MASKTOURN

intro post instructions

To attend the tournament, your characters will be visited by a divine entity and raptured to a different dimension. Please write out something along these lines to introduce your character. I will post Kyrie’s for reference. You must be completely alone to be raptured. You begin to feel a dry, suffocating heat envelop you, growing hotter to the point of burning. Your heart begins to race, and your mouth dries out. In a brilliant flash, the flaming figure of a person appears in front of you. You can’t identify any identifying details about this figure; the flame obscures their features. In a deep voice, speaking a language you don’t know but are somehow able to understand effortlessly, they speak:

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

If you answer with anything other than ‘no’, your senses will be overwhelmed with white light, metallic ringing sounds, and the sensation of burning, til the point you pass out. You disappear in a brilliant flash, leaving nothing behind. If you answer ‘no’, the apparition will disappear and you will not attend the tournament. Once this post is in, your characters are posted, and you have decided on at least attack, defense and divine intuition modifiers for your characters, we can begin your private meeting with the Lifebringer!

innsjo | kyrie🪶+ darcy🖋+npcs pinned a message to this channel. 4/13/2024 6:51 PM

kyrie

It was a cool, complacent night, much like many others Kyrie had survived so far. This was now the fifth autumn she had spent in the heart of Ilsaati City. It was the largest city up in the north, and it was almost beginning to feel like home. Almost. Really, she knew it would never be. By the time night falls, her shift has ended- with no help from a pair of customers who’d walked in two minutes before closing time. She and Myra spent a while more cleaning up the cafe and locking up before they officially, completely, parted ways. Myra was a nice girl- a few years younger than her, a recent university graduate, a hard worker, and Kyrie pretended not to notice the way she stared too long at her wings, or the whispers her coworker had tried to hide from her prying ear. Myra thought she didn’t belong here. Kyrie didn’t know if she did or not. But, mostly, she just wanted to go home. She lived on the south-east side of Ilsaati, close to the water, and the night was quieter. It was mostly a residential area and, while it wasn’t the richest neighborhood in the coastal city, Kyrie had considered herself lucky to get an apartment. It wasn’t even too far from her workplace, and so few landlords wanted corvi tenants these days. The night was dark and milky, cool with the edge of the coming winter, but not so cool that Kyrie regretted leaving her jacket at home. On another night- on most nights- she would’ve fallen back into her first, primal form and flown- it’d be swifter, and she’d feel the cool wind on her feathers, and she’d almost be able to imagine she was back- but tonight, she walked. She wanted to savor that cool, night air while she still had it. She didn’t want to lose herself in the clear, infinite pitch of night. When she was two blocks away from her apartment, she began to feel it. The rapid warming of the air around her, closing in on her. They dryness on her tongue, the sharpness in the air. It’s all she can do to keep her mind from going back there. Back to that night, back to the inescapable heat the the choking smoke and the screaming. Her heart is racing before it begins to do so unnaturally, and she’s about to flee when a flaming person appears before her. It’s the same height as her, and seems more fire than body. And still, they don’t seem in pain. It lays its sights on her immediately, and, in a cool tone, announces, “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel.” She’s too terrified to move. Words ring in recognition but no connections are made. The Lifebringer. Some of her coworkers worshiped it. Iria had once invited her to a temple, but she’d faked sick to decline. A citadel. Her hallowed presence. The voice continued: “The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling.” Kyrie could barely pay attention to the words, much less what they meant. She watched the flames flicker and dance ever closer to her, and wished she had will in her body to escape them. ”Will you answer?” It took her a moment to register that, when the figure stopped talking, it was expecting an answer from her. Her mouth is too dry- too dry. “I don’t-” The moment the words are uttered, she’s gone. Flame and heat and terror envelope her, until there’s nothing left.

roman

Three-hundred and sixty-five days ago, Roque Rayes had died. Three-hundred and sixty-five days ago, Roman was given his last order. For three-hundred and sixty-five days, Roman had been working ceaselessly to follow out on Roque's rites. He had finished her final album, he had dissolved the remaining band, he had gathered what he could of her body, he had learned everything he could from Ryu before she ghosted him, and he had tracked down who he believed was behind Roque's death. Petrai. That cursed woman that had blinded his mistress, that woman that tormented her until she died, that woman who got to live after all of that. She needed to be dealt with, and then Roman could finally move on. He had been trudging up a long, long, long pathway. He was fairly sure Petrai would have been able to see him coming no matter where he tried to come from, so he may as well take the path of least resistance. But man, did swamps usually get this hot? That dry, no humidity- wait, why was it so dry? This is a swamp! It felt like he was back in Mlipuko and not in some wetland. But it went beyond that- it was hotter than your average day in Mlipuko. The only thing that rivaled it was one particular night there... But this must have been Roque. She was urging him to continue. If he turned back now, it would probably get worse. His suspicions were strengthened when his heart began to race, because surely, he couldn't be scared. He wanted to do this. He trudged on, not even wincing at the pain. "Roque, I know ya wanna get this over with too so you can do more than see me again, but you're gonna throw me off if you make it any hotter." Roman said, stuttering a bit as his mouth dried out. Then, that firey figure appeared, and Roman just stood in front of it.

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?

"Dude, Roque, I can do this, stop distracting me." He crossed his arms, just in time for the light to blind him. He stumbled backward with his hands over his eyes, curling up as he felt his body burn. "Roque- Roque! PLEASE! I-I know it's been a year but I'm here, I'm doing it, st-stop!" The jar at his leg had no comment. He flashed away, leaving nothing behind but disturbed pathway.

peregrine

tw drug references His latest had just left and he was already forgetting her name. Otto was coming to pick him up, make sure Peregrine was in pristine condition. He wasn’t. Hadn’t been- for some time. Known fact. He stretched in the bed, not really his, yearning for the will to get up and shower, or something. He’d done enough cleaning, cleansing, for a lifetime, and yet he still needed to clean. His wings shuddered at the thought, tugging against the still-healing wounds on his back, from when he had lost- Peregrine didn’t lose. Lie. He hadn’t slept in three days, maybe. Day and night blended together, most of his time spent indoors, monitored, in hotels, in clubs, in bedrooms, plunged into darkness, like now, or, at best, buzzing lights that wished they could reach his level of artificiality. Otto had taken the thing that let him sleep - rather, let him crash at the end of the high. Usually, these little forays, giving himself over to someone and letting them take all he could give, it put him to sleep. Having no other choice or way to sleep was supposed to be encouragement. Like he needed it. It was hot, but of course he was hot, in both senses. It was never a cold ordeal, still an ordeal- though it was never dry like this. Peregrine licked his lips to little avail, then sudden light banished the darkness. He jumped, falling onto the bed, soreness intensified, and stared at the being. Despite it, he struggled to be alert, zoning in and out of its words, head thudding, mind elsewhere. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” One word made sense, stuck out to him. Lifebringer. He remembered that. He would make sure no one ever knew. Otto was minutes away, he wearily glanced at his phone as it lit up from the text. He only got texts from Otto now. Peregrine rolled his head to the side, debating. “Oh… why not?” Teach Otto to take his pills.

