sort of agitation that had only congealed over time. Her usual nervous tap of the finger became a flicker of her wrist, the annoyed disjointed jangle of her bracelet punctuating ever half-breath she took as she waited.

And as the tent filled in, as the seats were occupied, the head priestess did something oddly peculiar: she walked past the procession, and then, hung a strange charm against the tent canvas. A charm with a simple sigil that warded away intruders.

Despite the strange action, the head priestess welcomed all the surviving Lost Clans arrivals warmly. "I hold this meeting today to seek counsel in you, all members of the lost clans. We are weak now, and our Fear, despite our best efforts, diminishes day by day. I am afraid I no longer can contain this problem to only myself, as at this rate, we will return back to Halloween and no longer exist. What I see now is your advice, each and every of you, on what your approach is to a solution."

She was not asking for advice: and those who knew her better might have been able to tell. She was asking for them to understand that they needed to take action now. There was only one way to obtain true Fear, after all.

OOC: DISCUSSION

- All Lost Clans members are assumed to be part of this discussion period - each of them can bring up IC points and suggestions as well as reflect on their thoughts/ ask questions/ etc. Everyone can ICly discuss this topic as they please before action is taken!

x_Nata_x

Grey Dragon

Random Artist

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

A meeting.

Or so they had said, and so the rumors spread. Their reserve, the Lost Clans lands were stagnating.



Needless to say, it was only natural for the four Protectors to be there, yet the dark concern in Invictus' eyes was not natural - nor was it natural for him to show such a thought so openly. But towards this people? He would willingly share his own concern - albeit, only visibly. There was much that could be said, yet the one thing that played the most calmly in his mind was that discussion with this father.

That one question: What would he do to save their clans? At that moment, it didn't seem like there was much they could do - which was a lie, truthfully. There was much their treaty for this land allotted for, but there was always still that small potential to fall back on the old way - but would their numbers be able to handle such an invasion at that time?


Would they have the time to try it later? It wasn't possible. They'd have to do it now, or not at all. He passed a look silently towards the other protectors, a small frown on his face. There had been one place where they four had failed to take over, in a sense and while it grew stronger, so did they. Perhaps it was time for them to revisit their original goal for that island.  

[revenant aria]

Medea's subtle agitation only made the situation more dire, Aisa's long black hair twirled around her wrist endlessly over and over, as Aisa sat there. Her hand dripped behind her neck, to loosen her webbed collar. Aisa brushed her hand against Medea's shoulder, walking to take a seat. She did not like the signs of weary exhaustion under Medea's eyes, much less, the concern in her eyes.

Time was running short for the horsemen clan.

It was a shame. With so many events that forced students and their death over and over, with the heavy addition of horsemen who required a constant stream of fear.. It was little wonder it was running low. Perhaps, if students simply didn't die all the time-- Mixed feelings and reason forced the creeping vengeful thoughts from rising, stepping on the lingering insanity. Part of her attention was redirected towards the charm on the doorway, her thoughts refusing to stay in one place. As much as Aisa pulled, they simply tugged to farther times.

"Gathering simply isn't an option .. but politics dictate we cannot use disposable methods of gathering either."

Aisa despised politics--- As much as she despised hunters.  

[Grey Dragon]

While Aisa might have despised politics, Cymbeline could not be bothered with them at all. It had been a long time since she had worried about such matters. A very long time, back before the island when she was merely one child with a destiny that seemed larger than herself. But now she couldn't be bothered with destiny either. It was with the same disregard that she attended the meeting, half distracted by the voices in her head. Whatever they murmured occasionally brought a smile to the Protector's face.

The smile turned in her sibling's direction. "Disposable... Surely the boundaries between politically disposable and practically disposable are not without their smudges~ That rift may be a breath's width apart and yet it has all the definition of a knife's edge. If you speak of spilling blood, you have no need to approach it in riddles, there are ways yet~"

And Cym was one to talk about riddles.

She toyed with one of her many gold bangles, trinkets, glittering lifeless pieces of what was once life and the dream of a hot desert sun. Staring into their shiny surface seemed to distract the former Heir, and she cocked her head as though listening to it's whispers.  

[Sadi Sidhe]

Pich slipped quietly into the tent. He doubted he would have anything to add to the discussion, but perhaps someone would need an errand run, or a refreshment? Either way, if he could help in even some small way he would be glad. And if he didn't... at least he wouldn't have to worry that he might have been able to do something, but hadn't been there to do it.

Politics, the gathering and rationing of fear, it was all above him. He knew his craft, had a soft spot for minipets, and was content with that. But even he could tell they were in trouble. The protectors all seemed... edgy. Unsettled. And that could not be good. So he would listen, and wait, and trust that in his peoples' will to continue, to survive despite the hunters and all they had done.  

