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asgardchrysalis2020-01-17 06:46 pm
asgardmods) wrote in asgardchrysalis2020-01-17 06:46 pm
Entry tags:
- !event log,
- borderlands - rhys strongfork,
- downton abbey - mary crawley,
- good omens - anthony j. crowley,
- good omens - aziraphale,
- hakuouki - chizuru yukimura,
- homestuck - terezi pyrope,
- kingdom hearts - sora,
- marvel cinematic - peter quill,
- outlander - lord john grey,
- star trek - james t. kirk,
- tolkien - turgon
EVENT LOG: (UN)SAFETY MEASURES
Who: ANYONE leaving Asgard to build an outpost
What: the (Un)Safety Measures event
When: January 14 - 22
Where: three days north of Asgard's kingdom
Warnings: claustrophobia
On January 14, the gods summon everyone to the castle ground to announce that Asgard is moving out to face the newest threat on the horizon. what seems like the whole of Asgard prepares and departs the kingdom. From the youngest to the oldest of the able and willing, all hands are needed as this mission serves two highly critical purposes: to defeat the current threat and to build outposts that can be used as midway safe houses on missions like these.
Similar to the last time Asgard embarked on such a journey, a long train of wagons guided by the eight-legged horses and several of the gods passes through the thicc barrier of the forest into what appears to be a blinding light for any that remain in the city. As the caravan breaks through the treeline, that brightness barely fades as a blistering sun gleams off of what appears to be a solid landscape of pure ice. An odd chill travels from the top of your head to your toes as Honir calls out "Hold onto your limbs!" in a strangely cheerful warning to match the unusual warmth that envelops you afterwards.
Over the course of the next three days, the caravan travels northward through the strange landscape of Yggdrasil in winter. It seems like ice and snow rise and fall at whim, clear skies turning into a swarming blizzard from one stretch of land to another. It's like it can't quite decide what type of winter it would like to be, and the caravan is left to navigate and make camp through this fitful weather. On January 16, the caravan halts as the gods declare this to be the safest point between the kingdom and where the Qliphoth is growing. Construction of the outpost will begin here in the morning, as those moving on to destroy the wretched tree prepare to confront the demons of another world.
On the morning of January 17, everyone sets upon their separate tasks as those prepared for combat continue onward to travel. All of the wagons and most of the horses are left behind at the budding settlement - the terrain ahead is far too treacherous to risk losing them along the way. But all thoughts of demons and infernal trees seem distant compared to the pressing immediacy of the task at hand.
The gods weren’t wrong: This is likely the safest point between Asgard and whatever mayhem is occurring farther north. Tucked safely out of the elements in shallow valley between two small mountains, the outpost benefits strongly from the sun peeking out over the ridge as it balms the chilly sting of the wind with a diffuse sort of warmth. It’s a warmth that Wanderers will need as they set to work constructing a fallback point for the unimaginable things that those who continued might endure. There’s a job for everyone, big or small, from building temporary housing to assembling defenses to taking stock of all the medical supplies they’ve brought along for the trip.
Honir, meanwhile, has chosen to stay and protect the outpost. Though he doesn’t seem to actively dwell on it, those who knew him before the Battle of Wights can likely tell that he was humbled considerably by his experience. It more than suits the needs of the moment, as he and any willing volunteers scout the immediate area outside of the mountainous inlet to make sure that the outpost is safe.
Alas, even Honir doesn’t think to account for threats from below.
( ! ) content warnings: claustrophobia
On the morning of January 18, your characters will wake up to discover that some of you are missing. Surely they were there when you went to sleep, but an odd number of Wanderers and native Asgardians alike seem to have vanished in the night. Searching the encampment and the surrounding area turns up nothing of use, awkwardly delaying construction between the need to finish this project within a few days and the absence of those that came to build it. A scant few more disappear suddenly throughout the day without anyone seeing or hearing anything more than a vague crunching sound and then silence.