asha

"You've got the kids tonight right, Rome?" Asha asked loudly as she shoved a few more things in to a backpack. Some numbing spray, cooling pads, pain relievers, pads, and enough extra pairs of underwear to last a week, probably. She was standing in a bedroom, and a pretty nice one at that. Elegant wooden flooring, a giant television across from the giant bed, tasteful wallpaper, and a few doors leading to walk in closets and the master bathroom. The blankets on the bed were thin, but silky. Piles of pillows were tucked under the sheet currently, and it was perfectly tucked and made. "Ash, I promise I have it. You go have some fun! I'm cooking up dinner right now for the kids-" A masculine voice spoke from across the house. "Dekha, dinner will be ready in five! Let's snack after if you're still hungry, okay? And Lupita, can you help your sister set the table? Just three plates for tonight!" Asha let out a deep breath. Thank FSM he was so willing to help out. "Okay okay I believe you! Kaisa's bottles are in the fridge! There should be enough for tonight, and tomorrow, aaaaaand a bit extra just in case we get a little too cray-cray tonight." Asha laughed and zipped up her backpack. "Daddy, what's cray-cray mean?" A little girls voice could be heard from outside. "Means Mommy's gonna go have a lot of fun with her friends! Kaisa's been a lot of work, she needs some time." "Ohh, like she does after the festivals are over? An' she goes and sees Genny and Ari for a few days?" "Mhm, like that. But don't be sad, we got plenty of good food tonight and I picked out a movie to watch!" "Ohhoh, what movie!" "You'll just have to wait and see! I'll let you pick out another one to watch too if you can get Dekha to finish all her vegetables." "Whhhhh, fine! I'll do that!" Asha was just standing by the door, smiling. She knew the second she left the room she'd have two little girls running at her, and probably wake a thankfully napping baby. It was just nice to listen. Soon, she'd be with her girls again and not have to even think about being on mom duty- well, besides her pumping. That was unavoidable, but besides that! She'd be free. Her husband was a blessing. She grabbed the door knob just in time for heat to begin to spread across her. She dropped the knob, and stumbled back toward the bed. "R-Rome- can you come check the door-" She tried to say it as loudly as she had before, but her mouth was dry. "What was that, Ash?" She repeated herself, but it was only quieter this time. Every time she tried to clear her throat, the fire radiated out further and hotter. She had to take a knee, though she ended up falling on to her side. She couldn't even scream for help with how dry her mouth felt. Was this a hot flash? Could you hit menopause five weeks after having a baby? Was it this bad- "Shoot, Lupita, can you watch the oven for me? Just turn it off it it starts smoking, mkay? I'm gonna go check on mom." "Wuh? Is she okay? What's wrong?" "I just need to make sure she doesn't forget her medicine, she's okay." "Okie, I'll watch the oven. Go be fast!" Then, a flash, and a person was beside her. A person who was on fire.

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

At seeing the person set aflame, Asha could ignore her own pain. She couldn't think through what they had said through the agony, but something in her clcicked at seeing someone who was just fire. "A-are you okay-" And she was gone. The door swung open. "Asha are you- Asha!" Roman exclaimed as he ran around the room, checking behind ever door for her. But she was gone.

ellie

The ice-skating rinks in the heart of the city are crowded constantly. They close early; eight-thirty, nine if she's lucky. Or at ten, if she's luckier and finds a quiet skating rink on the outskirts of the city. It's shifty, it's quiet, there's only two people working here, and she'll probably get mugged- but in all her years going here, there's never once been an incident (except a possum falling from the rafters halfway into her routine). She trusts this place more than she trusts the city itself, and that's not an impressive brag. It's ten twenty-four; there is a heap of blue hair and blue clothing sitting against the rink's walls, wheezing through her teeth. Charlie and Sal- the two employees here -were kind enough to leave her the keys to lock up on her own. And so she grabs the silvery keys, hauls her heavy-as-hell bag from her locker, and makes her way to the showers, her back aching and sore all over. s1lver-spinz: at rink s1lver-spinz: showering jasonlao022 is typing... Yeah, she really needs to hit the showers. Her throat's all dry and awful now. She forgot to drink when skating. jasonlao022: Why jasonlao022: Do you Want mold s1lver-spinz: yum Ellie's zipper catches on fabric as she tries to take off her jacket, and she groans, wrangles with it for a moment more, before giving up and trying to yank it off entirely. Damn, she is cooking alive in these showers. Which is unusual, given that it's freezing in here. jasonlao022: No. Not yum jasonlao022: When do you think you'll come home Eleven-twenty, she begins to type out, before the heat picks up in front of her- it swells, and she yelps, this startled, strangled, 'woah!' as fire coalesces in front of her- no, as a person manifests in front of her, crackling and flaming and...speaking. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. She knew none of these words. Ellie staggers back against the bench as she covers her nose with a quiet groan. What was this? She can't speak. She doesn't know if she can. She can't even try.

The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war.

Burning? No, not quite- not yet. Ellie pulls at her shirt, trying to relieve herself of the sweltering heat, but it's no use. It can't force itself to move, either, too caught up in the sweltering, aching heat of that...that...ghost? Apparition? Was there a ghost in this shower, too? You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” "H-huh- whuh?" Chosen? "Wait- wait, huh?" For the second time that week, her tinnitus kicks in, and the heat swallows her whole. s1lver-spinz: 1 jasonlao022 is typing... jasonlao022: Ellie?

isi

Isi wandered along the path at a simple trot and a light hum. Her usual companion had gone his own way in search of his own food for the time being, they'd meet up later. All she had on her was a mostly-empty satchel, containing a specially-added compartment (by Isi herself no less, she's very proud) containing a little jar. The Fauns trot slowed and her nose crinkled as she felt first warmth, then suffocating heat climb over her. Even after the time that had passed, she felt immediately snapped back to the firey heat she'd been met with in an arena she wished would leave her mind. She could even feel her heart racing as if the fight was still on. In the middle of trying to convince herself that this would pass, it always passed, she was in the forest, she was alright, a firey figure appeared in front of her as if in mocking, and she leapt backwards with a yelp. It took mere seconds to recognize that despite the familiar feelings, this was a new face. Or... lack of face. She squinted at the light. "You're not- I'm not dreaming. I'm awake." She stated, more for herself than the figure. "Who are you?" “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel." Lifebringer? Lifebringer? Isi's face morphed into a snarl near-instantly. The phrase rung in her ears and she accidentally tuned out half of the figures next words. "--spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” "Heres your answer, flame-brain!" Isi shouted and broke into a running leap at the figure, flames or no she was ready for a fight. No running this time. She cried out as she stumbled instantly when her vision went white. Isi crashed to the side, hands instinctively going to the strap of her satchel, pulling it up close to her chest like a child would a stuffed animal. She couldn't see, she needed to see. She was gone in an instant.

