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diatu2019-05-03 01:19 pm
magicademymods) wrote in diatu2019-05-03 01:19 pm
May Event and Intro Log
It is entirely possible the Twilight Ball is beloved because the general student body is aggressively amorous, but no one admits that out loud. With the dance on the horizon, the mission of the day becomes finding a partner -- or asking the prettiest or nicest or most tsundere to the ball before anyone else does. The Sundered are particularly popular by virtue of being new, so students may find themselves fending off invitations or even crowds of people interested in being seen on their arms. Even the younger Sundered have a few people in their age group who'd like to pretend they're just as adult as the older students. To avoid the mob, one strategy is to find someone else in dire straits and agree to be their date, thus giving both of you protection now and then. Another, stranger, vastly more unorthodox strategy is to actually ask someone out legitimately... if you've got the guts. (The third strategy is to go with Headmaster Birony, who has been occasionally heard to bemoan loudly and publicly that she has nobody, HINT HINT. But who could possibly be THAT desperate?)
So, yes, there's love potion in the water. Someone spilled an entire bucket in the river. These things happen. Luckily, as diluted as it is, the potion doesn't reach the levels of obsessive compulsion that the worst of them can; a person drinking a unfortunate draught instead simply finds themselves attracted in a weird and sharp sort of way to the first person they lay their eyes on, for a period of about thirty minutes. Diatu Magicademy is an inclusive and progressive institution, and consequently these potions affect and can target all manner of beings, from ducks and wolf-shifters to robots and dragons. They are pretty convenient about failing to bring about really skeevy pairings, though, so don't worry about being Hot For Professor.
An enterprising student who adds their own spin to this hallowed ceremony of delivery can make bank; singing and performance are popular ways to enhance a message among Valhudor students, and a recent trend finds quartets delivering acapella harmonies to the recipients of love notes. But simple note hauling can still be worth your while... so long as you don't find yourself delivering a creepy confession from a weirdo to one of your dear friends. What are the odds of that happening, though?
This month, however, the research team informs its applicants that there is no magic being performed. Instead, they ask you to participate in partnered interviews, in which two Sundered compare their worlds and ask each other questions while the researchers take notes. They explain that they wish to find commonalities and differences between worlds, in the hopes that this will help them identify a larger pattern in how the Sundered were brought here. How is this bad enough to merit earning a reward this month? As it happens, the researchers who sit with the pair have an Intimation Crystal, which shines red every time someone speaks to deceive in its presence. Lie or omit information or cover with half-truths and the interviewer will ask you to go back and try again -- and they encourage you to speak on everything you can. You might end up venturing into dark or unpleasant territory in these interviews...
With a tumultuous shuddering and an eerie, whistling roar, the first tendril of a far mightier being surges out of a wall on campus, venturing into the cloud-shadowed outdoors for the first time in its existence in this plane. Then, like a cloak shrugged off, the outbuilding it emerged from rises up only to crash to the ground as the Sundered creature rises up to claim it glory. It is a nightmare, a horror. A terrible, indescribable thing as large as a small building —a shapeless agglutination of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of light. For some inexplicable reason, it is colored in bands of purple, black, and gold, and several parts of it sprout white feathers. That's the bad news. The bad news is that this existential threat to reality does not go unnoticed, nor unchallenged. Mere moment after the Sundered creature makes it presence known, a cold wind begins to blow. The temperature abruptly drops thirty degrees, leaving those around in a clammy and miserable chill that feels like they've passed their whole body through one of the ghosts of Makerion Keep. This estimation is not too far wrong, for the pale off-white dragon that emerges from the clouds above is translucent and ethereal, save for the shining eyes of coldest blue that fix on the beast like pinpoints of fire. What a ghost dragon is doing here is anyone's guess, but when it opens its jaw to unleash a withering cone of necrotic energy at the Sundered creature, it demonstrates plainly that it will not brook this interloper on its domain. In other words, Diatu Magicademy is now home to a kaiju fight. That's the bad news. The BAD news is that both these creatures are, by their very nature, incredibly resistant to magic. So even as the professors spill out and split duties of getting students to safety and fending them off, the two beasts barely notice the arcane energy flashing through the air as they begin vigorously brawling. Thank goodness this is a weekend, or else you'd all have some serious trouble getting to class on time.