As it turns out, answers come with the still of the night: Those who find themselves awake near the edges of camp hear a faint but unmistakable shouting, coming from beneath their very feet. Characters that have disappeared up to this point are buried underground beneath a thick layer of solid earth and stone. More people begin disappearing, this time in plain sight as stone shifts and pulls them into the dirt. Screams fill the campground as people try to save their friends or find the source of the chaos… Not to mention the shouts of alarm as those who try to dig too violently find the ground itself throwing things back at them, betraying this as the work of some sort of subterraneal creature.
But even as that chaos erupts around them, most of the Wanderers seem to vie for a peaceful resolution (based on the comments on January’s event post), and in fact, some go so far as to attempt to calm those reacting violently.
At first, it doesn’t seem to matter.
But then, the earth starts to shift. Those who have yet to be unearthed seem to be spat back out onto the surface, gently and with what could almost be considered deference. And then comes a gnomelike figure, about the size of a football with stone-brown skin and hair down to his feet, crawling up from a hole that didn’t seem to exist before he had need of it.
“I believe an apology is in order,” he says, twisting at a corner of his beard. “It has been quite an age since the Steinnbregðr have seen humans in these parts, and with such magics.”
“We just wanted to take a look atcha,” comes a younger voice not far behind him. It’s now that you see a number of other figures peering up out a dozen more inexplicable holes in the earth, though these new arrivals keep themselves hidden from the nose up. The girl who spoke had popped up a bit in her excitement, but she too ducks back into her hole under scrutiny, tacking on a - “Gorbit says you brought gods.”
The others all murmur with quiet agreement, some nodding, others looking nervous. They, too, just wanted to look at these humans. To learn.
“We made you fear for your lives and your kin, yet none of you harmed us,” the first gnome continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. He looks from Wanderer to Wanderer, from face to face, and even in his generous age his eyes glow with an almost childlike intrigue. “Do you think it possible that we might... try again? From the start, with quite a bit less borrowing of your people.”
The Steinnbregðr people have extended an olive branch. If rejected, they’ll disappear back into their holes, nary to be seen again. If accepted, they’ll answer Wanderers’ questions, share their knowledge of local resources, and assist in assembling the outpost to the best of their ability… All the while taking every opportunity to observe the Wanderers with wide inquisitive eyes, or even tug at clothing to ask a burning question about the Wanderers, the gods, Asgard, or humans as a general concept.
(Though we won’t be outright NPCing the Steinnbregðr, there will be a top-level in which we’ll gladly summarize or handwave interactions with your characters, answering questions and perhaps even forming a budding CR.)
With the Qliphoth destroyed and the outpost established as best it can be, the caravan makes its way back to Asgard on January 20. While the load is a bit lighter for the supplies it took to build and battle their way back home, some carry new burdens and memories of the strange happenings that took place here. The magic the gods warned of has shown its powerful capacity to overwrite the landscape of Yggdrasil, and new creatures in the world are becoming increasingly aware of the Wanderers' presence.
All along the three day journey back to the kingdom, the gods and the natives can't help but discuss and speculate what this means for the future. A nervous energy travels back to the city with them in spite of their victories, the vast and mercurial landscape of Yggdrasil providing a frigid reminder of their isolation at the heart of it. Asgard may come to contend with the fact that they are safer within their kingdom and the veil of obscurity - and the fact that the veil has been lifted, leaving an open window for them to see out into the dangers of the world, and for the world to look back at them.
[ OOC NOTES: This is the event log for the (Un)Safety Measures event! Your characters are in the process of building an outpost to serve as safe housing for ventures beyond the kingdom when a clan of rock gnomes begins "stealing" characters underground for observation. Because the majority of you elected to proceed with caution instead of aggression, you were able to entreat with the gnomes to understand their presence and motivations, and enough of you actively sought to make peace with them that they have become tentative allies to Asgard for the time being. If you want to discuss interactions or ask questions about the gnomes, you can do so in this thread below. If you have any other questions or concerns, please feel free to hit us up on the mod contact page! Enjoy! ]
What: the (Un)Safety Measures event
When: January 14 - 22
Where: three days north of Asgard's kingdom
Warnings: claustrophobia
❧ january 14-16: departure.