kallum

Kallum burrowed himself into the corner of the alleyway, fire flickering on his fingertips for warmth and familiarity in this strange place. He didn’t know where he was. Not far. Headquarters loomed over the horizon, staring right at him. People were still looking. The youngest Guardian didn’t get to leave without being searched for. He didn’t know how to leave London either. It was a matter of moving from different hiding spots. Kallum didn’t usually hide. He didn’t like it. Fires seemed to be common in the city right now; something was happening to make the streets empty. Kallum knew London very well, very very well, and it was never this quiet. Maybe in smaller streets but this wasn’t small. He thought it wasn’t, at least. But there was a fire in the distance, wafting smoke into the fog, smog, and he hadn’t lit that. He took his fire with him. He assumed it was Dmitri’s fault. Everything was Dmitri’s fault. It was his fault. Sudden brightness grabbed Kallum’s eyes, he squeezed them tight but the light persisted, as a whole then insistent specs of white that wouldn’t go away. In the light, it spoke. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” He covered his ears, hating the noise, hating the light, the dryness. “What- SHUT UP!” He yelled, jolting with a start. It worsened before it stopped. Kallum hated it.

ace

s1lver-spinz: 1 jasonlao022: Ellie? Ace squints at their phone as they lean back in their chair, the wood creaking as it always does. She might be busy. Maybe she put down her phone to shower. Maybe her phone died. It's always forgetting to charge it's phone. Yes. Maybe it's phone died. They try to ignore that gnawing feeling in that stomach. Instead, they continue their work- sorting through papers, flipping through books, and scrawling things down on post-its. It's eleven-ten- nearly an hour later. Ellie still hasn't responded yet. She most certainly left them on read. "Mmm," he hums, pinching the bridge of their nose. Ellie's old enough to be responsible- he doesn't need to worry about her. She'll text them as soon as she gets out. Maybe she's driving. Maybe it had to stop for food, met a friend, met Nathan, and now they're going home together. Yes. Yes, all of these things are true. They must be. Their chair scrapes against the ground as they stand, papers, yarn and thumbtacks gathered in his arms. He may as well work while Ellie is out. In a now empty ceramic studio, there is a corkboard. Photos and papers gather on it in a disorganized heap, pinned together with staples and thumbtacks. Yet as he sets his papers down next to the corkboard, a dull shudder runs along his back. Ace whirls on his heel, and is greeted by a demon standing in front of him, obscured by crackling, scorching flames. In an instant, their throat goes dry, and they fumble for something as it begins to speak. Mana coalesces at his fingertips. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. Nimble fingers tug at the string of his bow before faltering, leaping to his throat as he begins to cough desperately for air. He can't breathe. He can't breathe.

The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war.

Nathan's photo, pinned to the corkboard, stares blankly ahead, warped by the intensity of the heat. He smiles at them, teeth and all. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” "Get out of my apartment," Ace manages to hiss through his teeth, before he sinks to the ground. Their chest hurts. Their head hurts. Is this what dying feels like? He's dying. He's dying. The light eating away at his vision is a sure sign of that. ...Their apartment is quiet again. It's unsettling, this silence. (He's not here to hate it, though.)

invo

Tap. Tap. Tap. It was nearing 1am in the morning in Behdsairma, a light rain covering the dark city in even blacker clouds. Hidden in the depths of the crowd, a maze of allies and buildings decorated the land’s great city. Tonight, Behdsairma would see a brilliant display of colors. A man, no taller than six-feet, ran through one of the dark allies. This man was the new face of the capital, meant to serve and represent the good of the people. The gray suit he was wearing stuck to him like glue in the rain, his hair plastered like plastic against his forehead as he ran. Ran from what, exactly? There was no one behind him. Nothing following behind his pathic, bumbling idea of an escape towards an unknown exit. It didn’t take long for the man to reach what he thought was his salvation: A long black limo that the city council owned. He stumbled to one of the passenger doors, trying quickly, desperately, to open it. He tugged, and tugged, whimpering as the door refused to budge. No, there was no such thing as salvation. Not for this man, at least. It was done so quickly, nearly impossible to even notice at first. The man stopped pulling at the door, his eyes slowly dropping to a cold sensation piercing his chest. His gray suit was starting to paint into a red color. His white undershirt, his tie, his pants... All of it, red. With what little strength he had left, he first looked at what pierced him–A blade, slim, but long and deadly. It was one clean cut through his chest, his heart. Then slowly, he turned to look at his killer’s face. What a sight to behold. Standing in his shadow was a young man. Dressed with a dark hood over his head and a mask under the lower half of his face, all he could see was the rage in the boy’s eyes–and that’s what would fill the man’s mind as it slowly faded away into nothing, falling into abyss. Om shanti om. Invo pulled his machete out of the man’s body, cleanly wiping it of all blood with a single swing. That was another target down. He was close to finishing his job here in Behdsairma. He’d be allowed to return to the capital once he was done, and then finally, the Great Hmarab may grant him his wish. He let his target lay slump against the black limo, cold and lifeless. Someone would come and find him in the morning. Hopefully, the stray dogs and crows leave something behind for anyone willing to remember him. It was only when Invo started to step away from the scene did a ringing suddenly start in his head. The rain seemed to dry up in a rush, completely vanishing as a heat filled up his lungs. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel.” Invo’s eyes widened as he struggled to breathe. The Lifebringer? He fell to his knees, his machete scraping against the wet concrete as he tried to steady himself with it. No! He was so close to finally getting what he wants! He was not going to let Hmarab down, especially because of another insolent, lower God! Strangling against his teeth, Invo glared at the glowing figure. “T-The Great Hmarab will not forgive this, Lifebringer.” And in an instant, Invo was gone. (edited)

levi

The room was barely filled with any light. Only the heavily barred windows high up off the ground shone the moon's gaze into the room. Old splatters of blood and broken remains of what seemed like a bed at one point left. A large, human shape rested within the shadows, thick cuffs almost clinging to his ankles and wrists like a second layer of skin around them. The largest resting heavily around his neck, like a battered mutt left starving after giving disappointed results in a fight. His eyes flung open. Something making this fleshy form's heart to race. The hair on his arms raising as he slowly raises. Mouth dried from either the anticipation.... or the rising heat. In a flash a flaming figure with unidentifiable features speaks.... and that just makes Levi grin wider and wider. It almost being unnaturally so as it tells him what he was 'requested' for. " Heh. This should be fun~." In an instant, he was gone.

valerie

It was the end of the day as Valerie was putting everything in her office. All the papers were in place, folders all neat and organized. She let out a heavy sigh as she drops the last folder on her desk, rubbing her temples. "Gods.." She groaned. "What a day." Valerie slumped against her desk, staring at the ceiling. "Hmm." She hummed as she leaned shut her eyes. "I deserve a drink. I've done so much work today." She smiled to herself as she moved to the small wine cabinet she had in her office. Sliding into her chair, Valerie kicked her feet onto the desk and poured herself a glass, mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she took a sip of her drink. Nothing in particular caught her attention, same old same old. It wasn't until she felt a unbearable heat envelop her that she squeezed her eyes shut, hissing quietly. "What the fuck-?" She whispered. Valerie winced as she saw a bright light in front of her and she opened her eyes, squinting. "Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” "Lifebringer? Not this shit again-" Valerie hissed in distaste Though she couldn't do much as she felt her senses be overwhelmed, with everything in the room. In a flash she's gone and the glass falls to the floor with a shatter.

