nightlogs | SLEIGH BELLS RING ❄ MINGLE

SLEIGH BELLS RING ❄ MINGLE

SLEIGH BELLS RING

Those that escape from the theater all seem to come out through the same doors. When they get there, they can see that the theater isn't actually a building. There's only a free-standing set of theater doors on the playground. At the rear side of them is a brick wall.

Those that exit will find they can't re-enter.

None of the humans have seemed to notice the door or them, even those driving by.

Not everyone escapes at the same time. It comes in fits and starts, them filtering of the theater. Some can walk out mostly unharmed, some limp out, some come out supporting each other.

What they find outside is... uncanny. There in the playground is a massive sleigh, but one that looks not-exactly-traditional, with equipment and boosters that look almost like a mix of technology and something magical.

It's been expanded into many carriages, almost like a roller coaster. Harnessed to it are eight massive reindeer, champing slightly at their bits. It appears the people that attacked and created the theater are at least long gone. That means that as people slowly filter out they can check up on each other, provide first aid, and reassure each other.

OOC DETAILS
❅ Status effects: Any injuries or damage that happens to a character will stick when they leave the Multiplex. That means that someone that gets facehugged by a facehugger will have an alien larva problem that may be causing some serious indigestion soon. Anyone that gets Borg-nanited through the neck will start having the nanites take over them. However the myth healing will slow these processes down until they can get to the Pole, and there are magical means at the Pole to help the characters survive this.

❅ First Aid/Other Supplies: The sleigh will have magically anticipated their needs. While it won't have the antivenom for Kaa because only a magical plant that grows at the Pole can cure the bites, it will have plenty of well-stocked general first aid kits. Applying first aid can help the myth healing heal someone more quickly and is important for injured characters that opted out of the myth healing.

❅ Timing: People can bendytime the timing of when their characters have escaped to play in this and "Let's All Go To The Movies" at the same time. People can also intro here late if they need to wrap some things up in the other post first.

❅ Intro: Players can use this post to intro instead if that's their preference. You can just assume your characters had to run from scary things in the theater and either handwave their circumstances, or assume your character found a way out more quickly than others.

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[The god she's next to very much isn't well. He's sitting on the ground, bitten leg extended, pale and sweating and shaking. His eyes are closed at first, but they snap open and look in Nyara's direction when she speaks. But not right at her; instead they dart around, looking at things she can't see. They're not real. It must be the poison. They are illusions. Only the voices offering help are real. Focus on those. Repeating that in his mind is just about all that's keeping him from slipping into panicked delirium.

[He swallows and tries to answer.]

I-I- was bitten. [Waving at his leg. The wound, up above the boot, is angry and red and shows the spreading taint, though to his eyes, it looks like it's rotting away.] Poison. I-it is causing- hallucinations, weakness...

[He does look miserable and is throwing off reeling, alarmed feelings. Is he in a state to be a danger to her? Could be. If she helps now she'll look better later. Maybe have allies in this strange place. Nyara doesn't fully let her guard down and crouches close by, still not making direct eye contact.]

I am not sure I can help, but - maybe. Will you let me touch you?

[Need works better with contact. Nyara ignores the sword grumbling in the back of her head, about being taken for granted; she's known her long enough by now to tell that the spirit just really likes complaining.]

[Loki doesn't notice the lack of eye contact. He gets a vague impression of his benefactor as small and feminine and before he can register more she's morphed into Natasha Romanov, and she's staring right into his eyes, full of hate and triumph.]

I- will try not to flinch. ["Good, hold nice and still while we test the weapon on you," the image says. He swallows and closes his eyes again.] Give me- a second's warning.

[Nyara's pretty tall, but she's still undernourished-thin, with such a tendency to shrink back and look submissive that she generally comes off as smaller than she is. Despite Need's work on her vocal chords, giving her control over her tone, her voice is still low and a bit hoarse.]

I will touch your leg at about the knee. Please...

[don't do anything to her, even with Empathy and Need's guidance everyone here is so strange, and Nyara's experience of strangers is very very mixed.]

...tell me when.

