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 Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2022 8:06 pm
Sailor YmirThe tree froze and split. Water flowed, but the hands remained, and debris still clogged the way. Ymir lost his shoes to the current. He grabbed onto Surtur before either of them could be swept away. Ymir felt the tension in him, the sadness and the rage. He wouldn’t ask. He couldn’t. Not now. He’d seen enough to understand. The Chaos preyed on the darkness and heartache in them. Surtur had more than enough, whether he discussed it or not.
Whatever previously kept them all from one another ceased to have power over them. Ymir was not as confident in their odds as Perdita and Oberon seemed to be, but even he could see that, somehow, they’d almost done it.
Magic swept in on the wind. Ymir took a breath of it and felt some of his own strength return to him. Not much. Perhaps enough for one more attack, but it would have to do.
He threw sleet at the grasping hands, keeping one arm around Surtur so they wouldn’t lose one another again.Quote: Sailor Scout Attack: StrikeA target of Ymir’s choosing will find themselves struck by a barrage of small pellets of sleet for 30 seconds. These pellets cause a stinging sensation, and can result in thin, paper-cut-like injuries if the player chooses. Any pellets that find their way into the eyes can cause discomfort and temporary impairment. This attack can be used 3 times. (One more thanks to Ida’s magic!) --------------------------------------- Super Sailor PerditaHastily, Perdita followed Oberon’s instructions, putting the rope around her waist. She kept the branch she’d been using with her just in case, then made her way to the thickest of the debris. While Surtur and Ymir took aim at the shadow hands, Perdita found a good spot between some of the remaining logs. With her back braced against one, she planted her feet against another and pushed them apart.
Even with the storm and the threat of rushing water, Perdita wasn’t afraid. She knew Oberon would pull her to safety.
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2022 6:52 pm
Perdita’s conviction and faith in Oberon helped dislodge the fallen tree, and when it shifted, so too did some of the other debris. Ymir’s magic weakened everything further and made it much easier to shatter the frozen obstacles than it would have been to simply move them. Surtur’s brute strength kept the shadows at bay, and between the four of them, the dam was completely dislodged.
A large, broken trunk pushed into Perdita and nearly dragged her downstream, but Oberon’s grip was enough that he could safely pull her back.
Ymir and Surtur were nearer to the shadow hands, so when they started to stretch, started to grow, they were the ones most at risk for their wrath, but they tensed and a dark magic rippled and burst from inside of them with so much force that it felt like a cannonball hit the water. The wave pushed them almost entirely back to dry land just before the water rushed them away.
For a split second, the chaos surged again. It was overwhelming and felt like it might get a greater grip and recuperate, but whatever footing it almost had was lost. A shockwave rippled from multiple locations, simultaneously. Within seconds, or a moment at most, the chaos anomalies were destroyed. The heart of the chaos was destroyed.
The natural threats seemed to lessen, too. The winds carrying rocky debris in the clouds seemed to slow; though the debris hovered in the air, they were no longer projectiles. The gusts closer to the ground no longer stung. Thunder dulled and then diminished, and the lightning stopped almost immediately.
The rain fell harder, but only briefly. It was long enough to put out the fires sparked during the storm. The river was surging, but the current seemed more controlled, and already the water level was lowering.
And then, the rain turned to a trickle and then faded altogether. The monstrous clouds thinned, and then pockets of them began to clear, and then they faded, too. Alastor’s world had been covered in dark skies for centuries--and now, the sunrise. The sky was already lighting up with pinks and oranges, not unlike Earth, but the colors were so vibrant and pure.
There were no shadows to block it. Alastor was a fresh, renewed world, thanks to them.
The great oak in the courtyard by the Hall had nearly a thousand years to grow to its immense size, and its roots had buried themselves deep into the ground. They cradled the Core of the world, and it was the greatest beacon of their success.
The liquid gold light of the Core stretched up through the oak tree and gave it a magical glow and–more than that, little golden lights bobbed through the air around the Hall like fireflies. They ranged in size from marbles to golf balls, and coming into contact with them felt like passing through soothing, warm pockets of air. There were thousands, easily–like the world was celebrating their victory with them.
It was peaceful now, and the oppressive, hateful chaos that had been smothering them before was gone. Now, the only thing left to do was take a moment to catch their breath, and then meet up back at the Hall.
Quote: This is the last prompt based post for the roleplay! If you would like to continue writing you can, but this can also count for the close. All characters should head back to the Hall; the following roleplay is completely optional and players don’t have to post but their characters can be handwaved as attending. If your character would rather teleport home or otherwise leave Alastor without attending, please let me know! Thank you!
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