ryunoske

Time isn't forgiving. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks... those all passed without patience for the present. Just as quickly as Ryunoske had gotten on the boat at the beginning of the week, she was boarding off it five days later at the same dock. She had returned with more than what she came with, but what mattered to her remained unchanged. Ryu spared only a few people words. Mostly just pleasantries to exchange contact information before heading off on her own. She didn't need to say any more than that. There was no one who wanted any more than that. Her bike roared to life as she revved the engine. The city air felt cool, but warmer than the island's. She could still feel the remnants of snow on her jacket, but like the time spent on the island, it would slowly melt into nothing. Ryu rode off home, quietly and certainly. Her boxes were tied in toe and by the time she returned home, her father was waiting for her. Suijin looked the same as ever. Tired, stoic, and unimpressed by Ryunoske's presence. Even after presenting him with the body parts that would prove a nice price, Suijin remained uninterested. Tora and Rion both wanted to ask what their older sister had been up to in the past week, but they also both knew that it wasn't their place to ask. Life continued on like normal for another five days. Well, normal as it was for Ryunoske. The glass canister that held Roque’s eyes was auctioned off to the highest bidder, which happened to be an eccentric man in Roque’s band–Who, for some ungodly reason, was now blowing up her phone every minute of the day. Blocking yet another account from Roman, Ryu drove on her motorcycle through the night. She felt rather restless, the events earlier on that week still sitting in her throat like a scratch she couldn’t reach. A part of it felt like one really bad trip. Something she experienced because someone must have laced something in her drinks that night. There wasn’t any part of her that really knew what happened, truly. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel.” Ryu’s bike came to a crashing halt, throwing her onto the grass beside the road. Some cars honked as he flew, but something else was racing in his mind. The Lifebringer. What else did that blasted God want from him? Grunting, Ryunoske pulled himself up from the dirt, brushing off some blood from scrapes and cuts from the tumble. She glared intensely at the glowing figure, ignoring the heat and dryness emitting from it. “You here for round two?” Ryu growled–Then promptly disappeared.

darcy

Abbreviare, Abbreviatio, Abbreviation. Darcy mindlessly reviewed his lecture notes as his students filed out the classroom door. They’d been diving into historical etymologies that day, and he’d always thought it good to start out the young minds with a little exercise in how much a language could change over time- in this case, Latin. Not that his mind was all that older than his students’. He got the feeling some of them didn’t respect him as much as they did their older, more tenured professors. He hoped that feeling would go away with time. Not long ago, it had been Darcy, in their shoes- young and naive and hopeful, looking at the world with bright eyes and already planning the ways he was going to change it. Time must’ve made him bitter. It was four years ago, now, that he’d attended that wretched, god-awful cult-run tournament. He’d walked away from the boat much the same man he’d been when he’d boarded it the first time, yet he still went back to that time, in his mind. It was the beginning of the bad times. Nothing went well, after he’d attended that tournament and returned home. But life went on. “Tea?” Someone came into the classroom, stirring Darcy from his paperwork-disguised musings. It was Alejandro, carrying two cups of piping hot tea. That explained why he hadn’t knocked. Darcy couldn’t help but smile. Alejandro was his coworker- the closest thing he had to a friend these days. They both worked in the linguistics department at Saltbridge University, though Alejandro’s specialization was the Romance languages (in comparison to Darcy’s study of the Sino-Tibetan languages). Still, neither of them could get out of teaching entry-level courses. “Thank you.” Darcy smiled, and graciously took the tea he’d been offered. Black, just like he liked it. Alejandro always made his own with far too much cream and sugar, but Darcy thought the sweetness suited his coworker far better than it ever would him. “How were your students today?” Alejandro asked, already inviting himself into the chair before Darcy’s desk. “Any more trouble?” Darcy managed a dry laugh. “None today. Though, it amazes me how little some of these students know. I had to explain what a diacritic was today.” “Ah, Darcy, you’re too harsh on them!” Alejandro laughed. “We were once that young and stupid.” “Hm. Perhaps we were.” Darcy took a sip of his tea. “Your class starts in half-an-hour, right?” “Mhm. Introduction to Early Spanish Literature.” Alejandro nodded. “I wanted to stop by, before I had to go ramble about chivalric romances for a few hours.” “I’m glad you did.” Darcy smiled. It felt more like a confession than it was. “What are you doing after this? When your workday is done?” “I’m going to see my father.” Alejandro’s face fell. “Is he doing worse?” “He’s… not doing any better. I worry about him, all sick and alone…” Darcy cast his gaze aside. “I try to visit him as much as I can.” “I understand. I hope, really, that he starts getting better soon.” Alejandro put a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. The touch was warm, almost daring. “Though, if it gets to be too much for you- please, just send me a telegram. I’ll have the spare room at my flat prepared for you in a moment.” Darcy put his hand over Alejandro’s, on his shoulder. “Thank you, Ale. I’ll… keep that in mind.”

7:33 PM

… Three years ago, when he had earned his degree, Darcy had moved out of his father’s townhouse, and into a student flat closer to the university he now taught at. Last autumn, his father had suddenly fallen ill and never truly recovered. The physicians said it was consumption, and Darcy knew that meant he wouldn’t survive. His father’s condition was worsening by the day, yet Lovett Sterling, stubborn as ever, held onto life white-knuckled and bare-clawed. Darcy wished he wouldn’t. He might be happier going into death, that way. It was a ten-minute ride on the tram from the university to the posh neighborhood his father lived in, and it was raining that entire time. Darcy tugged his raincoat tight around his shoulders, and adjusted his hat so the rain didn’t fall onto his glasses lenses. He barely made his stop, and rushed out into the rain, speed-walked the three blocks to his father’s townhouse, and sealed himself in the warmth of the antechamber. Octavia, his father’s maid for the past two years, was there to greet him. “Your father is with Doctor Monroe now. Once he’s done, you can go visit him.” She informed him as she took his coat, “Shall I prepare you some tea while you wait?” “Don’t bother.” Darcy shook his head and walked into the parlor. Octavia politely followed. The house hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been there- yesterday. The same wilting flowers by the windowsill, the same fading wallpaper peeling from the walls, the same stench of disease hung stale in the air. He sat by the unlit fireplace, and waited. “Thank you, though.” It was only a while before Doctor Monroe emerged from his father’s quarters. Evidently, he wanted to speak with Darcy, too, before he left. Vincent Monroe was a pale, tall man, with a sickliness to him Darcy could only presume came from spending so much time with the ill. It was with a saddened look in his eyes he sat in the chair beside Darcy’s. “Good afternoon, Professor Sterling.” “Is my father well?” Darcy asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice. “His condition is… stable.” Monroe averted his gaze to the window. “If the weather lightens up, if we’re able to get him some fresh air and maybe some exercise, then he may very well make a full recovery. If not…” Darcy understood the implication. Verendi springs were wet, cold and dismal. His father would have little opportunities for exercise or fresh air for months, and those were months he was unlikely to survive. “You can go see him now, if you’d like.” The doctor said, “Try not to disturb him too much.”

