Damycles
Phoe
Alby47
Fetzen
Anarion"It would slash a net, and most likely tunnel under a pit trap, or stakes." He thinks about what he would do if the roles were reversed, how he'd press his advantages. "It would come up to attack me. If I start shooting it from a tree branch, it would be vulnerable while it is trying to climb for me, or trying to pull the tree down. That would be our opportunity. As long as it sees me, it will attack. And as long as it comes from below, to avoid my arrows, it will be blind to a trap on the surface."
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[11: I get away Quickly without Harm, and Quietly without drawing attention]
This isn't the first time this has happened to Lucien. Well, not specifically this. But if you shimmy up enough pipes, eventually one's going to detach from the fifth floor while you're along for the ride. The trick, he repeats now, is to let yourself fall and catch yourself.
Simple physics. You're climbing up, you hold the chain above you and you grip it below you between shin and calf. You flip - your hands are reaching over you. If you hold the chain loosely with your hands and let go with your legs, then your bottom half falls faster than your top half. You flip, and catch the chain with your legs again.
Well. Not exactly the same way. This time he loops it so it coils over his right thigh, catching it with his ankle so he slides down like a zipper. Last time he did this was a long red silk curtain, which had much less of a problem with friction, but that would be more of an issue if he needed to apply more brakes. Right now he's trying to outpace a falling elevator and only slow himself just enough not to break both his legs when he lands.
Now, was the burlesque kick with the other leg strictly necessary? For practical purposes it means he's converted some of his downward motion into horizontal, so he can swing for a landing. The other part of it is muscle memory. Where, exactly, do you think one learns to do flips on long poles and twirl down curtains?
Lucien gets to comparative safety, and he does it fabulously.
When the elevator hits the bottom-top, Lucien bows for the crash of the cymbals.
What fresh hell awaits him now, then? His heart's pounding, and damned if he can't stop smiling.
What a day!
This isn't the first time this has happened to Lucien. Well, not specifically this. But if you shimmy up enough pipes, eventually one's going to detach from the fifth floor while you're along for the ride. The trick, he repeats now, is to let yourself fall and catch yourself.
Simple physics. You're climbing up, you hold the chain above you and you grip it below you between shin and calf. You flip - your hands are reaching over you. If you hold the chain loosely with your hands and let go with your legs, then your bottom half falls faster than your top half. You flip, and catch the chain with your legs again.
Well. Not exactly the same way. This time he loops it so it coils over his right thigh, catching it with his ankle so he slides down like a zipper. Last time he did this was a long red silk curtain, which had much less of a problem with friction, but that would be more of an issue if he needed to apply more brakes. Right now he's trying to outpace a falling elevator and only slow himself just enough not to break both his legs when he lands.
Now, was the burlesque kick with the other leg strictly necessary? For practical purposes it means he's converted some of his downward motion into horizontal, so he can swing for a landing. The other part of it is muscle memory. Where, exactly, do you think one learns to do flips on long poles and twirl down curtains?
Lucien gets to comparative safety, and he does it fabulously.
When the elevator hits the bottom-top, Lucien bows for the crash of the cymbals.
What fresh hell awaits him now, then? His heart's pounding, and damned if he can't stop smiling.
What a day!
"I fear if I shoot it, it might flee where we can not follow." Tristan lets the string back slowly, still watching the badger as the peripheral world swims back into attention. "This is not what I would like it to be. I had hoped we could lead it home, and it would do no further harm. But I think it is offended by our presence here. If we wound it and it flees, it will be in great pain, and it will most likely exact a greater pain in retribution after some time. If we are to be about this ugly business, let it be decisive."
"We need the wind of surprise at our back to carry us. In that I see two options: I attack it with such fury it faces us. Or we trap it, and execute it. The second seems more sensible but... there is less virtue in it." Read: Killing something in a trap would make Tristan sad. "We may be at the limit of what can be gained from stalking. I see no further advantage we could gain, can think of no more favourable terrain to face it in."
