— everything's fine with me, honestly

[morns]

🧙 WHO: Kate (morns), Maruki (snaccs), Izumi (currysseur), Century Egg (fellsound) & whoever wants to deal with them
⚔️️ WHAT: Event fallout / probable October catchall carryover.
🕒 WHEN: Post-event through October
🗺️ WHERE: All over the shop
⚠️ WARNINGS: Angst. So much angst. Idiots overworking themselves. etc.


— kate.

for zagreus
celliwig ruins / open

— maruki.

open / aftermath

— izumi.

open / aftermath

— century egg.

for red wine
forest of the felled / open

( ooc: If you want something specific with any of them, hit me up on discord or plurk! )

Comments

kate.

[morns]

zagreus /

[morns]

( returning to Camelot feels like an eternity, even on the horses Archimedes provides, body aching and mind tripping over every part of the battle. where did they go wrong? how much more could she have done, how much better could she have fought?

losses are inevitable, of course. she's not stupid enough to think otherwise. fuck knows there were plenty of them back in the military. but asking these questions is essential. because next time—

... there will be a next time. she had almost started to forget that in the relative ease of the last few months. tournaments and travelling are easy lures she let herself get distracted by, thinking that days would continue as they had so far. the weight of home, of Marc, hostage of all this bullshit, hasn't left her shoulders since the hall of mirrors, but it had all been so quiet.

it pisses her off, more than anything else. she should have known better. life is never simply quiet, it's waiting. and they were caught off guard, foolish and naïve.

her stomach is in knots by the time they reach the city, her mind straining to hold back the worst of the worries. how badly has this fucked the balance up? have they just cost her brother his life?

she's thinking too much. and there's only one way to fix that.

Kate just about remembers to tie the horse up outside the bar she almost instinctively aims for, patting it absentmindedly and grimacing at the shooting ache in her legs as she walks in, settles down, and orders something stronger than a beer, and less fun than a tequila. a simple glass of scotch.

she'll be a wreck in the morning, sore and hungover, but that sounds much better than sore and still thinking about Marc. )

celliwig ruins / open

[morns]

( the restless urge that overtakes Kate is nothing new, the need to keep going, keep doing something is largely how she survives. but for once it doesn't come out in an urge to fling herself across the buildings of Camelot, but one that leads her to take the newly acquired chestnut coloured horse out of the stables she's now renting and ride it in the direction of Celliwig, of the Forest.

she's no idea what she's looking for, what she'll even be able to do when she gets there, but she goes anyway. packs bags with food and water and pushes down the worry that keeps rising.

what happens now?

she doesn't know, but she's clinging to the thought that says that if this was a fuck up bad enough to ruin everything, they wouldn't still be around. whatever multiverse ending thing was meant to happen would have happened and she wouldn't be riding to Celliwig. so this is just a setback. and setbacks... they happen. battles are lost and plans have to be drawn up new. that happened in warfare.

this isn't technically a war, but the same applies. and she can't just sit around and not do anything.

so she rides, keeps going to where the city used to stand and feeds her horse generously when she dismounts. )

I'll be back in a few.

( the ruins at the edge of the city make a sufficient place to tie the reins and leave her for the time being with a dish of water.

from here on... Kate's on her own. and who knows what could be roaming about. she takes a minute to memorise the spot where she left her horse, just in case it comes to a quick getaway, and steps into a city of cinders. a sight which feels all too familiar, enough to have her suppressing a shiver as she bends down to brush hands over a burn mark which seems to be etched into the earth.

maybe she's not looking to do anything. maybe she just needs to see it for herself, to stop for a minute and take in the sight. to remember what rock bottom looks like.

to figure out where they go from here. )

I hear some soft Caster was in order

[colchismagecraft]

[Whilst Caster had initially come to the Celliwig ruins to gloat, but...well, at least a few of her allies had told her off for her sadism. Besides, some of them had been hurt in the battle as well. So, truth be told, she wasn't sure what brought her to the ruins that day.

