fascinating rhythms [open]

[rudelanguage]

WHO: Knife (as Antigone and Pending), ota
WHEN: August/September, post-mission 10
WHERE: assorted areas (marked in prompts)
WHAT: quite a number of efforts to stave off misery and madness
NOTES\WARNINGS: mentions of blood/violence, some suicidal ideation


as pending:

o1. pantomime thread [location: leafless valley, richland]
[cords have been strung between a few pairs of tree trunks within this verdant area of Etraya, and hung upon them are assorted lengths of fabrics and clothing in various states of repair (or disrepair).

if this sight is not piquing curiosity enough already, perhaps then noticing the grungy half-orc moving amid them, picking at this or that, making alterations, mending, merging, manipulating...fashion is happening here.]



o2. the hurt dumpster [location: near ebbets field, dewpoint]
[THOKK.

TNNK.

impact sounds on metal ring out off-rhythm somewhere in the night. following the bouncing noise leads toward a trio of misplaced dumpsters lined up and painted with colored markings of varying sizes and patterns. the bodies of these receptacles have been dented and skewered - some implements still sticking within the body - and the perpetrator is some yards away, flipping a bread knife in his hand.

he catches it by the handle after a flip and turns his attention to whomever is encroaching, eyes glinting in the dark like some nocturnal animal's. they...seem chill, but inwardly Knife is screeching like an angry nocturnal animal.

Can I fucking catch a goddamn break here WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?

Pending is gracefully holding that thought to see what's up with this interloper.]

---

as antigone:

o1. binge after reading[location: kwik trip, nova city]

Scuze.

[peculiar scraping that had begun an aisle over has approached this one, and now a basket dragged across the linoleum is stopped near one's feet. it was hauled by the little gal, stuffed to spilling over, but she's still going. she'll get another fucking basket, watch her!

but first. YOU, tall one.

she points up.] Gimme some of that stuff up there. I can't reach.



o2. antigone of a fall [location: the library, alexandria; cw: suicidal ideation]
[she's already scaled this thing twice before and found the rooftop areas suitable for some magical mapping, so this is...sort of old hat. but while repetition is good for memory, it's also bad for the mood. this shit is just...killing time. killing Knife.

This doesn't fucking matter.

but she's doing it anyway.

except one missed handhold leads to a slip, a skid, and then the little kitsune is dropping from the side of the fourth story.

one of two things can happen. either:

-Antigone just lets it happen, and someone with the reflexes and capability sees and subsequently does a cool rescue (damsel strat)

or

-Antigone snaps the fuck out of it, twists herself and casts a Misty Step...directly onto someone to cushion her fall (this is advanced crash-into-hello tech)

player's choice!]

Comments

Pending - Pantomime

[will_chase_balls]

[Dwayne made a habit of running through the woods to stave off the boredom that had become much more common since his arrival in this place. He sometimes comes to hunt, sometimes to just enjoy nature and playfully chase squirrels and explore the wilderness, but usually on his trips out here, regardless of what he was doing, the things he encountered were just typical nature things. When he spots a bunch of cords hanging between the trees with fabric draped from them the sight seems completely out of place, which naturally means he has to go check it out.

Moving closer, it's not long before Dwayne, dressed in his typical leather armor despite being fully in his wolfman form, is standing there watching the orc work.]

[rudelanguage]

[Pending's in the process of manipulating a seam to accommodate for some new fabric to serve as a pocket (rare is the time Knife's found reason to not have more secret pockets), needle between his lips while checking that he'd put enough space in there t--]

...

[he stills, hearing the atypical nature sounds that foretells an encroaching body, slowly turning his head to leer suspiciously. externally, he's stoic and stern, inwardly Knife is vibrating.

What the fuck. What the fuck this place has lycanthropes? The crazy kind or the ones with brains? Fucking hell. It's broad fucking daylight you goddamn--

...Wait don't druids do that too. DO they? Fuck. I don't know. They eat dirt and turn into animals or something...

this is all very useful fuss that very usefully keeps Pending still and staring, waiting for the wolfman to make a move to react to.]

[will_chase_balls]

Oh, you can keep going. I was just chasing some squirrels and I figured I'd check out what was going on over here.

[Dwayne's voice is much deeper with more of a rumble to it in this form, but he's still enough of a humanoid wolf to be able to speak. At least this might make it clearer whether he's the crazy kind or one with brains. Well, as far as Dwayne ever has brains, at least.]

Pantomime

[repaintress]

[ It is sometimes necessary to get away from the sterility of the apartments and many of the other buildings in Etraya. Paris is hardly a bastion of nature, but too much of Etraya is artificial in a way that Clea finds unnerving compared to buildings of stone, wood, and metal and cobblestone streets.

So she is wandering, sketchbook and pencils tucked in a bag, through the Leafless Valley, observing the fauna and flora with careful eyes and delicate hands, until she finds someone... sewing? Mending?

The artist watches the orc curiously from a respectful distance, eyeing the clothing and trying to decide what she thinks of it. It's quite different from anything else she's seen and that is, itself, enough to make it interesting.