The arrow is still nocked and steady, the owner is under more tension than the bow. Tristan will be indecisive until it is time to act. He does not want to be the one to call the hour.
What weighs on his mind is that he does not want Nin to get hurt in a fight, but he does not want to insult Nin by voicing this. He holds Nin in great respect, and would cut out his tongue than risk implying otherwise. It is only fair they get to decide the level of acceptable risk.
"We need the wind of surprise at our back to carry us. In that I see two options: I attack it with such fury it faces us. Or we trap it, and execute it. The second seems more sensible but... there is less virtue in it." Read: Killing something in a trap would make Tristan sad. "We may be at the limit of what can be gained from stalking. I see no further advantage we could gain, can think of no more favourable terrain to face it in."
The arrow is still nocked and steady, the owner is under more tension than the bow. Tristan will be indecisive until it is time to act. He does not want to be the one to call the hour.
What weighs on his mind is that he does not want Nin to get hurt in a fight, but he does not want to insult Nin by voicing this. He holds Nin in great respect, and would cut out his tongue than risk implying otherwise. It is only fair they get to decide the level of acceptable risk.
Tristan is pretty relieved that he didn't bring his polearm, after all. A long day would have been made longer for it. Now he can take his bow in both hands. He nocks an arrow and takes aim at the badger.
He has no killing intent, and the arrow will not fly. But he has been taught to calm his mind while firing and so stillness comes most naturally to him while he is aiming. The two are as practiced as each other now, and doing one leads most naturally to doing the other. When he draws, everything disappears but for him and the target. The field is gone - he is close enough to reach out and touch it.
[2d6+1=9 - I ask one:
I think the most useful question to ask here is:
What would this thing make the world into, if it only could?]
He has no killing intent, and the arrow will not fly. But he has been taught to calm his mind while firing and so stillness comes most naturally to him while he is aiming. The two are as practiced as each other now, and doing one leads most naturally to doing the other. When he draws, everything disappears but for him and the target. The field is gone - he is close enough to reach out and touch it.
[2d6+1=9 - I ask one:
I think the most useful question to ask here is:
What would this thing make the world into, if it only could?]
Tristan agrees with Nin's case and defers to their expertise and judgement. However we find the thing, now, will be done without dissent.
I'll also leave it up to Nin's judgement whether Tristan takes his polearm or not: It's big, cumbersome, and it shouldn't be needed for an exploratory mission. He'll have his much lighter knife and bow either way. It's Nin's decision on whether they are planning for a fight, or planning to avoid it.
I'll also leave it up to Nin's judgement whether Tristan takes his polearm or not: It's big, cumbersome, and it shouldn't be needed for an exploratory mission. He'll have his much lighter knife and bow either way. It's Nin's decision on whether they are planning for a fight, or planning to avoid it.
[Roll: 8: I get away quietly, drawing no attention.]
Being stealthy is hard with tracking animals and already being spotted. He'll need one hell of a distraction. He-
Lucien checks his pockets for the sticks of owl jerky he has on him, similar to what that ratter mongrel was snuffling. He crumbles them in his hands to meaty confetti, the tearing making them fragrant. It'd be silly to assume that just because the hunter is a cannibal their pets are too... but with owls, it's a sure bet.
He throws the peppery chaff over his cover, catching the owls attention as it hails down on the cannibal hunter. The owls track the meat as it flies, making the air heavy with a gamey smell, and scatters over their owner.
The hunter is distracted. The owls are well-trained enough not to attack him, but they haven't figured out it's the jerky the owls are stalking towards now, not them. The distinction might not even matter, since they're covered in it. Lucien's the lesser threat, left ignored as the handler gets the owls back under control before getting eaten. The owls have lost Lucien's scent as they're sent snuffling towards their handler...
Lucien keeps low and quick for the elevator shaft, socked feet muffling his steps on the wrought iron rungs of the ladder he takes up the shaft.