7:33 PM

Lovett’s bedroom was on the second floor of the house, shrouded in the milky darkness of afternoon. The stench of death was even stronger up there- but Darcy had learned not to mind it. The curtains on the window were shut- there was no use opening them, when the outside world was as dismal as the inside. Lovett lay in bed, blankets up to his mid-chest. Though he was never a very full man to begin with, sickness had sallowed his cheeks and pronounced his bone even further. His skin was pale, somewhat pallid, and his graying blonde hair had grown unruly and flat. He was not asleep, but barely moved as Darcy entered. Darcy sat by the bed, in the chair the doctor had set up. “It’s me, Father. I’ve come to check on you again.” Lovett opened a pale, tired eye, and gazed at Darcy. “My son…” He croaked out. “Why do you bother me so continuously with your presence? I wish to rest.” “I know, Father. And I will only be here a moment.” Darcy insisted. “Doctor Monroe says talking to your loved ones might lift your spirits.” Lovett’s steely gaze hardened, as if he couldn’t figure out why, exactly, Darcy had referred to himself as one of his loved ones. “Besides,” Darcy fidgeted with his gloves. “I want to keep your company. Spend… time with my family.” “Did I raise a weak man in you, boy?” Lovett’s tone grew harsh, angry. Darcy braced himself for any sort of blow- but of course, his father was too weak to strike. “You were not born for such sympathies. If youth has favored you over I, the very least you can do is carry my legacy properly. Or, do you not deserve your name?” He was trying to rise out of bed. “Father, no!” Darcy chided, guiding his father back down. “You’re meant to rest. Please. Try to rest.” “Insolent brat.” Lovett muttered, and Darcy took that as his cue to leave. At least, it had gone better than yesterday’s visit. …

7:34 PM

After touching the sick, Darcy washed his hands in the sink of his childhood bathroom. He’d had his gloves on at the time, but he couldn’t risk it. He would not face the same fate as his father. He watched as the water ran off his silvering skin. It had appeared months ago, when his father had first fallen ill- just some discoloration at the fingertips, a slight metallic sheen. And then it had spread. It was up to his forearms now, and an equal measure over his legs. They were progressing each day, as his father progressed into illness. He’d measured about half a centimeter's growth per day. It didn’t hurt- at least not much. His hands would get numb sometimes, and he often woke with pain in his joints, but it didn’t hurt. Not in a way he couldn’t cope with. He hadn’t told anyone, yet. He wouldn’t tell anyone til it got worse. Not when he could deal with it on his own. Yet, he still feared. He feared what it could mean. The cold water that ran off his hands was stained silverish. He couldn’t help but wonder if the metallic residue was somehow part of him, a part of him that was getting brushed away like the shavings of a knife as it’s sharpened. Still, the parts of him that were falling away were too little to catch, too little to be noticed in any way but their faint glistening sparkle. He watched, as parts of what he was sure was his body and soul swirled down the sink drain. In the other room, he could hear his father coughing. And then, came the other sensation he’d become uncomfortably familiar with these past few months. It was a sort of tugging- most physically present in his chest, though he was certain it was not a physical sensation, but a mental, spiritual one. It felt as if his very being was a knit fabric, and someone was pulling on a loose thread. It felt as if he were unraveling. It felt as if he was coming undone, as if someone had written out his entire existence and then begun to erase it. He was keeled over the sink, almost retching from the pain, when he noticed how dry and warm the room was getting. And then, the flaming figure appeared. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” He could barely register the words, or the fact there was some kind of… flaming ghost suddenly in his bathroom. He managed eye contact- if it had eyes- only by awkwardly bending his glasses frame, trying to understand what had been asked. What he could register, though, was the language that the damned thing had spoken in. “What the- are you speaking Laecrish?” The minute the pained, confused words left his tongue, he was gone.

gale

Two weeks ago, Gale Davenport had just moved back into her parent’s house. Six years ago she moved out, packed all of her things and moved to Chicago with a girlfriend to become a journalist. Her entire life was ahead of her. One year ago, Roy went missing. Their baby sister, Claire, took it the worst out of all of them. Hadn’t been to school since last March. It was January again. The anniversary was in three days. There was no clues to where he went in his house, just like the first dozen times they checked. His house was freezing, just like the last time she visited him. Significantly more dust in the air, though. No one in the family really wanted to.. change anything. Everything was where he left it. Frozen in time. Claire was in the living room, sitting under a quilt their mom gave Roy four Christmases ago. Gale was in his room, holding an old jacket she pulled out of his closet. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Hey, Sunny-“ The words died in her throat. When the hell did it get so hot? And why was her heart racing so suddenly?? Her grip on the jacket tightened as her eyes darted around the room. Sudden light blinds her as a voice calls out: “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” “W-what the fuck is this-” Blinding light erupts out from the room, and Gale is gone. Claire runs to the room, the quilt around her shoulders. “Gale? Gale?? ….th-this isn’t funny- where are you?” No one answers. (edited)

carrion

12:08 PM

——— [bug mention] On the outskirts of a small, dilapidated town, a purple haired child was wandering. Smiling at shadows, speaking to empty air, laughing in strange fits. Their hand traced along a concrete wall as they walked along. The child suddenly stopped, looking down at a torn open black bag. Its smile grew, and they crouched over the bag. “Haha! We’re lucky today, Yoli! Ha, th-there’ss.. hmmm... a whoooole chicken here! Aha, do you th-think the flies mind ssharing?” Nothing responded. The child reached their hand out towards the carrion- but suddenly paused. “Umm, Yoli? D-do you ffeel-“ The words died on their tongue. Their heart was pounding- they could feel it beating. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” His smile falls. Their wide, terror filled eyes darted around, searching for the voice. “Wh-who are you?” Bright, painful light envelopes them, and they disappear. The flies continue their meal, undisturbed. (edited)

leo & clove

The Bloody Mary Bar was barren, save for two figures- both clad in mostly black. Behind the bar stood Clove Eripmav, donning a black dress and a hat to match, her blonde hair swishing about as she poured herself a drink and downed it in seconds. It tasted like nothing, but she needed something to do with her hands. As she set down the glass, her eyes were fixed on a man descending the stairs to the main floor, his wiry frame contorted in… shame? No, confusion. That was not a look he wore often. Leo Von Claret liked to feel in control of the situations he got himself in, but recently the supernatural seemed to keep intervening. It wasn’t every day a man vanished in thin air right in front of him. “Where is he?” Clove sounded very worried, most definitely in reference to the aforementioned man. Leo shrugged, his bloodstained clothes catching in the light. “He’s uh… gone. I was stitching up his wound like you asked, and halfway through, he vanished. Poof. Gone.” “That man you brought upstairs just… disappeared?!” Clove shouted at the man across from her. She appeared very distraught, and if she were more angry, she’d surely be shaking. “Leo, you’re covered in his blood!” This wasn’t supposed to be Leo’s problem. “Yeah, but- ugh, just listen to me!” he retorted, fanged teeth bared. “He just… disappeared while I was stitching him up! His blood didn’t even smell good!” “I…” Clove pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “…Leo, I can’t do this right now…” she lowered her voice. “What, so now you don’t believe me?!”

