isleofavalon | EVENT ✨ Tournaments & Trust

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EVENT ✨ Tournaments & Trust

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This is the event log for IC comments only! Ask OOC questions/plot/view event notes HERE or use the FAQ for general questions. Click here to view top-level comments only.

SUMMARY: King Arthur needs to go meet with Queen Elphame. Celliwig holds a tournament to invite other people to come with during the communication and celebrate their newfound friendship. A temporary barrier was put up so the river is currently mostly impassible.

After the departure from Celliwig last month, the people of Celliwig have been working hard to make the area around their town safe again from the angered specters. For now, there are makeshift barriers that are preventing anything from crossing the river, dead or alive, except over the Pure of Heart bridge. It will, at the very least, prevent more from coming over and overwhelming the land surrounding Celliwig again.

The city is open and, while the Elphame traders have stuck around to help train people in the proper use and treatment of mounts, the safest way to speak to Elphame is through Celliwig's hall of mirrors. King Arthur, Merlin, and a couple of other members of the royal court entered to speak to Queen Elphame directly in order to find out what information she knew about the Calamity and to begin discussion of what it would take to reclaim Excalibur. With the magics of Avalon having recovered significantly enough to not be at risk of falling apart if some of the otherworlders leave while still maintaining the barrier to keep Avalon safe, they need to begin discussing action.

At the same time, in celebration of King Arthur's arrival and a royal wedding within Celliwig, a tournament is underway! Celliwig's tournaments work a little differently, however, and focus on a little more than just combat skills-- a modern tournament for the modern person. (Though there is fighting as well, of course.) Celliwig's Top Talents Tourney hasn't been held in a good many years since it's been closed off, so everyone is invited to participate. Invitations have been sent to all of Camelot's residents. The tournament categories are as follows:

Cutthroat Cooking - For the chef's out there! Compete against other chefs to show off who has the best culinary skills. All contestants start with 2,500,000G which will be theirs to lose through the course of the tournament. This money can be used to purchase sabotages to use on other chefs throughout the course of the competition.

Vicious Vocals - Singing competition. Anyone may participate, there are no auditions. Each contestant will compete solo first, then have to do a competitive duet with another person who moved onto the second round. The final round involves performing and singing at the same time, so you may want to go find friends to give you tips between each round and help you come up with an awesome set-up that will wow the judges!

Speed Sculpting - This one's for the artists! Celliwig is really big on art, in particular sculpture. Any decent sculpture can be sold whether it wins or loses. Sculpture form can be made with anything you want-- glass, sugar, and ice are popular choices in Celliwig because of the city's aesthetic, but any materials are possible-- plants, stones, clay, chocolate, fabric, whatever you want as long as it stands on its own after you're done creating. (You can use your magic to sculpt if that's what you want.)

Melee Mania - Fight your fellow competitors one-on-one. Weapons and magic are both allowed. Healers will be paid generously for assisting after combat is finished.

Familiar Feud - Let your familiar have a little fun and combat each other! They're the star of the show here and otherworlders are only there in a support role.

Mario Party - It's literally a series of Mario Party games. If you win your block, you move onto the next round and so on. 4 max players per game. If you don't rage quit at any point, you get free energy drinks throughout the day because this party isn't stopping.

Silent Assassin - This competition will take place throughout the course of the tournament. All competitors are kept confidential, but required to wear a hidden body cam so that the experience can be shared online for audience viewing later. All competitors are given fake weapons (paintball guns, rubber knives, and so on) with sensors in them and have to find and "kill" the other competitors throughout the tournament period.

Anyone who shows up to either participate in or watch the tournament will receive 50% off a hotel room and a single (Potion) Counter-curse.

How the tournament will be run is a little different from an OOC standpoint. Any characters can participate, but in order to determine a winner, we will need anyone who thinks their characters skill is great enough to win to comment to the name of the tournament they are entering HERE! If your character would have canon advantages in a category, write +1 advantage in your comment. (So if you are from an idol series, you'll have a leg up on singing, or if your character is a skilled assassin in their canon, they could gain a +1. It won't guarantee they win, but it will give them a leg up so we're not ignoring their skill!) If you do not think your character has any chance at winning, please do not comment. (Someone who's never cooked a day in their life isn't going to magically win the cooking competition, you know?) If you think/want your character to lose even if they may have skills, we do not need your information. This is only an RNG for potential winners. We will RNG the winners from those who comment for each competition as linked.