On January 14, the gods summon everyone to the castle ground to announce that Asgard is moving out to face the newest threat on the horizon. what seems like the whole of Asgard prepares and departs the kingdom. From the youngest to the oldest of the able and willing, all hands are needed as this mission serves two highly critical purposes: to defeat the current threat and to build outposts that can be used as midway safe houses on missions like these.
Similar to the last time Asgard embarked on such a journey, a long train of wagons guided by the eight-legged horses and several of the gods passes through the thicc barrier of the forest into what appears to be a blinding light for any that remain in the city. As the caravan breaks through the treeline, that brightness barely fades as a blistering sun gleams off of what appears to be a solid landscape of pure ice. An odd chill travels from the top of your head to your toes as Honir calls out "Hold onto your limbs!" in a strangely cheerful warning to match the unusual warmth that envelops you afterwards.
Over the course of the next three days, the caravan travels northward through the strange landscape of Yggdrasil in winter. It seems like ice and snow rise and fall at whim, clear skies turning into a swarming blizzard from one stretch of land to another. It's like it can't quite decide what type of winter it would like to be, and the caravan is left to navigate and make camp through this fitful weather. On January 16, the caravan halts as the gods declare this to be the safest point between the kingdom and where the Qliphoth is growing. Construction of the outpost will begin here in the morning, as those moving on to destroy the wretched tree prepare to confront the demons of another world.
❧ january 17-18: setting up camp.
On the morning of January 17, everyone sets upon their separate tasks as those prepared for combat continue onward to travel. All of the wagons and most of the horses are left behind at the budding settlement - the terrain ahead is far too treacherous to risk losing them along the way. But all thoughts of demons and infernal trees seem distant compared to the pressing immediacy of the task at hand.
The gods weren’t wrong: This is likely the safest point between Asgard and whatever mayhem is occurring farther north. Tucked safely out of the elements in shallow valley between two small mountains, the outpost benefits strongly from the sun peeking out over the ridge as it balms the chilly sting of the wind with a diffuse sort of warmth. It’s a warmth that Wanderers will need as they set to work constructing a fallback point for the unimaginable things that those who continued might endure. There’s a job for everyone, big or small, from building temporary housing to assembling defenses to taking stock of all the medical supplies they’ve brought along for the trip.
Honir, meanwhile, has chosen to stay and protect the outpost. Though he doesn’t seem to actively dwell on it, those who knew him before the Battle of Wights can likely tell that he was humbled considerably by his experience. It more than suits the needs of the moment, as he and any willing volunteers scout the immediate area outside of the mountainous inlet to make sure that the outpost is safe.
Alas, even Honir doesn’t think to account for threats from below.
❧ january 19: hidden intentions.
( ! ) content warnings: claustrophobia
On the morning of January 18, your characters will wake up to discover that some of you are missing. Surely they were there when you went to sleep, but an odd number of Wanderers and native Asgardians alike seem to have vanished in the night. Searching the encampment and the surrounding area turns up nothing of use, awkwardly delaying construction between the need to finish this project within a few days and the absence of those that came to build it. A scant few more disappear suddenly throughout the day without anyone seeing or hearing anything more than a vague crunching sound and then silence.
As it turns out, answers come with the still of the night: Those who find themselves awake near the edges of camp hear a faint but unmistakable shouting, coming from beneath their very feet. Characters that have disappeared up to this point are buried underground beneath a thick layer of solid earth and stone. More people begin disappearing, this time in plain sight as stone shifts and pulls them into the dirt. Screams fill the campground as people try to save their friends or find the source of the chaos… Not to mention the shouts of alarm as those who try to dig too violently find the ground itself throwing things back at them, betraying this as the work of some sort of subterraneal creature.