10:44 AM

“…No, no… I do, I’m simply a bit overwhelmed,” her voice quickly began to steady, and a small smile replaced her once contorted expression. It was effortless, like clockwork. “This is all too much to take in right now. I really just wanted that man to be alright.” “Yeah, well maybe I did too.” Leo retorted, lying through his teeth. It didn’t matter the outcome, except for now, since he had formerly been getting the blame. “Right,” Clove nodded, believing him. “I’m sorry, Leo, and thank you for stitching him up.” Leo simply grunted in response, and turned to leave. Clove called out something to him, to which the vampire simply responded with “getting some fresh air”. The door clicked behind him, and Clove was alone in the bar once more.

10:45 AM

— Leo stepped out into the cool night air, glancing up at the moon as he sauntered towards his car, a sleek black hearse. He climbed up on its hood and sat atop it and looked around, his eyes lingering on anyone that dared to roam the streets at two in the morning. A particular distant figure caught his eye, glowing faintly as it approached. Whoever it was, it appeared rather enticing. Leo was quite hungry… …And then the figure began to burn brighter. Leo was seized by a horrid sensation, as if its flames were engulfing him. “What do you want?!” he hissed at the figure. He wasn’t expecting an answer. ”Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” “What?” Leo called back to the figure. But by then, it was too late, and he vanished without a trace. Just like that one guy he’d been stitching up… …Damn, the irony.

10:45 AM

— Meanwhile, Clove was still at the bar, her spirits lowered as she leafed through various envelopes detailing bills and other payments for her bar. Payments she… didn’t currently have the funds for. She let out a defeated sigh, sinking her head into her hands. The last of her savings had gone into bail money to get Leo out of jail after he’d robbed a blood bank. She’d barely had enough to pay her own employees! The door creaked open, yet she didn’t look up. “Leo?” she mumbled, her head still buried in her hands. It wasn’t until she heard it speak did she look up, and was temporarily blinded by its brightness. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” That wasn’t Leo. “The… spoils of war…” Clove mused. “…I suppose a vacation would be nice…” Or at least a departure from reality. And with that, Clove vanished as well, in a fit of blinding light.

cansu

Perched atop of a building, Cansu was gazing down upon the glow of a city. If there was one thing about humans that he admired, it was how they desperately tried to build as close to the heavens as they possibly could. With those buildings came the glow that reminded him of the essence of stars. Sadly, with these tall fixtures and their glow of false starlight, it came with the erasure of true stars in the sky. Pollution made the air rotten, the light made the sky brighter, and the stars couldn’t see past it. That was alright, humans weren’t deserving of seeing the beauty of nature anyways. And even if he could see the stars, he wouldn’t be able to. After all, the sky was darkened with rainclouds that threatened to rain over the city. “Good,” Cansu spoke out loud to himself. “The rain can wash away the filth of this world.” Maybe Cansu would make this storm worse. Maybe he’d let it flood the land to be a nuisance to the people living there. Yes, them with their flooded basements, streets, and houses. Let them suffer. The deity didn’t jump when the flame apparition appeared in front of him. Rather, he lazily turned his head towards it, unamused.

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

The Lifebringer, huh? Interesting. He hadn’t had much interaction with them in years. Hundreds of years, perhaps. Ignoring the symptoms of the heat and the ringing, Cansu stood up to his feet. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I accept.” The deity spoke. Maybe this would be fun, after all. A flash of light occurred just as thunder boomed. It began to rain.

eremurus

From sunrise to sunset, Eremurus went from villager to villager, making sure their crops and plants were grown. All in the days work, he supposed. He walked up the stairs, to the temple, letting out a small sigh. He was worn out if he had to be honest. He looked down at his hands, flexing them briefly. He ran his hands through his air, gently rustling the flowers that decorated his antlers. As Eremurus walked past the plants in the area, they bloomed with life. It was only natural after all, it was his power and in his blood. "Eremurus?" A voice called. Eremurus turned around, and smiled weakly. "Joseph." He greeted. "You were gone for quite awhile. Busy day, my lord?" He asked. Eremurus flinched slightly and nodded along. No matter how many times he was referred to with the title, it always sent a chill down his spine. "Yes. I was tending to the village like I was supposed to." He bowed his head. "I am simply returning to my corridors now." "Turning in early?" He took a step forward and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I see, go rest, good job today." Joseph congratulated. "I will see you in the morning then." With that, he headed off down the hall. "Of course." Eremurus nodded. He watched the man go down the hall and sighed heavily. He was just exhausted, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. With that out of the way, Eremurus continued down and headed to his room. As soon as he stepped in, he shut the door. He leaned against it for a few moments, the flowers in his antlers shifting into rhododendrons. "What..? Why did they-" The overwhelming sense of dryness and heat enveloped him as he thrusted his head backwards, slamming it against the door as he felt his heartbeat increase. No. Not again. He was fine. He did a good job today. He helped the flowers grow and-

"“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

Eremurus squinted at the flash of light and he stared. "What-?" He asked. In a brilliant flash, he disappeared leaving only rhododendrons flower petals on the floor.

evan

Captivated by his latest project, Evan hardly paid any attention to his father entering his room to place dinner at his desk. He was deeply invested in his invention. He looked from a blueprint on his desk that he designed up over the course of a few weeks. In his hands, he morphed a piece of metal, shaping it into the shell of the device that would hold all of the fragile wiring and other interior parts. It was a project not only to pass the time indoors, but to get a head start before the start of the new school year later that fall. Having his powers already gave him a head start on other students, and at least he knew what he wanted to do with himself which was good, but if he didn’t have a sharp mind, then what was the benefit of these powers? Evan would continue to study and learn. After all, he had to make his dad proud. His dad worked hard to provide for him. After some time, he set the piece of tech back on his desk and let out a sigh, leaning back against his seat. A break sounded nice. As he was about to get up, that’s when the heat began. The boy was shaken in his seat, and slowly, he tugged at the collar of his shirt as breathing became difficult. What was going on? What was this feeling? He had never felt this way before, was he dying?! Was this what dying felt like?! “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel.” Evan jumped as the presence of a flaming figure appeared in front of him. The boy rolled his chair back as he put his hands up to cover his face. He barely let out a cry of surprise as his throat began to close up on him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to comprehend that there was a figure who was on fire in front of him. No, no, no, he wasn’t losing his mind, this- Maybe he had fallen asleep at his desk! Yes, and he was simply dreaming! But why did the burning hurt? Why did it feel so real? Why did it feel like there was incredible pressure on his chest? Why couldn’t he breathe? His mouth opened. He tried to call for his father, his big brother, anyone who could help him out of this situation. From the tips of his fingers, he could feel his steel beginning to form over his skin as a protective shield, but it only made the heat worse. Evan dropped to his knees and curled up into a ball. The heat was nauseating when he was used to the cold all of his life. This was agonizing. Despite how hard it was to breathe, the boy began to hyperventilate as terror consumed his entire being.