Pulling out the sketchbook, Clea regrets she hasn't brought any colors. She opens to a blank page and begins to draw, tilting her head at one particular outfit dangling in the breeze. ]

Those aren't colors I would put together.

[ She murmurs it softly to herself. She would not put them together and yet... ]

[rudelanguage]

[she's upwind, and it takes a bit for Pending's nose to get scent of a person nearby. he'd have disregarded the sense were it not for double-taking and seeing her shape just as she's up to mumbling through her sketching.

for a heartbeat, he goes statue-still before losing the sense of immediate threat, and only then does he scowl as the words process.

Everyone's a fuckin' critic, huh?]

So?

[repaintress]

[ She recognizes that posture. It's the way she tenses whenever the house makes a noise, whenever she worries someone might be coming to do them harm. She notes it but does not change her behavior or demeanor.

Nor does she find the scowl dissuading. ]

It is an interesting combination.

[ And she does mean 'interesting'. Clea does not bother veiling her insults. ]

My thinking has been too constricted.

[ Different colors look best on different people, and there is a wider variety of palettes here to see. Therefore, it makes sense there would be a wider variety of acceptable color combinations. It isn't as though he's putting a light brown next to a navy or a blue black. ]

the hurt dumpster

[brat]

( he recognizes the face, because of course robin does. but his confusion over what pending is getting up to is enough to have him pause in place for a moment, watching up until the moment pending turns around and robin -

well. his hands are empty. there are no weapons visibly on him, but he's still tipping his head to the side and squinting at the knife because, )

Perhaps if you aim it directly into an eyesocket that'll do the trick. Otherwise, I can't see this going the direction you intend for it to.

( bread knives aren't particularly sharp. and only one of them is wearing kevlar. )

[rudelanguage]

...

[the small, screechy creature is back. Knife did a terrible job repackaging and sorting all the bullshit from Earth-2, but he does remember the prybar and the yelling and the bitching.]

What do you know about intention? [all they saw seemed to be pure impulse on display, back then.]

[brat]

What do you know about throwing knives?

( because he isn't answering that question, but he can give another question for a question, in the snarkiest tone possible. )

antigone of a fall

[oblige]

[ As luck would have it, Dion is out on his own self-assigned little task of the day. He'd paid a visit to the library, never having enough books to devour, and is making his way back to the apartents when he sees a familiar vibrant pink figure tumbling through the air.

There's no time for thought. Dion drops the books (forgive him his sin...) and bolts toward the tumbling form. When he leaps, it's with a gust of wind that sends leaves skittering about on the pavement, launching right up into the air.

As though he's done this many times before, Dion catches Antigone midfall. Then he drops, wind tugging at clothes and air alike, pavement rushing toward them...

Only for Dion to land on his feet with such absurd lightness it's as though he simply took a step forward on the ground. He huffs out a tense breath. ]

[rudelanguage]

[this is a lot more jostling and a lot less spine-breaking or skull-shattering than Knife expected, if they're honest.

she cracks open an eye as the rush of wind and sense of gravity's pull vanishes, noting a whole lot of concrete and not a lot of craters. but her feet are still not touching ground? feather fall? no, she's snug in some floral kinda-a--aa--] AaaAAAaA-?!

[it's not so much a yell as a drawn-out vowel being yanked by dawning realization and ongoing confusion as she looks up at a sun-haloed, yellow-headed, not-Soliton-but-maybe-if-you-used-enough-mind-altering-substances guy known as--]

D-DEE?

[oblige]

[ Dragoons are something of a study in gravitational absurdity, don't worry about it.

Dion may be incredibly relieved that he was in the right place at the right time, but it does nothing to keep the concern from his features what he looks at Antigone's face. How in the world did she wind up tumbling from that building?

First, most crucially— ]

Are you all right?

[ He prevented a harsh descent, certainly, but the question bears asking just the same. ]

Pending - Dumpster

[shadowsincryo]

[He is in dragon mode and staring back at Pending. He lifts his bag. The smell of steamed pork dumplings drifts from it.]

Want a break? [He has been wandering around to get used to his shifted awareness and senses. He’d heard the noise while snagging a snack before he went off to wander over the water. Odd but, it helped him with his getting his bearings.]

[rudelanguage]

[Pending is very unapologetic about gawking, and it does paint undue judgment on his face - at least until he recognizes all those altered features as Kaeya (the voice helps more, if we're honest).

he flips his grip to point the blade downward and pocket it.]

I'll eat. Hi.

[it's probably not coincidence that near every damn time they cross paths, Kaeya's got or getting food - to the point that Knife suspects Kaeya went looking for him. as for what, well...they suppose they'll find out.]

[shadowsincryo]

[His voice and eye are the same. Even if he feels ethereal and otherworldly. The sense of the sea around him is muted. The first thing he learned. He opens the bag and takes out the large container. He opens it.]

Hi. How are you? [He has gone looking for his buddy. He considers him such and after last time. Well. He knows a way to keep Pending alright is to pass food to him himself. Up close Kaeya looks battered and some bruising on his neck is barely hidden by his collar.