But it seemed like she wasn't the only one here, judging by the horse waiting patiently for its rider to come back. Hm...

She checked the horse had enough water, gave it a little pet on the nose, and then made her way forward- curiosity getting the better of her. Who else was even here?]

a good little meow meow

[morns]

( Kate doesn't expect to be alone here. there are enough people who've been called to Avalon who are busybodies, needing to go and do things and see things for themselves. (she supposes that's part of the point of it all. a multiverse saviour is no good if all they'll do is sit at home and drink.) but still, the all too familiar hush of a place left totally destroyed has her on edge, and the footsteps attract her attention just before she moves on from the first spot she'd come to.

who...? )

Caster.

( someone familiar, at least. she lets her hand stray from where it had been reaching for the bag of knives she strapped to her thigh (just in case. she's sure Caster of all people would understand that) and shifts her weight back into a more comfortable position. )

Sightseeing?

( bad attempt at a joke? probably. )

Exactly!

[colchismagecraft]

[That gesture was one she recognised well- after all, she kept her twisted ritual knife at her side most times.]

However much I like arson, the sights aren't nearly as appealing when I'm not the one responsible.

[A wry smirk. Well, she certainly had a twisted sense of humour. That comment aside, though, Caster took a glance around to make sure they were alone.]

...And you?

:3c

[groundzeroes]

[Reaching Celliwig-- or what's left of it, anyway-- is quite the trek. And with all of the incoming refugees and moved supplies, horses available to rent were in quite short supply. It takes a while for the rush to die down, but eventually Rei manages to get one and start his own solitary journey to see the ruined city.

What is he going for, exactly? Well, he's not really sure. The news had certainly shown enough of the carnage, but it's different to arrive in person and really take it in, to remind himself of what this kind of hell is like.

They say all warscapes look the same. It's not true, but it certainly feels that way.

He hasn't even been there long when the crunch of his shoes over the broken glass from the dragon's razing breath brings him to a girl he keeps finding himself in front of time and again.]

...Kate.

[morns]

( this is why you fight a giant and get one for free. real easy. (well, except for the bit where they got their asses kicked, but that's neither here nor there.)

she could claim this is for finding things, scavenging and salvaging what can be found from the wreck of the city, and she did think to bring a bag with the for that purpose, but really? it's secondary to the simple need to know, to see the hard stuff with her own two eyes.

by the time Rei finds her, she's already found the remnants of a building and started pushing through the broken shell to see what's beneath, ears pricked for the sounds of others. (there'll be others. of course there will be. the question is just who those others are.) so, between footsteps and the crunch of glass, she's already turning around by the time her name is called.

it shouldn't surprise her that he's here, it doesn't, really. Rei may never appear on the front lines of things like this, but he always seems to be somewhere. keeping up to date, sticking his nose into things, usually with an insufferable grin and an easygoing nickname.

but neither of those are present here. and somehow, more than anything else, more than even the precarious balance of her boots against rubble and the tinge of smoke and dust still hovering in the air, it's that which has Kate's brows knitting together and a knot forming in her stomach as that question resurfaces in a different way:

how fucked are they? )

Here for clean up?

( as strange as it is to not hear that little chan on the end of her name, it's just as strange to try and make conversation about a city that's just been razed to the ground with someone who isn't wearing army fatigues. to step over the rubble and come in line with someone who isn't Ainsworth.

though, as far as options in Avalon go... )

maruki.

[snaccs]

camelot / open

[snaccs]

( the lost battles hurt, they ache, on levels far deeper than the physical injuries sustained by those who fought or ended up caught in them. Maruki avoided the whole thing — he's no fighter at the most ordinary of times, and this was anything but ordinary. it hurts to know that, for all the people here, called to help, they couldn't stop this. hurts to know he can't do more and that there's going to be yet more people needing his services as a counsellor.

there has to be a way he can fix this. just because the Metaverse doesn't exist here doesn't mean it's impossible. it's what Rumi would want him to do, right? she — or at least the version of her that he knew and fell in love with — would want him to help everyone. to make use of all those years of researching, even in a strange place.