ICly, anyone who wants to thread any part of it out, go for it! You can thread out watching, you can thread out participating, interfering, anything you want! Thread out having an intimate moment with a healer after a battle, a tearful failure and hurt/comfort consolation, buying a round of vodka flashes for your fellow losers. Whatever you want! Just have fun.

SUMMARY: King Arthur & Co. are still in chambers. A woman shows up and claims they're in danger, argues with Glwelwyd that she saw it despite that those abilities are not possible right now. Players voted to determine the next course of this prompt. (This section may be skipped for prompts now, but is still posted for reference.)

The day after the end of the tournament days, all seems well and peaceful as usual within the city of Celliwig. The mirror hall that King Arthur's party had gone into is still closed shut. The Hall is guarded by a 7 foot tall man with a long, scraggly beard and huge rippling muscles named Glewlwyd IV. (You may have seen him around at past events.) None may enter until negotiations are completed, and it is his sacred duty passed down by his ancestors to ensure that none shall pass his guard. Most in Celliwig won't even try, knowing the futility of such an action, which is why it is particularly peculiar that Gwion can be found yelling outside of the halls that they need to be let in. After an argument and a call to action, some other worlders chose to find Gwion and ask questions.

	"Listen to me, there's something wrong, you need to let someone in there! Look for yourself! I saw it!"
	"Time is frozen, the future cannot be seen. A dream is but a dream, not a prophecy. Disrespect from the people of Celliwig interrupting a meeting of the fae and King Arthur's party would spell much more certain fate.

After one more failed attempt to get past him, the woman stomps off to a nearby bar to blow off some steam, and ends up posting to the AOL Network instead.

The King's party is in danger. No one is allowed in or out, but they're going to die if you don't work together to get past Glewlwyd. You can ask how I know, but it's a real long story and we're real short on time, so I'm kind of going out on a limb here. I'll be at Celliwig's bar if anyone wants more details.

SUMMARY: A very close battle ensues in front of the Hall of Mirrors, with the doors eventually being forced open to reveal a dark, possessed hall. Reflects prey on characters' deepest insecurities and anyone who falls victim to them are trapped within the reflections. King Arthur and the Pure of Heart and Brave of Soul Mirror used to communicate with Elphame are possessed by angry specters trapped on Celliwig's side after the river barrier was put up.

After the drama caused by Gwion's warning, the city of Celliwig is rather unsettled. There's an air of tension thick enough that you could hear a pin drop, and enough people who thought it was more important to protect the integrity and wishes of the fae than to worry about the unlikely chance that a seer had a vision while time was stopped. A large number of people have shown up to stand by Glewlwyd's side and defend the Hall of Mirrors, a show which will not be forgotten by the people of Celliwig... However, the strength in both numbers and battle goes to those wishing to enter the Hall of Mirrors. The battle is strenuous, a mixture of both Celliwig citizens and Camelot's otherworlders, and anyone wishing to play out part of it should put either defense or offense indicators in their prompt title to clearly attract those wishing to play out the fight.

Those who manage to break through the line will make it into the Hall of Mirrors. The first and most notable thing once the door is open is that it's as dark as night. Not at all conditions for a meeting. And it's cold, condensation and fog forming at the door where the freezing night of the hall and the summer heat outside. It is not at all like it was the first time visitors were allowed in to place their Pure of Heart and Brave of Soul crystals in the mirror to communicate with Elphame. There is absolutely something going on, and those on either side of the battle may want to redirect their attention to the Hall. None of the party seems to be seen. Those who dare to venture forward into the hall will find themselves rather quickly at a loss for where the door went. There is a dim light still visible from it, highlighting the other people in the room and the edges of glass and mirrors throughout the hall.

An eerie blue glow reflects through the number of the mirrors, but it seems to move about as if passing impermenantly. Those who try to chase it will find themselves further lost from the entrance, until they find themselves face to face with a reflection that doesn't seem to follow their own movements. This reflection will begin to speak with the character's voice, then immediately target the character's deepest insecurities. Every bad thought that they've thought of themself is fair game. If the character can remain calm and keep moving forward, then they will not fall victim to the trap. However, should they react with a burst of emotion, argue, or be unable to move forward when faced with their own insecurities, they will find themselves trapped in the mirror, replacing the reflection.