[He grabs for metal bars of the ruined jungle gym, gripping them tightly. Even though his eyes are closed, the poison is still making him hear things. Now, it's the whir of Mjolnir. His fists clench, warping the metal, and tries not to imagine the hammer coming down on his leg. There's no danger here. Whoever this is, she only wants to help.]

I am- ready.

[Nyara lowers one hand to touch him. Her hand is about halfway between human and some kind of cat, in a kind of unpleasant way - her fingers are big and knobbly with distinct pads, though her claws are retracted and there isn't any fur on her palms, and her pads are softer and more sensitive than those of something that walks on them.

Her other hand is half raised as if against a blow because Need is very aware of how close Loki is to treating her girl as a threat and that he's got quite a lot of power. She can counter if he lashes out, physically or with magic; she's defended her bearers against things that called themselves gods before, though they weren't quite like him.

Assuming he doesn't, Need examines him as only an ancient angelic mage-spirit sealed into an enchanted sword can do, taking in his physiology. She's an expert in how the human body works and this is very distinctly not one of those despite its appearance, but many of the same principles apply. A body is a record of fear, joy, sorrow, struggle, long effort, things done to it... an artwork created by the one who owns it, and Need does appreciate art. Even if she does, to extend the metaphor, always quietly want to take a bite of it.

She can't just counter the venom but she can suppress its effects somewhat, while in contact through Nyara. Make the pain less, make the hallucinations less real-feeling.]

Edited 2023-08-11 14:51 (UTC)

[He does flinch a little when she touches him, the small sting of pain momentarily magnified to feel like lightning. But the pain isn't excruciating, and it quickly returns to its normal level, and he reminds himself that there's no enemy here to torture him.

[He's not sure what she's doing, but he does notice the mocking voices become less solid, more easy to dismiss as his imaginings. He opens his eyes, and while he can still see them, they're imperfect illusions now.

[He also finally gets a decent look at who's helping him. The feline aspects stand out and jog a name in his memory.]

Catra?

[She settles back a bit, lowering the defensive arm, keeping her other hand in place so Need can work through her.]

My name is Nyara. Are you still seeing things?

[Nyara's a little bit... the ratio of feline to human is weird. Slightly disquieting. She's more feline than Catra, with a cleft in her upper lip and an almost-cat nose, but not feline enough to be in the 'anthropomorphic cat' category, and her ears are more on the elfin but furry side.]

[He doesn't notice the small details, but the voice and her whole demeanor- that's not at all like Catra. He's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that she's a stranger after all.]

Ah, no. Well, I am, but it is no longer- overwhelming. Thank you. You remind me of- someone I know.

Are you from- [what was their realm called?] ...Etheria?

[Nyara stirs, not sure if being a reminder is good. Well, he didn't speak the name with hatred, anyway.

Need has given her a summation of other realities after they found themselves in a strange city, before the fearling situation manifested. It's still a strange thought.]

No. The world is called Velgarth. I... am from a region known as the Pelagirs, which is poorly settled. The magical contamination is too great for most folk to risk. And you?

[He wouldn't call Catra a friend- they were too similar to really get along- but he doesn't wish harm on her. And this place has been nothing but raining harm on the new arrivals and will probably keep doing so with only slight respites.

[He shakes his head slowly.] I have not heard of that realm. It sounds- like you are used to strangeness- and danger? [He tries at a weak smile.]

I- am Loki. God of Mischief. [A long pause.] Once Prince of Asgard. [There's pain in saying that.] Lately I have been taken from- one universe to another. This will be my- fourth new home, presuming I survive. [He gives a small rueful chuckle; how shameful would it be, to have lived through so much only to die to a snake in a world after less than a day?]

Is this your- first realm other than your home? I- had hoped to explain things- to others who were confused. I am- afraid I might not be- particularly coherent like this, but- you may ask, if you wish.

Danger, perhaps. [Yes.] But strangeness is a matter of perspective. I was simply... born into poor circumstances, and eventually I took my chance and ran away.

[She says this without pride or triumph. While Nyara's glad she left, it's meant new dangers and more complicated uncertainty, even before arriving suddenly in this New Jersey. And of course there's the prospect of being caught after having fully committed to defiance.]