“The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

“St-stop-” Evan managed out through his tears. His hands fumbled for his bag of metal- Maybe he could fight and protect himself- But he felt so weak- His voice was barely that of a whisper. “Pl-please…” The heat got worse and worse. Ringing filled his ears. The metal continued to spread. As the boy lost consciousness, he was able to hear the door to his room get slammed open seconds before a brilliant light flashed. With that, Evan Rei was gone.

armand

Armand slumped forward on the balcony, watching the people below go about their nights. Smoke rising from his cigarette, he let out a sigh. A total lack of prospects. Trying his luck with his own kind was not an option. It hasn’t been in a very long time. Even if he was single, no one would want anything to do with him. That alone made this “vacation” extremely dull. Hail! The fish coughed violently, caught off guard by the sudden voice. A strange feeling was surrounding him. Something warm. Something… dry. The cigarette fell from his hand as he backed away from the edge of the railing. Something was very very wrong. His vision blurred, disorienting him further as the reflective light of the distant water washed over him in conjunction with the strange sensation. Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. Well, now he was a goner. He further backs away to the point of falling as the flaming figure appears. It was much too hot. Much too dry. He was suffocating. All he could see was a bright light, reminiscent of a torch blazing in the night. A tournament? Was he hearing things? And what was a Lifebringer or a Halcyon? The warning of death seemed to fall to the wayside as the man already felt as if death had arrived. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer? Drenched in sweat, Armand found himself at a loss for words. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he couldn’t say anything. “Wh-wha,, what’s,, hap-ppening,,” As the words escaped his mouth, the pain became overwhelming. The final thing he registered before losing his consciousness was the light growing impossibly bright.

zhi-yin

--------- The apothecary was quieter than usual. Normally, there would be a host of activity both inside and out, but today seemed to be exceptionally calm. This was good news for Zhi-Yin, who was itching to experiment with the new “gifts” he had received. “Let’s see, my dear sister said this one was called a lavender. Beautiful purple color.” He moved around the room, looking for a particular scroll before finding it and rolling it out on the table. “Lavender, lavender, here it is. Lavender, observed to have calming effects when consumed by user. Secondary use in helping heal afflictions related to the skin.” He hovered over the lavender blossoms, giving them a good sniff. “Lovely aroma.” He knelt at the table after procuring a blank scroll of paper, brush and ink. He picked up the brush, carefully writing on the page. ‘Lavender. Aromatic flora suitable for incense and perfume. Will attempt to create a topical salve to treat skin afflictions. May also infuse well with existing salves and cosmetics.’ Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war.

1:52 AM

As soon as Zhi-Yin lifted the brush, a strange sensation washed over him. His grip on the brush loosened, letting it fall onto the fresh page, splattering ink everywhere. He doubled over, gripping the ends of the table as he attempted to process what had just washed over him. It couldn’t be the flowers. Nothing in the writings had described such a sensation, especially with such a delayed reaction. But he couldn’t deny what was happening. His mouth dried, his face flushed as his breathing became heavy. It had become unbearably hot in the room. As the heat rose, a bright light shined in front of him, a flaming figure appearing before him. Even his glasses could not shield his eyes from the sight as he flinched instinctively to avoid its gaze. And its words. Its talk of honor and bloodshed. None of it made sense. The Nascent Lifebringer? The Halcyon Citadel? All of this was as foreign as the language it was conveyed in. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer? Words so foreign yet he understood them perfectly. Well, understood is an overestimation of his comprehension of the situation. “What are you saying? Who are you?” He regretted his words the moment they escaped his mouth. With the rising, unbearable heat, he knew his fate was sealed.

lacey

Lacey was in her room, trying on many outfits for the upcoming reunion. Fretting over her choice in what would make the best choice. Mainly also trying to distract herself from another failed blind date. It becoming more and more clear that she'd either need to make up a lie about a recent break up, or just try and own being single. She means, it's not like she didn't have a lot of expectations on her already. Luckily, her phone alarm went off. Reminding her to take her meds. Oh, that would explain why she was more anxious than usual. She already forgot yesterday so she really needed to take her dose before she forgot again. Quickly taking her meds, she was about to put it down when suddenly-

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

She shrieked in surprise, turning around and throwing a small ball of light at the flaming figure in self defense because there was not supposed to be anyone else in here. The heat from it was suffocating, feeling the hot hair enter her lungs making her cough. Eyes tearing up as she tries to get the heat out of her. "What the fuck-?" Before she even could properly curse out the figure, Lacey was overwhelmed. Her sight going white. The noise of metallic ringing blaring in her ears and the heat almost asking her think it was going to burn her from the inside out, she passed out. Disappearing in a flash as the room was left empty. Untouched. As if only the wind softly fluttering though the cracked open bedroom window had been the only thing there all along.

enya

Enya tries her absolute hardest not to let her annoyance show as she clicks the button to turn her webcam back on. She’d already stayed on the Zoom call for a good extra fifteen minutes—showing up ten minutes late to that was frankly insulting. The project group on the other side makes muttered apologies as they share their screen to a half finished presentation. She’s not really sure how she even gets through the meeting coherently, but she does. Somehow. Once they’re gone with more correction notes than they had slides, Enya finally ends the office hour call and lets her head thunk back against the headboard of her bed. Who would’ve thought being stuck at home with the fate of your grad program hanging in the balance would mean more work? She wrinkles her nose at the somehow steadily growing pile of ungraded lab reports next to her laptop—those while have to wait until after food, she decides. Slowly, Enya shifts her legs to the side of the bed, then sits up with a dull wince as the burns beneath the bandages wrapped around her arm stretch uncomfortably. The black bracelet, for lack of a better word, around her ankle beeps softly. Stupid fucking annoying as hell thing. Christ, she can’t wait til it’s gone. Staying at home over break is one thing, but being forced to stay home and also go to classes? Hell. Her mom isn’t home, luckily, so there’s no one to judge her for eating cold pasta for the fifth day in a row. There is a note with a reminder to wash the dishes, with a cartoonish little plate wearing sunglasses, but that’s a job for later tonight. Enya heads back upstairs, scavenging complete, and settles back down on her bed to pointedly ignore her grading even more. Entirely locked in to the baseball game on the TV, Enya doesn’t actually notice the growing heat until all of a sudden, it’s almost too much to bear. And for her, that’s saying a lot.

10:31 PM

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. Her fork clatters in her bowl as it dumps pasta across her sheets, the smell of charring fabric beginning to feel the room. What the hell? Lifebringer?

The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war.