But even as that chaos erupts around them, most of the Wanderers seem to vie for a peaceful resolution (based on the comments on January’s event post), and in fact, some go so far as to attempt to calm those reacting violently.
At first, it doesn’t seem to matter.
But then, the earth starts to shift. Those who have yet to be unearthed seem to be spat back out onto the surface, gently and with what could almost be considered deference. And then comes a gnomelike figure, about the size of a football with stone-brown skin and hair down to his feet, crawling up from a hole that didn’t seem to exist before he had need of it.
“I believe an apology is in order,” he says, twisting at a corner of his beard. “It has been quite an age since the Steinnbregðr have seen humans in these parts, and with such magics.”
“We just wanted to take a look atcha,” comes a younger voice not far behind him. It’s now that you see a number of other figures peering up out a dozen more inexplicable holes in the earth, though these new arrivals keep themselves hidden from the nose up. The girl who spoke had popped up a bit in her excitement, but she too ducks back into her hole under scrutiny, tacking on a - “Gorbit says you brought gods.”
The others all murmur with quiet agreement, some nodding, others looking nervous. They, too, just wanted to look at these humans. To learn.
“We made you fear for your lives and your kin, yet none of you harmed us,” the first gnome continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. He looks from Wanderer to Wanderer, from face to face, and even in his generous age his eyes glow with an almost childlike intrigue. “Do you think it possible that we might... try again? From the start, with quite a bit less borrowing of your people.”
The Steinnbregðr people have extended an olive branch. If rejected, they’ll disappear back into their holes, nary to be seen again. If accepted, they’ll answer Wanderers’ questions, share their knowledge of local resources, and assist in assembling the outpost to the best of their ability… All the while taking every opportunity to observe the Wanderers with wide inquisitive eyes, or even tug at clothing to ask a burning question about the Wanderers, the gods, Asgard, or humans as a general concept.
(Though we won’t be outright NPCing the Steinnbregðr, there will be a top-level in which we’ll gladly summarize or handwave interactions with your characters, answering questions and perhaps even forming a budding CR.)
❧ january 20-22: return.
With the Qliphoth destroyed and the outpost established as best it can be, the caravan makes its way back to Asgard on January 20. While the load is a bit lighter for the supplies it took to build and battle their way back home, some carry new burdens and memories of the strange happenings that took place here. The magic the gods warned of has shown its powerful capacity to overwrite the landscape of Yggdrasil, and new creatures in the world are becoming increasingly aware of the Wanderers' presence.
All along the three day journey back to the kingdom, the gods and the natives can't help but discuss and speculate what this means for the future. A nervous energy travels back to the city with them in spite of their victories, the vast and mercurial landscape of Yggdrasil providing a frigid reminder of their isolation at the heart of it. Asgard may come to contend with the fact that they are safer within their kingdom and the veil of obscurity - and the fact that the veil has been lifted, leaving an open window for them to see out into the dangers of the world, and for the world to look back at them.
[ OOC NOTES: This is the event log for the (Un)Safety Measures event! Your characters are in the process of building an outpost to serve as safe housing for ventures beyond the kingdom when a clan of rock gnomes begins "stealing" characters underground for observation. Because the majority of you elected to proceed with caution instead of aggression, you were able to entreat with the gnomes to understand their presence and motivations, and enough of you actively sought to make peace with them that they have become tentative allies to Asgard for the time being. If you want to discuss interactions or ask questions about the gnomes, you can do so in this thread below. If you have any other questions or concerns, please feel free to hit us up on the mod contact page! Enjoy! ]
no subject
"Let's go back to the tent," she continues. She's honestly had enough of gnomes and digging to last her a lifetime. If the creatures want to look at humans, that's fine, but two of them won't be she and John.
no subject
"If you do insist," he says, inclining his head to her in submission. "I don't suppose that all that digging has done my arm much good at all."