so he tries one of the fruits from the plant he received all those months ago, thinks of ways he can help the living rather than the already dead, and finds that the spirits he used to see have vanished.

and his phone is listening to him in ways it didn't before.

this... this might be able to do something. but for now he looks at the efforts to house the refugees and at the space in his apartment currently taken up by research. he can't let just anyone see it, but he can't hoard this space to himself when others are in need.

so instead, he moves books, notebooks, all the things he kept in his office to... well. his other office. it isn't ideal, but it's enchanted and protected, and off limits as a space for refugees due to the nature of his work. (man, maybe he should move into a bigger office space. something with proper room for his research.)

it's easy to spot the man with a bunch of boxes walking towards a glass yurt on the outskirts of the city, looking sweaty and haggard after a while. or, after several hours, to find him collapsed in the chair of a bakery with outdoor seating, reading through a book on Technomancy and nibbling at pastries while a coffee cools next to him. he still manages a smile (one that doesn't quite reach his eyes) and a wave if anyone locks eyes with him a bit too long, as well as a tired, but warm; )

Do you need any help?

[writtendestiny]

[She hates this.

Part of her wonders that if she had pointed out earlier that fae cannot and should never be trusted, maybe this could have been avoided or at least not been as bad as it turned out, but the more sensible side of her knows that something like that is only wishful thinking. No one would have had any reason to listen to her and her dislike of anything fae bordered on obsessive at times... she can't imagine it would have come across terribly well. Well... they'd all learned the lesson now, hadn't they.

But she's not entirely surprised it turned out like this.

When she spots Maruki sitting outside the bakery looking worse for wear, she observes him for a few moments while she decides if she actually wants to interrupt him. But-- He talks to her first.]

No. [She replies simply, moving closer so neither of them need to raise their voices.] But it looks like you do.

[snaccs]

( that suggestion does a job of shaking him out of his tired stupor, assurances ready on his tongue immediately. )

What? No! ( whoa, okay, Maruki. maybe a bit too quick on the protest there. ) I mean... I've been moving things from my home office to turn it into a spare bedroom. It's taken longer than I expected.

( he's just a bit physically worn down from all the stuff he's had to shift. and he hasn't even thought about a bed or cot yet.

ergo lunch. and a rather pedestrian, in comparison to Leblanc, coffee. man, Kurusu-kun's guardian would be a welcome sight if he came with a pot of whatever glorious golden delights he concocts for customers. )

[silvergarden]

...Doctor Maruki.

[Rinea gazes at the man with sad eyes, arrested in her errands by the sight of him struggling with his luggage. He usually looks much more composed when she sees him in the library, but then again... everyone's been looking a bit haunted, lately.]

Are you perhaps moving out?

[snaccs]

( even if times were better, he’d probably still look a mess while dragging the disassembled skeleton of a set of shelves around. at least the weather is cooling down and he doesn’t live too far from his counselling office. )

Rinea-san! ( he smiles as he realises who’s addressing him, but it’s a little breathless. maybe he should have added weights to this “getting fit” nonsense he embarked on. )

No, that’s... ( hold pls, he’s putting these planks of wood down. they can rest against his leg for a minute, it’s fine. ) I wanted to make space in my apartment, given... ( he drifts off for a moment, the conclusion to the sentence playing out in the flash of pain in his dark eyes. ) Well. What I mean to say is that I’m repurposing my home office for one of the refugees.

izumi.

[currysseur]

camelot / open

[currysseur]

( she couldn't do anything.