Being stealthy is hard with tracking animals and already being spotted. He'll need one hell of a distraction. He-
Lucien checks his pockets for the sticks of owl jerky he has on him, similar to what that ratter mongrel was snuffling. He crumbles them in his hands to meaty confetti, the tearing making them fragrant. It'd be silly to assume that just because the hunter is a cannibal their pets are too... but with owls, it's a sure bet.
He throws the peppery chaff over his cover, catching the owls attention as it hails down on the cannibal hunter. The owls track the meat as it flies, making the air heavy with a gamey smell, and scatters over their owner.
The hunter is distracted. The owls are well-trained enough not to attack him, but they haven't figured out it's the jerky the owls are stalking towards now, not them. The distinction might not even matter, since they're covered in it. Lucien's the lesser threat, left ignored as the handler gets the owls back under control before getting eaten. The owls have lost Lucien's scent as they're sent snuffling towards their handler...
Lucien keeps low and quick for the elevator shaft, socked feet muffling his steps on the wrought iron rungs of the ladder he takes up the shaft.
Tristan nods. "That makes sense. My fear is that if we meet it before we understand the problem, it will not let us observe it, ending in bloodshed. I had thought - if it is a place it cannot go back to, it is a place we cannot find by following it. We could look for where it cannot be, but could have been? Perhaps where a new mineshaft has been cut? Or a dam has formed in an inconvenient place?"
To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.
To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.
Tristan thinks about it. "I think so. The land had something to say about it, anyway. We shared beer, and a large beetle crawled from the dirt and scattered the smaller bugs nearby. I think that means we shouldn't look for where the thing is now, but track it to where it has come from. Another interpretation I made is that it might mean we need to defend ourselves better than the surface bugs did, but I think it less likely."
He massages the muscles in his hands as he thinks. "What do you suggest? I can only find where a thing has been, I have never had to find where a thing is from. Though," he goes a little red in the face as he realizes how it sounds, then steels himself to say it anyway, "If we do find it, we could try asking?"
He massages the muscles in his hands as he thinks. "What do you suggest? I can only find where a thing has been, I have never had to find where a thing is from. Though," he goes a little red in the face as he realizes how it sounds, then steels himself to say it anyway, "If we do find it, we could try asking?"
"Thank you." Tristan bows his head. He takes a fallen leaf and makes a larger shade for the scattered pillbugs with it. "Thank you too, little ones. Sometimes the message takes a toll on its messenger."
He stays until he's finished his beer. He is in a communion with the woods here, not a transaction. Leaving as soon as you have what you want is disrespectful. It's rude. So he savours his beer and thinks for a while. Listens, and breathes. He collects the cups, and bows his head again when it's time to leave.
Then he's off like a shot back to Nin, a thoughtful grimace. This has all the hallmarks of a Sign that'll be more obvious in retrospect.
He considers the common themes. Something large being driven from its home, trying to move into someone else's? Conflict brought by displacement... The solution might not be bloodshed, then. Find where the threat came from, and learn why it can't go home. Or maybe just put up more of a fight than the pillbugs did.
Nin's still talking when he gets back. He'll wait for her to finish before he intrudes. If he's needed, she'll ask.
He stands away from the stall and bouncing on his feet instead, resisting the urge to do pushups. Or chinups. Or- He hasn't fired an arrow today! Is his knife sharp? When's the last time he stropped it? (Yesterday.) Could he light a fire right now, if he needed to? (Yes.) Does he know?! (No.)
He is waiting very patiently for Nin from a reasonable distance, so as not to bother her.
He stays until he's finished his beer. He is in a communion with the woods here, not a transaction. Leaving as soon as you have what you want is disrespectful. It's rude. So he savours his beer and thinks for a while. Listens, and breathes. He collects the cups, and bows his head again when it's time to leave.
Then he's off like a shot back to Nin, a thoughtful grimace. This has all the hallmarks of a Sign that'll be more obvious in retrospect.