My teacher and friend told me of this sort of thing. [She's not letting on that she's carrying said teacher-friend with her, but there's a certain pride or wonder in the words. Most of the hallucinations are of people or things Loki knows, but there might be a moment, also, of a tall, scarred old woman standing with Nyara, laying her hand over the girl's.] She said that normally there is the chance to return in time, but that for the unfortunate that can take years. It must be terrible to be uprooted so many times.

What does a god of mischief... do? [Need's explained, too, that all kinds of terms that mean specific things in Velgarth may mean other things elsewhere.]

I cannot imagine living- in a place of strong magical contamination leads to much consistency.

[He gives her a little but heartfelt smile.] Ah, you are fortunate to have met a familiar face who is also familiar with these places. [He waves a hand weakly.] It is not so hard for me to be uprooted. I had already been banished from my home and lived on the move even before I was taken from my own universe. Indeed, in these places, I do not have the same need to avoid settling down.

What do I do? Whatever I please, within certain bounds. God of Mischief is a title earned by my behavior, not a requirement of my powers. Asgard was never very fond of my trickery, even when I use it in its service.

Ordinary people do not settle in such places, no. Even if they clear the land, their livestock - their children - are often misborn.

[that's all she wants to say about why she looks Like This to a sick stranger right now.

A timid return smile!]

She is very wise, and has traversed the worlds herself before coming to me. [:Flatterer,: Need tells her.] It sounds a difficult way to live. How long have you gone on like this, cast from one to another?

I mean no disrespect, but - why do you advertise this, this mischief? [Her first thought, when it comes to deception and trickery, is sabotage, assassination, and mind-twisting, things her father enjoys.]

Sounds like- a lonely life. I hope you will not be overwhelmed- by so much company.

It is- harder than my previous life- as a prince of Asgard. But the wandering, in my own universe, was my choice. It has been only a few years, the mere blink of an eye for us.

[Why does he? He pauses while he thinks about it, ignoring the sneers from the hallucinations.] It- is one of the few titles I may still fairly claim for myself. [One remaining point of pride.]

[It's very overwhelming! Even finding herself in New Jersey was a terrible shock. If Need wasn't here, Nyara doesn't know what she would do.]

It was much better to live in a ruin on furs than on, then in, greater luxury sometimes before then.

[Between Loki's unfamiliar physiology and the equally unfamiliar profile of the venom, Need's not making any further progress on the bite. She doesn't want just anyone knowing about her, so she and the girl have agreed to act like Nyara just owns a magic artifact.

She makes nervous eye contact now, or at least, looks him in the eye.]

...You must know, I can't Heal this. Only keep it suppressed, and when I let go that will fade and the visions will intensify again. I did not catch all that this Frost said - will there be help coming?

[He nods, slowly.] When that luxury comes with a price.

Unfortunately we are unlikely to have much choice here. That is often the way of these places, and with enemies such as those after us... Still, we do appear to have some native allies. And a mission.

[He sighs heavily] As to be expected. Well. Judging by the vehicle, we will have help coming. Perhaps you could help me reach it, so other rescuers need not drag me there?

[Not that Nyara had ever consistently had luxury. Living in the ruin has meant eating more, and more regularly, and having blankets and furs to sleep on that don't get taken away, and a fire, and a view...]

Of course. [She looks Loki up and down. He's not huge, if she has to pick him up she probably can, and definitely if Need helps her out, but Need would rather she didn't just haul someone up.]

Can you stand? If you put an arm over my shoulder, perhaps?

I think I can manage, with some help. Be careful about trying to take my full weight. Us gods are stronger than we appear, which means we are often heavier than you would expect.

[He eyes the sword] I would not mind having a walking stick, though I guess you would not wish to part with your weapon.

I should manage, I hope.

[Nyara rises and offers a hand to pull him upright, hopefully putting more of his weight on the leg that wasn't bitten. She's rather thin, but tall.]

Need is not large enough for such a use anyway.

[Need has no indignation about the prospect, or if she does she doesn't let it on. Comes with being an inanimate object.]

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SLEIGH BELLS RING ❄ MINGLE

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