Lestari was rescued, but the giant and dragon got away, and that news travels fast. and Izumi wasn't there for any of it.

it was better that she wasn't. this she knows. she's just a director. just an ordinary person with an ordinary life. she would have done nothing but hold back the people fighting these things.

but that doesn't make the guilt of what happened any easier to bear. it doesn't mean she's any happier seeing all the displaced faces around the city, people whose lives were ripped away from them because she was brought here and didn't do anything. she was given the gift of magic and then simply looked at it as another prop for plays.

she could have been doing more. more than simply jogging around the city and calling it fitness. could have looked into her swordfighting lessons sooner.

she can't change those mistakes, but she can stop them happening again.

so it's likely that, in the aftermath of everything, you'll find Izumi with a sword in her hand, stood outside next to a training dummy, practicing her moves with vigour, pulling up flares of light magic to create shields and draw from her stamina deliberately.

pushing herself. just in case there's a next time. )

[kokuryuu]

[Souma is headed out with his familiar to try and work on his own magic, and he can't help but notice the brunette lady trying very hard to attack that dummy. He pauses for a moment, as he thinks they may have spoken before, however briefly, around the time of the mirrors and such happening, but he isn't completely sure.

In any case, he has to give her credit for effort. It's when she starts creating shields that compliment how she is trying to move that he's standing there in awe, eyes wide with how impressed he is. When Izumi pauses next, there is a tiny, barely audible applause from the bushes, and then she can see Souma there, clapping with an impressed look on his face.

He is a little over six feet, around mid twenties. His clothes are well-worn black martial arts clothing, loose pants and a wrap shirt, with the wrists and ankles wrapped with black cloth strips to keep them tight against the limb and not in the way. Souma's skin is deeply tanned and his wavy dark hair is a god-forsaken mess that really needs to meet with a pair of scissors, because it keeps drifting into his eyes. He is carrying two short swords and a rather devious-looking snake-- fat, looks like a boa but completely black, about ten feet long-- is tagging along behind him. He and the snake have the same gold eyes.

Souma makes a little sound of awe, blinking rapidly after the bright lights stunned him. His eyes are watering.]

Uwah. Fellow Warrior, your... y-your magic use, just now. A-a-ast-astounding.

Forgive me, I am dazzled-- shadow yokai do not do well with light flashes. Even if they are pretty ones...

[currysseur]

( she lets herself get absorbed into the motions, under no illusions that her sword work is anything but rudimentary, but at least her time spent studying light magic at the school is paying off. her shields are decent, and she’s getting faster at casting... though she still hasn’t worked out how to do so without having to yell ACTION.

that part is pretty embarrassing, really. though realising she’s being watched and applauded comes close, and she jumps as she turns around to find a familiar face.

(being able to remember faces is useful for a director, but it helps that there are so many people here who look like they’d fit right in on a stage of pretty boys.) )

A-ah... ( her hand reaches instinctively for her hair, something to fiddle with as cheeks go pink and she huffs out a nervous laugh. ) It wasn’t that—

( and then her brain catches up with the last part of what he said. ) Eh? Wait... D-did you say yokai?

( maybe she shouldn’t be surprised by that, given everything that’s happened so far, but it’s still pretty surprising! )

century egg.

[fellsound]

red wine /

[fellsound]

( the battle is over and not in their favour. Century Egg is as Century Egg ever is, stoic and unblinking as he rights himself with a wince, going from sprawled on his back to sitting in a jerky, ungraceful motion which betrays the pain in his back.

he casts his eyes across everything and focuses on a nearby shadow, making it dance in ways that the light would never allow.

so that had been real...

he exhales, then looks around again. where is Red Wine? he was fighting alongside him until the giant knocked him back and out—

ah.

there he is, just a few metres away, behind him. and twisting this way only makes his back hurt more.

is there a way he can use this power to attract Red Wine's attention? maybe...

the shadows start dancing again, but this time, specifically curving towards Red Wine, brushing over his thighs as they wriggle and wave. )

[judgementor]

[He thinks he blacked out for a minute.

Red Wine comes to sprawled ungracefully on his back with his sword somehow miraculously still in his hand, and a splitting pain in his head. He lets out a soft groan as he tries to move, every muscle protesting, and he slowly rolls onto his side to give himself a better chance of being able to sit up at all.

With one hand pressed to the side of his head, he squeezes his eyes shut and pushes himself up into a seated position. His ears are ringing, and there's blood coming from somewhere above his hair line.]

Mmn. [One of his eyes half-opens, and he focuses on his legs to see the shadows across them shifting strangely.

huh...?