He looks like someone who went through a long fight.]

antigone's gonna fall (not)

[reincarnesiac]

( Alex was heading to the library to look up recipe books and check on if there were other comics she could recommend to Clive, when: she looks up.

To see someone falling.

When she is not, sadly, the person with a gravity evol, and her resonance can't force people to go up or down or anywhere, unless that's their power. She still runs forward with her arms up and open like she can do jack all about the situation, calling out: )

Oh my stars —

( To get... something? Energy of some kind (it's a spell, Alex) cast, and the little falling person ??? is suddenly right there. Over Alex. Crashing into her.

Weirdly enough, Alex does try to "catch" this falling person even then, though she goes down and immediately loses her breath and knocks her head, providing a wonderful cushion for Antigone (apologies, Antigone, if she's holding on to your arms or torso or whatever to have made sure you didn't bounce off and get hurt) while she cannot, well, breathe. )

[rudelanguage]

[this is not the best application of Misty Step, but it did save Antigone's life once before (when Shadow was an ASSHOLE and DROPPED HER FROM LIKE EIGHTY FEET IN THE AIR for NO REASON). of course, the last time, she had a cushion of foliage to drop into, not a whole-ass person.

not a lot of padding on this one, huh. still, it beats concrete!

she's not loving the arms keeping her from bouncing, though.]

Guh! Agh! N'gahhh! [she starts squirming and kicking immediately.] Get! Off! Leggo!

[reincarnesiac]

( Does that voice sound familiar? Let Alex think about it again after she's able to breathe, dangit, because she's still trying to suck in air. At least her fingers twitch open, a soundless apology on her lips. Sorry.

Her eyes track who just fell on her, all the fur and whatever else, but she's only going to pull in a breath of air once Antigone decides to liberate herself from the cage of Alex's bounce-board impression there on the ground. )

pending as a fashion orc

[thisisontherecord]

( Lois isn't sure what kind of modifications Pending's running through with his various lengths of fabric. She hadn't planned on looking for him today, but what are plans but quickly evolving creatures when trapped in an alien city that mimics parts of cities from other worlds?

She doesn't want a answer for that. Lifting her hand, Lois waves to Pending; a small motion since she's fairly sure he's busy with whatever he's doing. )

Pending! How are you?

[rudelanguage]

[Huh. What. What now.

Pending's head lifts, peeking over the clothesline.

Oh.

Shit...girl. Which girl? Fuck. Uh--

blankly, while holding up a hand partly over the line to be seen:] Hi. Uh. [She wanted suspicious shit or whatever in exchange for knives what the FUCK is her name...!]

Good? What's happening.

[thisisontherecord]

( Lois holds up a paper bag in case he pops around the fabric to see what she's holding. Answer: sandwiches, some kind of veggie straws, and a knife. All in that bag. )

Checking in with you. I hear we should be getting a heads up on whatever new mission's about to hit us soon.

pending - 01

[maximumlegend]

[ .. oh, hey, it's that person.

That's the first thought that goes through Fabian's mind as he spots the half-orc while - very loudly, almost impossible to miss - driving past on his hellish motorcycle. The thought about all the cloth hanging around only comes after that, but something about it is surprising enough that Fabian actually stops his motorcycle for a moment, rather than driving right on by.

He's still sitting on it though as he calls out: ]

Are you doing laundry out here?!

[ Definitely not what the other is doing. But, you know, what else can you expect from a bard jock, right. ]

blows u a kees

[rudelanguage]

[so much for peace and fucking quiet...Pending thought they'd all left the noisy smelly vehicles behind! but apparently not so. even before its driver rolls up, he's scowling at his work, as if doing so would will it the fuck away.

but no. it's. still there. it's not nyooming away.

he glares over his shoulder toward the rider, himself not recognizing its rider...and noticing his mouth moving.

but over the bike noises? hard to tell what that's all about.]

What?

SPLAT

[stresstokens]

[ It's funny, coming back to Etraya after all that time away. He's had some time to get acclimated to being around people again, the movement he can barely catch out of the corner of his eye, the rumble of sound, everything that would have made him twitchy and paranoid when he was on his own despite the complete and utter lack of actual danger that he had faced.

He's trying his best to feel less paranoid, in fact, which is why when he hears a sound from above he decides to tell himself that it's nothing, the groaning of buildings, the sound of wild animals, he's gotta get a grip and --

No, he can't do it. He looks up. He looks up too late. ]

Oh, shit.

[ He thrusts his hands in the air, though whether to try to protect his tender skull or in some ill thought-out attempt to save whoever it is sailing towards him, he can't say. The end result is the same anyhow: a high-pitched squawk escaping Riz as he crumples like a wad of soggy tissue paper to the ground. ]

[rudelanguage]

[being small only helps so much where gravity is concerned. the Misty Step helps a little, but it sure doesn't give anyone much time to brace for shit. when Antigone blinks closer to the ground hoping for green, the hope was for like. shrubbery, not a shrimp!

oh well.]

GNAA-- [thwump.]

...

[...]

Buh...

[ow.

Antigone does a slow roll off the lump she landed on until she's on only her lumps, flat on her back, splayed out.

Why'd that shrub feel so bony...?]