[ramenli]

Soren stood off to one side, listening to the Priestess address the clansmen that were gathered. There was no actual question in his mind as to what was to be done. They needed to stay strong to protect their way of life, and even if he was lacking his own priestess to protect he would still do what he could to preserve the clans until he found one (or one found him). The Clans could be made strong again, even if they were now one clan, bound together.

Until that time he would obey orders, so long as they would not be destructive to the clan. He rather hoped that they would spell destruction though, it had been too long since he had gathered a human's fear. Briefly he thought of Astridr. Which type of fear would she have wanted first, the pure terror that radiated from a child or the deep-setted horror that could be worked from adults.

He wanted it all.  

[x_Nata_x]

It did not take a genius to know what Eris' approach would have been to any solution. Even now, sitting as she was with her clan, her newly-amber regard flicked to the other Protectors, and her gaze flamed with hostility. The corners of her Insanity-darkened eyes licked with the fire which did not burn her, veiling her thoughts and showing her true intentions to only those who could look upon her very soul. Any in the room could have seen she was itching to fight, as many of the remaining War Clan likely were as well, and take back what was rightfully theirs. It came as no surprise to any that Eris would burn everything in her path, either in the hopes of retaining their former glory or just for the sheer pleasure of watching the world burn, and enjoy every moment of it.

It was, however, only those who knew her well, only the three plus potentially Medea herself, that could read the inner turmoil racing tempestuously within the Protector of War. Insanity was doing terrible things to them all -- there was no denying that it touched every one of them, an itch in the back of their mind that turned into the raw raking of fingernails tearing flesh. For the once-heir of the Clan of War, every passing instance was another second burned off a fuse. Volatility had always been her weakness, the scale of calm and seductive tipped easily into unadulterated fury by the merest of emotions, but with each passing instant their FEAR diminished, so did her ability to quell the blaze which threatened to consume every thought in her head. So far, this had been kept close to the chest -- an outburst was not at all unheard of for her, and remained essentially unquestioned. The odd talk... well... Cymbeline had always been a little touched, was it really such a stretch for the already-moody War-Protector to make curious comments?

What they didn't understand was that it was only growing worse. The rebuilding of their home in this place so familiar yet so alien to them had done not at all to rebuild her crumbling soul. It was a prison, this new Lost Clans reservation. And it fed the fiery Insanity within her, fueling her almost compulsive need for revenge on the ones who took everything from them, working so concurrently with her own domain.

Letting her eyes fall on Invictus for a moment, Eris' expression didn't waver as she noted his frown but for the slightest hardening of her gaze. "Practically disposable is so much cleaner though. Metaphorically, of course," she offered after a moment, shifting her attention to Cymbeline with a slightly amused smile that did not reach her eyes. Her adoration for the other horsewoman was apparent, but beneath it, her blood still boiled with a restlessness. Focusing on none in particular, she continued with a slightly harder edge to her tone, as if her thoughts had turned a little sour. "Surely we have not fallen so far as to have lost the ability to dispose."  

[Ice Queen]

The plant haired horseman sat near the back, playing with one of the smaller local minipets that he had caught--well, perhaps playing was too gentle of a word. He was in the midst of an examination, and was planning to dissect it, were things to go on long enough. They were going to die, Fai thought apathetically. Lack of FEAR--well, he had already come to a similar conclusion, although not, perhaps, that straight-forwardly. Living in these lands, lacking the FEAR of their homelands, they were not nearly as strong as they once were. And he had already made arrangements to leave--perhaps he could go on his voyage before dying, and learn of these strange technologies...

A bittersweet voice whispered that it would be good to have something to tell his lover when he joined her in death. But he wasn't so foolish as to believe such a romantic ending. When he died he would return to the FEAR he came from, core shattered, nothing remaining of him except a simple energy source. But still, he thought, he could convince himself otherwise to make it easier.  

[Saliru]

The young green-eyed horsewoman took a spot about mid range to sit, ensuring with great diligence that she not only obtained a seat with an empty spot next to it - but she guarded that empty spot. Shooting any strange horsemen who seemed interested in the spot soft guttural snarls and dirty looks.

Lily was quite determined to keep that spot open and in her possession but her protests softened as Medea began to speak. At that point all eyes and ears were on her. Even if Lily didn't comprehend the subtleties Medea alluded to she still found herself quite concerned; Despite everything they were all going to die?
 

[Zoobey]

The decision then, had already been made. It was for a second, almost nostalgic, reminiscent of their old times, when they had had the name The Four Clans, their empire, their lands and homes, when they had been brought together to listen to their elders speak, reclaim territory and Fear, and plow on fearlessly. Now, there were simply skeletons.