Blinking both eyes open painfully, he follows the trail of shadows until he finds the prone form of his comrade. The jolt that shoots through him just makes everything hurt all over again.]

I'm coming. [He says, and he grits his teeth so hard it makes his jaw ache as he pushes himself up to his feet. Everything hurts. He curls a hand around his ribs and half-stumbles to where Century Egg is sitting then sinks down to his knees beside him.]

Are you all right?

[fellsound]

( his magic isn't nearly as exhausted as his body, but it's new and unfamiliar, and his control of the shadows is shaky at best.

dropping it is a relief. Red Wine being well enough to move — stumble, but that's still movement — is a relief. there are injuries on both of them, ones even Century Egg can feel (that hit to his back must have been bad, because the dull ache is still there) but he quickly decides that he's in better shape than his companion and begins to move, easily tearing off pieces of his flowing sleeves to craft makeshift bandages.

his outfit has already taken a battering, and the black does a good job at hiding the blood seeping through in several places, and he feels...

well. sore. but not incapable of working. )

You're wounded.

( come here. he can wipe up the worst of the blood along Red Wine's hairline with a strip of the cloth he tore up. )

forest of the felled / open

[fellsound]

( he's grown used to spirits hovering around by now. they occasionally appear in Camelot, trying to get attention or simply existing.

but this place... their numbers are greater, and he has to actively ignore their presence in favour of the giant as it swats away attacks with the ease of a human swatting away a fly.

ugh— he grimaces as his attempt to dodge doesn't entirely succeed, the edge of the giant's hand catching his leg and sending him stumbling back. this isn't good. attacking something of this size would be fine, were he still equipped with the abilities of a Food Soul, but without them even his claw is simply just a lump of sharp metal, not effective enough to drill through thick giant skin.

still, a weapon has one job: and that's to kill. he can do this. he'll find a way, somehow. there has to be a way, but he isn't going to get the time to think about that, not as the giant rears up for another attack on him and anyone in his vicinity. his head turns, sharp and fast and entirely unlike the still and lethargic seeming man that exists within him any other time, and without a moment's hesitation or thought, he grabs them, pulling them backwards and away from the danger zone.

they might be human. probably are. but it doesn't matter right now. they're here to stop this thing, and that's the only thing Century Egg registers. )

[silvergarden]

[Monsters are normal, in Rinea's home country; one of them stands before her as Adalhard staunchly guards her. Still, none of the Terrors of home are nearly as large as the colossal stone giant towering over them now, and it is not as if Rinea had even fought them herself. It's terrifying to be here.

It's terrifying... and yet here she is.

Rinea has seen enough of what happens when she stands idly by. She may not have battlefield prowess, but at least her time with Berkut means she can keep her wits.]

Oh--! [She gasps as Century Egg seizes her, alchemy notebook dropping from her hands and saved from under the Giant's path only by a burst of kinetic magic. Adalhard lets out a haunting, eerie bellow, redirecting the Giant away from them with lance and shield.]

[The Giant careens in the other direction, wind rushing about them. Rinea panics, grabbing at Century Egg's arm around her, unsure of whether she is protesting or entreating him.]

Please-- I must be close enough for the alchemy t-to work...!!

[fellsound]

( he stops once they're out of harms way, hears Rinea's words, and immediately flushes pink, letting her go as something unpleasantly cold and heavy weighs in his stomach.

he did something wrong, didn't he? )

S-sorry... Don't... I didn't mean to interrupt—

( it's battle, and battle means certain decisions in the moment, but there's a knot in his stomach nonetheless.

thankfully, his own familiar — a floating, ghostly blue orb that's hovering near Century Egg's shoulder — isn't exactly capable of anything quite that useful, but it does pick up on Rinea's words and dart off, searching for a spot that could bring them closer while keeping them safe. )

Hm?

( oh! he sees it. just about. a clearing a little further up that the giant isn't paying attention to. just follow the bouncing blue spirit blob to find it, Rinea. )

... Is that okay?