Those who manage to pass the mirrors will find themselves at the Pure of Heart and Brave of Soul Mirror. The communication is still open to what appears to be an ornately decorated, natural throne. The Queen is long since gone, having been escorted to safety to keep her safe from the cursed mirrors. Notably, every crystal lining the edge of this mirror seems to have been infected by the blue, almost spectral color. Approached, a chilling laughter echoes from the possessed mirror, but the laughter is finished by King Arthur himself, back turned and facing the mirror. He turns around and wields his sword, ready to defend the mirror, eyes filled with the same blue as the mirror. As more people approach, reflections of Arthur seem to walk out of the mirrors as well to fight more and more people. It's hard to tell which is the real one, so can you really kill him to get him out of the way and get to the mirror? Fight the small army of King Arthurs and gather enough death mages to exorcise the spirits out of the mirror.. or maybe just smash it. Did you think this was the last choice you'd make this week?

Please refer to the plotting post for any additional plotting needs and to check added notes for the third prompt. Timeline-wise, the new/third prompt doesn't start until the 23rd. The poll for it is here.

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I'm told there will be healers and trainers on hand to handle any injury, so I'll be settled, there. [ Gareth reached to give his shoulder a small pat. Yeah, he probably shouldn't worry about her, but she knew he was going to. At this point, he didn't always have to say it, she just... knew. It was weird, how natural that felt, but she didn't turn away from it. ]

And if I get too banged up to continue, I know better than to push just for matter of sport.

[ Kipposhi sighed, shaking his head. ]

Look, again, I suck at explaining this, so just... bear with me, alright?

[ He took in a deep breath, thinking of a good place to start... ][ ]

So... yes. Oda Nobunaga, the mortal person of history, is dead. They committed honorable suicide when one of their vassals, Akechi Mitsuhide, betrayed them in Honnouji, dying in the temple as it burned to the ground.

But, because of their life and the legend that formed around them, their spirit was stored within a metaphysical system we call the Throne of Heroes, where they exist as a Heroic Spirit, able to be summoned back to the mortal world via either a magus with the appropriate spell, or by the World itself should it have need of them.

An eyebrow archly raises and Chris smirks. "Good. I'd hate to be disappointed." She replies. "I've seen too many braggarts talk themselves up and then fail to deliver." She means on the training field; chauvinism was alive and well in Zexen, at least until the recruits had it knocked out of them. However, she figures Hawk will still appreciate the turn of phrase.

The swords present an interesting challenge; in addition to making it more difficult to maneuver, she can tell from the way Hawk is moving he's managed to enhance his speed. Fortunately, Chris has an answer for both of those things. Flipping her sword around, she drives it into the ground, and then channels her Siphon Magic through the blade down into the dirt, spreading outwards in a field of light. The minute the field hits the swords, they fizzle out and vanish, a result of being enveloped by her Anti-Magic Field, her own unique variation on Siphon magic use. The field doesn't quite reach Hawk, but the swords are taken out of play. And he probably won't be able to count on his enhanced speed if he steps inside the field either.

Of course, the flipside is, Chris can't use any of her magic within the field either. Her brow knits in concentration. Two minutes before she can't sustain the field anymore.

Pulling the sword out of the ground, she approaches Hawk at the field's edge. "Come now Hawk, you were just boasting of your prowess. This is hardly satisfying me." She raises her other hand and beckons him in. "Try and take me."

She has to admit, back in Zexen this would have mortified her to do, but free of the constraints of her family name and the expectations put upon her by her station...this is kind of fun now that she's getting into the spirit of things.

"Arthur is too important to risk. If we lose him, this entire venture is in jeopardy. We can't take that chance. Celliwig will have to understand." She sighs in frustation. "But I can see this talk won't get us anywhere. I'm sorry, but it seems I must insist." Chris charges, striking out with her sword. She doesn't try to use magic to empower it as she doesn't want to hurt Kratos, just get him out of her way so she can get inside.

[ This is a hard move to pull off. Because obviously Minako needs to really pay attention to the game as well, while carrying out her plan at the same time.