Medea waited for all those interested to speak their peace, nodding to the appointed Protectors. "We must press forward, time will not stop for us. Do not forget, we are not them. They showed us mercy, they were generous, but they cannot even begin to fathom who we are, what we truly are. We are the Lost Clans, not Halloween; not just citizens willing to sit on their hands, cultivating Fear until we die: and we will take action and we do so to survive."

She gestured towards the four heirs, beckoning them closer. The clan's protectors, guardians and warriors on the brink of Insanity: power clouding judgement, wild and unpredictable. The remains of tacticians, generals, would-be kings. Medea put one hand on Aisa in support and stood taller: like them all she yearned and hurt. Hurt from waiting, poisonous and slow, hurt from simply forgetting. "We are still the Four Clans, those who made Humans, Hunters bow down and respect us. Halloween itself feared our name, both worlds were at the tip of our fingertips, but it is not because of misfortune that we fell. No, it is clear to me now, as all paths lead to the same end. We fell, so we could rise stronger than before, this is our test not for strength but spirit. We fight to be who we are but no, not mindlessly. Everything has a purpose, everything has a meaning. Everything was orchestrated to give us opportunities, to let us learn from our mistakes and continue down the path until our final moment. We have toppled empires in decades, centuries, we have claimed cities, lands and resources, and now is not the time to stop, not yet: this, this fake land around you, this borrowed territory is merely the calm before the storm, before our rising. I will consult Trance tonight and choose carefully where to make our appearance, to begin what should rightfully be our empire. Remember your rightful place amongst us, the Lost Clans, remember that there is nothing we fear in our element. Now, my children, will we walk together?"

The word was not demeaning: Medea was high priestess; it was assumed she knew just a little more, saw just a little further. She neatly filled the void in power now, but more so, had no reason not to merit their rigid ways of tradition and respect. They were her children because she fought for them.

x_Nata_x

Random Artist

demon_pachabel

Grey Dragon

 

[Syusaki]

For once, the jabbering jay was mute when she entered the tent. Her gaze rested upon Eris for a fleeting second before Jay settled into a seat near the back. Her brightly colored feathers rustled as she tucked in her wings. Jay had heard the rumors. Whether or not they were real, they at least had a touch of truth to it. The clans were not as strong as they had once been. Far from it, actually. Lips pressed together into a thin line while she absentmindedly smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt. The warrior stole another glance at the Protector of War. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she took in the sight. It was reassuring to see her there at last.

Then Medea’s greeting broke Jay’s thoughts. She turned toward the head priestess with attentive eyes and ears. Advice? Surely, there was only one thing the Clans could do, right? The Protectors seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Jay. She smiled, idly swaying in her seat. The warrior excitedly stared at Eris. “I agree!” Then the bluejay zipped her lips shut while her fingers anxiously tapped against the edge of her chair. She giggled softly at the head priestess. “Yes yes yes. Let’s walk together.”

The jay leaned forward, her eyes wide with anticipation. “I look forward to hearing about your Trance very very much.”  

[demon_pachabel]

Invictus remained standing tall, his posture did not buckle in the least, and as those present began to air their own opinions, his expression began to resteel back into the more familiar face of conquest - unyielding, unforgiving, unread. Eris, Aisa, Cymbeline - they had all stood together once, and it was time for them to continue standing together.

It seemed Medea was of the same opinion as well, and it was time for them, as a clan, to begin their movements towards what would be their rebirth - albeit with less Insanity ridden phoenixes involved. No, they would not stay in this place forever - they were meant to flourish, and it would be time to move. To reinstate their place in the powers of the world.

Yes, it was time to walk. No, not walk...

Trample. They would be like a stampede, crushing all in their path. That would suit their old ways - their only ways, actually - rather well. He'd take that in any moment.  

[Blade Kuroda]

Through the duration of this meeting, Tseng was quiet. He had nothing to add to what was being discussed. Quite frankly, he liked the idea of returning to their former glory. In a sense, he wasn't really sure what else they could be if not the horsemen.

This was their inherent purpose right?

And if that were the case, perhaps becoming a hero among his people would mean something even more.  

[Seussi]

Shaheen had also situated herself somewhere near the back of the tent, her lips pursed in a firm line as she listened to what had to be said. She was having trouble focusing, however, her mind wandering towards dark thoughts of hopelessness that was very uncharacteristic to her. This land was killing them, slowly they were becoming weaker and before long they would be just as dead as all of their kin. They needed to replenish their fear, and attempt to regain the power that they had lost. She was all for this, ready to go at the drop of a hat. She would more then willingly throw herself on the front lines of battle, and all she wanted, all she needed was the sweet taste of victory on her tongue when all was said and done.