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[She calls it after him, ignoring the niggling voice in her head that's telling her to scoop up her buns and keep going, because this really isn't any of her concern.]
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[A little effort, a little focus, and then Jecht's abruptly on fire. Except the fire doesn't appear to be hurting him. Magic!]
Everything hates fire, right?
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Okay, that's impressive. So impressive that she almost forgets about the fact that they might be standing a little too close-- that is, until a many-eyed tendril or a mis-aimed energy discharge strikes the roof of the building behind her. Immediately, shingles and broken glass rain down on--
Well, on where Jude would have been standing if she hadn't thrown herself out of the way just in time. Just as she rolls back onto her feet, hand instinctively on the hilt of her sword, there is a low, ominous, inorganic groan.
And then the building starts collapsing onto itself in horrifying slow motion.
...Unless the fire protects him from falling bricks, this might be a good time for both of them to get moving.]
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[Well, he's lucky in one way. These bracelets don't just do fire, they're a four-classical-elements deal. Useless for anything except stuff surrounding him directly, so it's not like he can pop up a wall of stone or something to hold back the building.]
[About all he can do is switch from fire to earth, swathing himself in stone like one of four people who are deemed fantastic -- then shove himself in between the building and the girl, so it smashes off of him instead of her.]
[And, uh, brace himself, because this is probably gonna sting.]
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There's literally no time to look a gift horse in the mouth. She know she's not going to outrun the falling building. Instead she skids to a halt and then moves closer towards him, folding herself down to hunker behind him, arms locked above4 her head to protect it best she can.
It's only a breath until they're enveloped in a storm of dust and noise. She feels impact rock her -- both of them, because she's pressed right against him. Her eyes are squeezed shut. Small debris rains against her, catches in her hair.
It probably takes only a few seconds for it to be over. It feels longer.]
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['Kay. Let's take stock. Hurting? Hell yeah, but nothing worse than if he'd been chain-tackled by three guys in the blitz sphere. So that means nothing broken. So he's calling this a win.]
[He starts to move, but as stuff shifts around them, he remembers something really important indeed and goes real still.]
Hey, you okay?
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[Shaky, but alive. There is thundering in her ears as she tries to straighten. Various parts of her hurt, and blood from at least one long cut soaks her sleeve, but she'd wager that’s better than most people feel after a building falls on them.]
Are you? [She’s starting to look around, trying to figure out just how trapped in debris they are. The sounds of the titans’ battle are still not far from them; it's not particularly safe.]
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[Pressing his hands into the ground, Jecht arches up beneath the weight of the rubble above him. Whether it ain't much or just because he's the Great Jecht, the stones roll off his back as he pushes against them, till he can shove his way up to a crouch.]
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Once she's worked her way out, she'll pivot to extend a helping hand to her protector.]
We should get out of here.
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[Not alone. But what choice did he have? Couldn't just let this go on without trying to help... that definitely isn't the right thing to do.]
[He doesn't want to take her hand out of sheer pride. So he sticks his out halfway, then pretends like he just remembered the earth still swirling around him from his magic jewelry. And he turns that off as he straightens up properly.] I still got stuff I can do.
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Putting yourself in harms way because someone has to act -- she knows well enough what that looks like. Though it seems much more self-destructive from this vantage point...
Regardless, she nods.] Thank you.
[There is one thing, though:] What's your name?
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Name's Jecht. [One hand on his neck, he jerks his head left, then right, to limber up the muscles after all that mess.] Unless it's blitzball or bala-inlota, then it's the Great Jecht at a minimum!
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She's not sure that moniker applies to this guy either, though.]
Jecht. [She nods, as if to confirm.] Don't die.
[And with that entreaty, she'll turn around and start making her way over the rubble, away from the noise of the fight.]
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I'll come out of this all right, you don't worry! Whoever you are!