It's a risk. But one she's very willing to take. ]

Wow..! [ She gasps. ] Do you see that hot duck stud over there?

[ ANYTHING'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR.

AND VIDEO GAMES. ]

[ Minako lets out a 'pfft' disbelieving kind of sound. ]

No way! Every single superhero out there has a weakness!

[ Not that Minako is guessing the true one in her head here, mind you. It's more just-- ]

It's classic! You can't be a superhero without one!

[It looks like... well, a lump of clay because she hasn't gotten started on anything yet.]

Oh, I'm still deciding what to make myself. I was never very good at these things.

[Keith certainly was no slouch when it came to fighting. He was also fast and agile, giving him the ability to twist from his own attack and lessen the hit to his arm.

His own fighting style wasn't anything overly special, but it was a strange combination of formal training and improvised street brawling, a mixture of Earth martial arts, Altean sword fighting, and Galra techniques. So some of Keith's moves might actually catch someone not used to alien styles off guard after all. Altean styles tended to be more for endurance, and Galra styles were all about aggression and attack. Neither style liked to give up or back down easily.

Unlike Hijikata, though, Keith was not a talker when he fought. At least, not when he didn't think it was necessary. Instead, he acknowledged the statement with a quick smirk, spinning to his back shoulder to bring the black and white katar-like sword around at his opponent's legs.]

I’m pretty sure that she’ll do great on her own, Robyn.

(Even Harry is very nervous for her right now, judging from the tone of his voice as much as he wants to hide, considering that there could be plenty of strong competition out there.)

Even Rose and Hedwig believe in her too. If they have good faith in anything, I have the trust in that thing as well.

(Hedwig then turns her head and begins to softly hooting to Robyn as a way to reassure her, whereas Rose squeaks happily up as she bounces up and down eagerly.)

[ Minako shakes her head. ]

No need to thank me! It's just my duty, after all. For I am..

[ Cue the dramatics.

Minako raises a hand in the air, pointing at the sky, standing straight up like she's posing for some sort of photo that isn't being taken. ]

The queen of singing!

[ No, she's not. ]

I wouldn’t mind getting my astrology looked into by you, Mona. I haven’t done this sort of thing before back home, so go right ahead.

(He’s very curiosity to see what lies in store for him right now, so he should get some fun out of it as well.)

Really?

[Keith had no idea... but he was slowly getting used to the idea of people from different levels of technology in this place.]

Oh, well... I guess. [He poked a bit at the controllers to get an idea of how they worked.] So, do we pick one of the games on here or something?

Oh, well... I'm still in the tournament, at least. Not eliminated, yet. [There was something to be said for perseverance. Though, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was yet to be seen.] It's been a challenge, though. A good one.

Oh... I... can't say I've ever eaten lobster. Or... any seafood, honestly. [She wasn't friends with fish ~~she's not Ariel~~.]

But it all looks lovely. May I try something?

Well, focusing on what we used to have will not fix the present problem at hand. [They DO need to get him some real medical assistance, however.]

Sit, rest for a bit. You've been through so much that may be why you're having a hard time concentrating to make ice.

[She stops them, not willing to sit on the floor lest the reflections act up again and it leaves them scrambling, but they can at least stop walking.]

Am I able to move it, the collar? So I can get a better look at the damage?

I see... [Not really the info she wanted, but fine, she'll be direct.]

What happened to your shoulder?

1. They Can't Stop Us All - Offense

Walter had not come to Celliwig for the tournament. He had opted instead to remain near the Land of Rot, both to clean up the mess that had occurred with the wards' breach, and to monitor and guard against further disturbances until he personally felt the situation had stabilized.

A moment of checking the network had led to an abrupt change in his priorities. He'd raced to Celliwig, where he'd taken but a moment to catch his breath before stalking over to where the conflict between the two sides simmered to its boiling point.

"I have a job to do. Now get out of my way."

Not waiting for a response, he pushes forward.

2. The Hall of Mirrors

Walter, as perhaps many others, chases down the flash of movement that is the light, only to in turn be greeted with a mirror version of himself.

His eyes cold, his smile razor sharp, the reflection speaks.

{"You're not going to save anyone, you know. You never have. And you won't now. You're a killer, and you'll always be a killer. That's why they call you what they call you, Angel of Death.