He considers the common themes. Something large being driven from its home, trying to move into someone else's? Conflict brought by displacement... The solution might not be bloodshed, then. Find where the threat came from, and learn why it can't go home. Or maybe just put up more of a fight than the pillbugs did.
Nin's still talking when he gets back. He'll wait for her to finish before he intrudes. If he's needed, she'll ask.
He stands away from the stall and bouncing on his feet instead, resisting the urge to do pushups. Or chinups. Or- He hasn't fired an arrow today! Is his knife sharp? When's the last time he stropped it? (Yesterday.) Could he light a fire right now, if he needed to? (Yes.) Does he know?! (No.)
He is waiting very patiently for Nin from a reasonable distance, so as not to bother her.
Lucien grins. This isn't a dream, this is something far stranger.
Fascinating!
Now he's having fun. Let's assess the situation, shall we?
The archer isn't the Angel, and this market isn't a food court, but they have a sort of... thematic consistency don't they? Abandoned food stores, enemy with a deadly ranged attack and a death motif - but this one he trusts is a bit more real. Maybe he's not in the right place yet, but he's closer to it.
Mostly because this new presentation comes bearing train imagery, and he's aware of what the bloody things can do to your head. It explains a few things.
Fight or flight: Does he take this one, since it's not as scary as its last iteration as an Angel - or does he keep trying to run away? See how the world reacts?
He throws himself into half-decent cover and draws his revolver, considers it. Bloody useless thing. He buys time while he thinks - just says whatever's on his mind for a moment while he hunkers, hoping the archer thinks harder about what he's saying than he is.
"You have the nicest collection of bones I've seen in a dog's age, don't you, Chuck? Where'd you get all those? Me, I grow my own, but I've never thought about making a necklace out of 'em. Seems like it'd hurt. You're going to have to tell me where you got the idea. You got a tailor? I'm looking for a new one. Actually, Chuck - you don't mind if I call you Chuck, right? You just look like a Chuck to me - you know where I could get a new pair of good boots? I'm thinking waterproof this time, and you seem like you'd know!"
[Look Closely - 4+3+2=9: What is going on here/What do my senses tell me, What will happen if I Get Away again, What in this environment could help or hurt me? I find one of these out the hard way. (Frankly, I deserve it)]
[Bad Feeling: What's the fastest and what's the safest way out of this?]
Fascinating!
Now he's having fun. Let's assess the situation, shall we?
The archer isn't the Angel, and this market isn't a food court, but they have a sort of... thematic consistency don't they? Abandoned food stores, enemy with a deadly ranged attack and a death motif - but this one he trusts is a bit more real. Maybe he's not in the right place yet, but he's closer to it.
Mostly because this new presentation comes bearing train imagery, and he's aware of what the bloody things can do to your head. It explains a few things.
Fight or flight: Does he take this one, since it's not as scary as its last iteration as an Angel - or does he keep trying to run away? See how the world reacts?
He throws himself into half-decent cover and draws his revolver, considers it. Bloody useless thing. He buys time while he thinks - just says whatever's on his mind for a moment while he hunkers, hoping the archer thinks harder about what he's saying than he is.
"You have the nicest collection of bones I've seen in a dog's age, don't you, Chuck? Where'd you get all those? Me, I grow my own, but I've never thought about making a necklace out of 'em. Seems like it'd hurt. You're going to have to tell me where you got the idea. You got a tailor? I'm looking for a new one. Actually, Chuck - you don't mind if I call you Chuck, right? You just look like a Chuck to me - you know where I could get a new pair of good boots? I'm thinking waterproof this time, and you seem like you'd know!"
[Look Closely - 4+3+2=9: What is going on here/What do my senses tell me, What will happen if I Get Away again, What in this environment could help or hurt me? I find one of these out the hard way. (Frankly, I deserve it)]
[Bad Feeling: What's the fastest and what's the safest way out of this?]
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