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Entry tags:
(closed.)
Who: Jaune Arc (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beaconed) and Pyrrha Nikos (metalist)
When: 11/3 IC.
Where: ViViD
What: She wants to go, but he won't let her go in alone.
Rating/Warning: Nothing (yet) — will update if necessary.
[ It had taken some doing to get them there, reasonable doubts plaguing unapologetic ambition. Pyrrha wouldn't deign to speak for Jaune but, as they materialise in a level - and it's misty, and painfully mysterious, laughing at them for the secrets it holds - she's nervous. It settles deep in her pulse, each thrum of her blood a palpable warning. It doesn't matter to her irrational heart that she can't die in here, she still cups a hand to the space over her heart, where an arrow had hit home, and tells herself: breathe.
Pyrrha does, and looks at Jaune, finding solace there. His eyes are still so clear, welcoming, even now. He's armed, Crocea Mors and whatever else he's picked up in his months in Cerealia - but she isn't, choosing instead improvisation and stretching the impoverished muscles of her Semblance. She'll never get it back to 100% if she doesn't use it at fifty percent, or sixty, or seventy.
That in itself, she doesn't (won't) consider a mistake. Selecting RANDOM / ??? at the level screen, on the other hand...
The mist clears, revealing a road that seems to stretch on for infinity. It's actually on a loop, with a fuzzy line less than a finger's width indicating where it ends and repeats, but Pyrrha's hardly video game savvy enough to notice such a thing. No, it's not the intricate little details that betray technology's imprecisions that get her attention. She knows this road, remembers it. She remembers the temperature dropping as a storm encroached, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, fear desperate enough to bend anyone's knees...
Above them, firm letters appear in the sky. A woman's unmoving voice reads them out, in case neither one of them look up:
LEVEL 1: ESCORT MISSION
The enemies? Why, endless clones of Mercury and Emerald, of course! At five minutes to, they'll encounter a single mini-boss — but we're not quite there, yet. The timer hasn't even started counting down.
The only sign of life on the road - aside from them, of course - is a faint sound, formless but unquestionable, as if the rustling of wind through the leaves and grass could make this sound.
It can't, though.
From just beyond their eyeline, hoofbeats sound out against the packed dirt of the road: a damning, baleful clip-clop.
Pyrrha exhales, and looks east, knowing exactly what she'll see.
She's determined to meet it head on. ]
beaconed) and Pyrrha Nikos (metalist)When: 11/3 IC.
Where: ViViD
What: She wants to go, but he won't let her go in alone.
Rating/Warning: Nothing (yet) — will update if necessary.
[ It had taken some doing to get them there, reasonable doubts plaguing unapologetic ambition. Pyrrha wouldn't deign to speak for Jaune but, as they materialise in a level - and it's misty, and painfully mysterious, laughing at them for the secrets it holds - she's nervous. It settles deep in her pulse, each thrum of her blood a palpable warning. It doesn't matter to her irrational heart that she can't die in here, she still cups a hand to the space over her heart, where an arrow had hit home, and tells herself: breathe.
Pyrrha does, and looks at Jaune, finding solace there. His eyes are still so clear, welcoming, even now. He's armed, Crocea Mors and whatever else he's picked up in his months in Cerealia - but she isn't, choosing instead improvisation and stretching the impoverished muscles of her Semblance. She'll never get it back to 100% if she doesn't use it at fifty percent, or sixty, or seventy.
That in itself, she doesn't (won't) consider a mistake. Selecting RANDOM / ??? at the level screen, on the other hand...
The mist clears, revealing a road that seems to stretch on for infinity. It's actually on a loop, with a fuzzy line less than a finger's width indicating where it ends and repeats, but Pyrrha's hardly video game savvy enough to notice such a thing. No, it's not the intricate little details that betray technology's imprecisions that get her attention. She knows this road, remembers it. She remembers the temperature dropping as a storm encroached, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, fear desperate enough to bend anyone's knees...
Above them, firm letters appear in the sky. A woman's unmoving voice reads them out, in case neither one of them look up:
LEVEL 1: ESCORT MISSION
OBJECTIVE: KEEP THE MAIDEN ALIVE UNTIL THE TIMER REACHES ZERO
20:00
The enemies? Why, endless clones of Mercury and Emerald, of course! At five minutes to, they'll encounter a single mini-boss — but we're not quite there, yet. The timer hasn't even started counting down.
The only sign of life on the road - aside from them, of course - is a faint sound, formless but unquestionable, as if the rustling of wind through the leaves and grass could make this sound.
It can't, though.
From just beyond their eyeline, hoofbeats sound out against the packed dirt of the road: a damning, baleful clip-clop.
Pyrrha exhales, and looks east, knowing exactly what she'll see.
She's determined to meet it head on. ]
1 / 3
Beyond them, Amber's clutching at her side, flashing an unhealthy red, the colour of an angry welt. That's what Pyrrha will remember most about this, later: splashes of red among nature's muted blues and browns and greys, powerful suggestions of blood, death, pain - things she remembers too well, too vividly.
More and more enemies fill the area. Jaune's shield ricochets through as many as it can, gaining momentum with every bounce like a pinball in an arcade machine, but Pyrrha knows this is risky. The last time she was so reckless with her semblance, the protective hand of her aura had shattered - more red, falling apart like glass - and she had been left helpless.
A woman's flat voice announces once more. It hadn't been a grating, hated sound at the beginning. It is now.
The MAIDEN is at 35% health. OVERDRIVE MODE now in cooldown. ]
We need to—