In fact, it is throbbing something awful. But Lord John is a soldier and has been so long enough to develop certain bad habits.
no subject
Once in the tent, Mary urges him towards the cot that she had last left him in. "Would you like some tea?" she asks him. "How is your pain?"
Both she and Jim care a lot about John and want to make sure that he's soon on the mend. Mary hates that he's gotten hurt and she wishes that gods here wouldn't get the Wanderers involved in such battles.
no subject
"Only if you'll join me, my dear," he replies, which is perhaps a slightly difficult answer, but he can only stand to be doted on so much.
He laces his hands in front of him, because his arm hurts too much to lace them behind his back as he might do otherwise, and he supposes that is a sign that he had better speak up about the condition of his injury.
"I have had worse injuries," he answers, allowing her to usher him forward towards the cot. "But I've certainly felt better as well."
no subject
After helping him into the cot, she sits down at the end of it. This reminds her of when she took care of Matthew after his injuries in the war, though at least John's injuries are much less dire than his were.
"There isn't much to be done for it other than binding it up. I don't think we even have morphine here, not that you ought to take too much of that anyway."
She's heard the stories about the dead-eyed morphine addicts, usually veterans from the war with chronic injuries.
no subject
He listens intently to her words, though he has to raise his eyebrows slightly in confusion of her lamentation of this -- morphine?
"There's no need to be worried about that, my dear," he says, flashing her a slightly confused smile. "Considering I haven't the faintest idea what it is that you're talking about, I won't know what it is that I'm missing, now will I?"
no subject
She sets up two tea cups for them with tea bags inside of them, then peeks out of the tent to check if the kettle is whistling yet.
no subject
He smiles at her wistfully, before shaking his head. "I'm afraid that for better or worse, I have had some experience with that. Though I would have been more grateful if they had had it available in Prussia, I think. Unfortunately, you cannot expect an army surgeon to be so well-equipped."
no subject
"I should think that of all surgeons an army surgeon would be well-equipped with pain medication," she says. Mary pauses their conversation for a moment to get the whistling kettle off of the fire. Returning, she pours the water over the tea bags in the cups, then hands one to John. "It seemed a standard thing during the war my husband fought in."
Men had returned home addicted, but otherwise they would have been in excruciating pain. Mary wasn't sure which was worse.
no subject
John curls his better hand around the tea cup, moving to rest it on his knee as he waits for the water to cool.
Playing with the teacup in his good hand, John considers the thought, before glancing up to her with a sudden half-grimace.
"Ah," he says. "No, I do believe they did have it, now that I recall. But the nature of my injuries were such that I was not allowed to have it." He smiles, somewhat sheepishly. It would seem that he is the sort to find himself injured rather often.
"Your husband and I have that in common," he indicates. "Fighting in a war. One of our canon had a weak spot, and I had the misfortune to be commanding it when that canon happened to explode. I managed to keep my arm by catching the brunt of the shrapnel in my chest. I suppose they were afraid to compromise my breathing any further than it already was, I can't say. For better or worse, I can't say I recall too much about the event, or the next several months for that matter."
no subject
"My husband was injured by a shell, a falling bomb of sorts. One of our servants fought with him and ended up saving his life, though he later died from his injuries. Matthew was paralyzed from the waist down and the doctors thought he would never walk again." Mary shook her head, then sipped some of her tea. "He and I technically weren't together then, but I was heartbroken all the same."
no subject
"I am sorry, my dear," he offers, gently. "I do hope he was able to recover at least some mobility, from his injuries?"
He had seen men injured in similar ways from his own war. If they survived it meant a life abed or reduced to being pushed about in a Bath chair. Sometimes it is more difficult to survive the injury than not, depending on the strength of the individual. He has seen that first-hand himself as well.