The blood drains from her face. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” “Wh— Fuck off—” The only strange things left in the room after that are a fried laptop, spilled pasta, and the distinct smell of smoke.

aarni

Aarni was riding across the spring meadows, letting Firefly stretch her neck low and snack on an occasional flower and herb. It was a quietl, calm evening. The air felt slightly chilly, but the sun shone golden orange above the pastures and trees. Blackbird was singing. Suddenly, the bird went silent, and Firefly swung her head up, ears upright and nostrils flared wide. Aarni gathered her reins just in time for a fiery figure to appear out of nowhere, causing the mare to rear up, neighing. "Whoa!" Aarni huffed, holding on in the saddle and trying to calm down the horse, while he was fighting the urge to spur her into a full gallop, away from this blazing phantasm. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” Aarni struggled to keep Firefly in check, as she backed away, snorting, throwing her head up and down, and pacing sideways. He could hardly process the words, but one of them drew his attention. "Lifebringer?" he gasped. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he should have ridden away. When he spoke, he felt his heart pound even faster, and a scorching heat wrapped around him. He yelled in pain and fright, until he and the mysterious figure were gone. The dark horse reared again, neighing a long and sharp cry, and rushed into a gallop, charging into the wilderness in panic.

seki

Seki was snoozing on the couch, tired after a day full of work and excitable children. Now Riki was telling a goodnight story to the kids, and Seki was waiting for him to finish so they could cuddle for a bit before sleeping. Suddenly, a brightly burning figure snapped the eeveon awake. “Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?” Seki stared at the fire guy in confusion while it talked, and blinked a few times. "Uhh, now wait a minute. You have the wrong guy, probably, and you can't just teleport into someone's house--." Already as they spoke, they felt how something was badly wrong. And away they went, in a burning flash of pain.

kal

Soar higher, and higher, and higher. Those words rang throughout Kal’s head on the daily. All he needed to do was soar higher, then, he’d truly feel alive. No matter how high he soared, how far he climbed, how long he ran for, it was never enough. Maybe one day, it would be. No matter. He had a stream to start. “BOYS! Today, the plan is simple!” A camera focused on the face of a young man with dark hair, grey eyes, a scar over the bridge of his nose, and a bright, sharp smile. Behind him stood a large, intimidating mountain. The young man motioned to the mountain with a wave of his hand. “Today, we are tackling The Nose, El Capitan, for the second time!” The camera focused on the mountain, zooming into ledges, cracks, and other indentations in the mountain. The views of the live stream continued to rise as it continued. Comments filtered in along with gifted subs. The camera moved to focus on his face. “Hi, I’m Kal Valdez, and the fastest time for this climb is my previous time of forty-two minutes and six seconds, and before then, it was an hour, fifty-eight minutes, and seven seconds. I’m going to climb this in less than that.” Kal attached the Go-Pro to his chest with duct tape, giving his audience a POV shot of the climb. He slipped on his rock-climbing gloves, pressed a kiss to his dog tags, and found his grip on the mountain. With a deep breath, he began his ascent as a burst of adrenaline filled his veins. He could feel it spread to his extremities, and his hands were just itching to climb. The pressure in the back of his knees demanded him to jump. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. Kal moved swiftly and effectively up the mountain, almost losing himself entirely in the climb. It was far too easy to climb with the use of his abilities giving him extra bursts of strength. At some points, he found himself simply leaping from ledge to ledge at high speeds, almost as if this was simply a training wall.

7:12 PM

It was easy. Too easy. It was fun, but was it much of a challenge? No. Not quite. In no time, Kal made it to the top and let out a deep breath. The air was thinner up there and it made his head slightly light, but it didn’t bother him, not when he had this view. He could see the vast area, the miles and miles of trees, the distant towns, the sun shining over the land, and the way a nearby lake looked so small from where he was. “Well, here we are, everyone. We made the climb in-” He checked his Fitbit. “Fifteen minutes and thirty seconds! Woo, we knocked that record out of the ballpark! And I see that we made our donation goal a while ago, thank you so much to everyone who donated! As a reminder, any and all donations are going towards our charity of choice this week. Thank you everyone for helping us reach that goal, and thank you to those who tuned in for this stream, your support is always appreciated.” Kal remained quiet as he looked around the area, offering his viewers a look at the view for a moment of serenity. Ah, this was nice.  “This stream’s gone on for a good while now. I’ll probably head offline as I make my way down. You’re watching KalValParkour, thanks for joining me on this climb. I’ll catch ya on the flip side!” With that, Kal ended his stream and took a seat along the ledge of the mountain. Just then, a figure of fire and flame appeared beside him, startling the young man. He hardly noticed the intense heat and how hard it was to breathe since he had made a physically rough climb. 

“Hail! Your hallowed presence is requested by the Nascent Lifebringer at the Halcyon Citadel. The purpose of this honor is simple: you are to participate in a tournament of bloodshed, conquest and victory. The fallen will be awarded with death; the victor: with the spoils of war. You have been chosen, deliberately, for the purpose. It is now your own divine calling. Will you answer?”

  “Dude, you’re on fire!” Kal quickly undid his water bottle and splashed it on the figure. The young man disappeared as the water evaporated into steam.

kenji

Kenji had really hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Things were going good. Great, actually. Life had finally resumed some semblance of normal, the kind that he thought he had lost forever close to thirty years ago. And then… Well. He grimaces at the two multicolored eyes reflected back at him in the dingy hostel mirror. Things had progressed. It started out small: one day, about..maybe….fifteen or so ish years ago now? He’d woken up to find the veins in his eyes a dark, sickly purple. They’d spread, slowly, until the whites of his eyes had turned black and his eyes themselves glowed more often than not. Then, a year or two later, he’d noticed his tattoo—dragon wings, that he’d never gotten—had stretched and unfurled all the way down the back of his shoulders and upper arms. Again, concerning, but not particularly harmful. His horns, he had expected, but he’d at least thought they would stop growing. What had been tiny, slow-forming nubs originally had grown exponentially, curling at the sides of his head and throwing off his balance for months. When the real wings had broken through for the first time about five years ago, leaving him bleeding and barely able to move around without pain until they receded, Kenji finally decided that enough was enough. It had taken a while to go through his options. He visited Nadia, then Lilo, then Eris, and all three confirmed they weren’t facing anything similar. Amara was uncharacteristically both excited and silent on whatever was happening. In the end, it was visiting his parents less than a year ago that had finally cleared things up. They almost seemed apologetic at first. But he’d found their bookshelves, and notes, and scatterings of long-ago plans very clearly not been abandoned after his death. He’d left for home without another word that night. (edited)

11:00 PM

That left one final option. Tomorrow he’d arrive, or at the very least, set out and hope that he could make it there without his own body tearing itself apart trying to stop him. He already was barely keeping Amara under lock and key—willingly entering their place of power without losing himself would be more of a miracle than what could come after. Not that he’s sure anything can even be done. It’d been years. But if this all was truly meant to be inevitable, then… Perhaps she was the only one who might be able to combat it. She could help. Albanes could help. He just had to trust that.