And that's okay. This one night, one act farce of a world isn't worth protecting anyway."}

It digs deep. Those words, the moniker he is both proud of and yet has been thus far disinclined to mention to those he's met in Avalon; they're part unvarnished truth, part something warped and twisted, yet still reminiscent of something he's felt. But he still has a job to do.

"You're right about one thing. I am a killer." Walter raises a hand, death magic flaring at his fingertips -- the beginnings of an exorcism spell.

"How about I make you my first of the night?"

His eyes are steely, his smile razor sharp as he fires it off, brisk steps already carrying him away from the mirror. This thing is stalling, and he has no intention of letting himself be delayed, let alone bested.

He has a king to secure.

3. Let's Wrap This Up, Shall We?

Now especially, Walter is glad for his unconscious foresight in not only acquiring his weapons from the Elphame Traders, but a suitable means of transporting them on his person.

All ten withdrawn, all ten hundreds of feet in length, he's used his kinetic magic to bind up as many of the Arthurs as possible without causing the place to become a veritable spider's nest of wires both thin enough and strong enough to sever limbs if someone were foolish enough to walk into them at the wrong angle. As it was, tying up the reflections had been a delicate task, even with running death magic and kinetic magic through them concurrently.

He surveys the final mirror with a critical glance, aware that time is probably limited, and that he's used a portion of his magic reserves already.

He needs more.

Teeth gritted, he all but growls his request as though it is a demand. "If anyone else is good with banishing spirits back to where they belong, now would be a good time to step forward!"

[Keith did better with direct. It was for the best.]

Oh. [Right. That.] My opponent was using a mace or something, and came down on it from above.

[She nods. Now they were getting somewhere.]

And your leg? Was that due to the mace as well?

[Keith shook his head.]

Different match. [As in, yes... he'd been fighting injured.] It was later. The field's been getting pretty roughed up from the matches, and I stepped in a spot that had been torn up a bit.

[Which he clearly felt pretty embarrassed about, but it had been some time since he'd fought on ground like that. He usually was better on his feet...]

Ah... [She crosses her arms, giving him an eye.] You're lucky magic can take care of this; otherwise, I'd see you undergoing bed rest for a few weeks due to exacerbating what would've taken a few days and an ice pack. I ask you refrain from doing anything like that again.

[IE, no more controlled battles while injured.]

Anyway, taking off your armor. We'll get your shoulder set first and handle your ankle second. Unless you have any other injuries that require immediate attention.

[That disapproving look settled into Keith in all the wrong ways, and he felt his defenses slam into place. His own expression soured rather suddenly, brow lowering and mouth pursing a bit as the stubbornness kicked in. He knew his limits, thanks. Any time someone he didn't know well even came close to scolding him in some way, Keith could feel himself revert to that disrespectful kid that just didn't care what anyone else thought of him.]

Nothing immediate.

[His tone had gone from sheepish and mildly embarrassed to almost growly and petulant as he started to gingerly remove the arm pieces from his right arm. Getting that chest piece off over his head was going to hurt, though, but, for some odd reason, the Alteans had decided to make that in one piece instead of two...]

[He'd have to get used to that with this doctor. He's lucky, of course. After all, it didn't sound like he broke anything and decided to keep fighting on that. This was only a warning.]

[Meanwhile, her brows furrow and she steps forward to help him get that chest piece off. Whoever built it probably didn't consider difficulties like this.]

Are there more defensive benefits with this construction...?

[She's more talking to herself - force of habit.]

It's not a special! Squeezing something already made out of a bottle isn't cooking!

[Keith was used to being disapproved of. It was one of the reasons he had built up that kind of bristly defense mechanism.

He grunted and hissed a bit through his teeth, though, as he had to shift just enough to be able to get the piece off. His voice was tight as he answered.]

I don't know... it does change size with the person wearing it, though...

[And with being pulled on and off, surprisingly enough. Alteans had odd designs, but useful technology. The armor, while thankfully durable and protective, was also adaptive, and they were able to stretch it to give them a bit more maneuvering room so he didn't have to move that shoulder joint as far. It was also a lot more lightweight than it appeared.

Removing the hard white and red shell left just the black fabric jumpsuit underneath...]

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EVENT ✨ Tournaments & Trust

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Walter C. Dornez | Hellsing: The Dawn

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