niteo_logs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Characters: You, you, and YOU.
When: June 11th - June 24th
Where: Nesreca. Everywhere.
Rating: PG and up.
Summary: The fog is everywhere. Sounds are heard at night. There are no inhabitable buildings. What do you do?

This is an open log for the event. Feel free to log anything and everything your characters would do during this event if you wish to!

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He likes your way of thinking Lavi though he'd rather everyone survive. A good leader makes sure even the nitwits aren't needing a revival kiss to wake their dream self as they would need to slap them so hard their dreamself falls off the respective planet they woke up on. "That we know of, with our fucking luck we might run into something. The graveyard wasn't the only haunted place in this crater of stupid shit throw at the whirling device was it?"

Karkat glanced at Allen, as he checked the area and tucked his sickles away to crouch down. "Allen, got anything to dig with?"

As unbearably stupid as their entire situation is, hearing the exchange ― especially Lavi laughing ― still makes Allen crack a smile and relax almost imperceptibly. Things have been... Awkward since that talk in the trolley car, to say the least. They are still, making this brief moment of levity all the more welcome. He murmurs something aside to Tim, sending the golem wheeling after Lavi, a hazy loop of gold through the fog before it's all but obscured. Better not to be alone out there, it can do things to you. And if Lavi does run into any trouble, well. He'll have his hammer, and Nesreca has no idea what Tim is capable of.

Falling into a crouch beside Karkat, he shoots the troll first a look of mild surprise, then a whim of a smile, quick and bright. Karkat may not realise it, but this is the very first time he has addressed Allen by name during their conversations. Every other time (only twice, in fact, if memory serves) was in angry gray text, and one of those times had been 'human Allen', which doesn't count.

"You'll see. Just tell me where to dig, and how deep and wide it should be."

He didn't ask what Allen was smiling about. They finally had a task and he was going to focus on that rather than his aching mind that was so full of hurt and rage. Karkat walked the length and width of the pit and tapped the edge he imagined in his mind. "This long and wide. Just start digging until I tell you to stop." He was in his element again, assuming the role of a leader as easily as anyone else would breathe. It wasn't something he'd done consciously or subconsciously in Nesreca in all the time he'd been here. Yet here he was moving smoothly and issuing orders just as quickly as any leader would.

"We'll need rocks for the edges so we can see it and further conceal the light." He waited to see how Allen would achieve the task.

Allen's perfectly fine with that. One of them knows what to do, the other can get it done, everyone benefits from the results. It's a good arrangement. White eyebrows knit at the instructions given, but it's not a troubled frown, just one of careful consideration. Precision isn't something he often has to concern himself with when unleashing Edge End, but he's sure he can manage it. Besides, he reasons it won't have to be too precise. They can always start with a pit that falls within the dimensions specified, then hollow out the edges to fit.

Once that's worked out, he straightens and Invocates without further ado, white rippling down his shoulders into a full, furred cowl. The nod he sends Karkat's way (mildly abashed, as though apologising for not warning him first) after the Invocation is almost an afterthought ― Karkat has already seen feathers sprouting from his arm, nothing gets weirder than that.

"You might want to stand behind me," he suggests, gesturing at Karkat with one long talon. "In case it gets messy."

He'd seen the feathers before and the invocation is a lot like anything back home. Karkat nods once and steps out of the way to let Allen work. He clearly knows his weapon and in Nesreca the one he trusts. But that doesn't mean he'll be idle. He draws his sickles and keeps watch on the area around them. Someone had to watch for trouble as they worked.

Everything's ready, but there's no immediate action from Allen. Just a light metallic shing as he flexes his claw, head bowed, followed by a beat of pensive silence.

This is only Allen's second Invocation since his return to Nesreca five weeks ago, and it already feels like breathing, the way it always had before... Well. Before. Or maybe it never did stop. He doesn't know which should bother him more, nor does he quite care at the moment. His trust (faith?) in Crown Clown may be shaken, but right here, right now, it's still wholly his to learn. And learn it he will, completely, so that the next time it matters, there will be no ground in him for anyone to stand on.

The practiced manner with which he cocks his left arm should be ample warning, then it's flashing down in a restrained, but nonetheless powerful swipe that rends a hole deep in the ground. Clods of dirt and old asphalt go flying, some in their direction, only to be deflected by the instinctive flare of Allen's mantle. They pelt the ground with oddly insubstantial sounds, tumble, then still. Silence returns all too soon, the fog thick and unyielding as though nothing had or will ever disturb it ― except it's now laced with the smell of freshly dug earth.

"Is this alright? I can widen it if you want."

It was strange to find Allen had a claw type of weapon. He thought of Nepeta with her cat puns and claws. She had loved to roleplay and was the better half of a Moirail with Equius - but over all she was a good person if he could call it that. Annoying as fuck, unfortunately flushed for him, and all around 'hero' of heart as Terezi had put it. He'd thought of that as Allen raises his arm like a machine ready to do work. As it flashes down he moves out of the way only to stare as the cloak he'd thought would stay still flares out to protect the both of them.

God-tier? No. There was no way that was possible but, all similarities in fighting styles vanished as he turned to regard the hole. He studies how deep it in then gestures to the far edge. "Scrape that a hand wider in that direction." His sickle catches what little light there is as he crouches down to widen the hole on the right side.

"Got it."

And with that, Allen gets right to work, feeling faintly ridiculous as he crouches there in the dirt and reaches to practically gouge the hole wider. Kind of like playing in the mud with Alma the other day, only so different it's not even funny. With his arm Invocated, it scarcely takes a minute to get the job done, then he's turning to peer at Karkat's side of their little project.

"Do you need help?"

The work was tedious but then, it was a lot like Sgrub and building up to the next gate. You had to suffer through it to survive. Karkat finished in no time at all and was wiping the excess sand from the black of his weapon when Allen spoke up. "No. We've got it. All we need is a ring of stones for the center and to line the edges."

Allen nods in answer and promptly deactivates. No sense in staying Invocated when he should be conserving as much of his energy as possible. Long months of never having enough to eat have conditioned his appetite into being more reasonable, but that and sheer will can only get him so far. He straightens, dusting his trousers off out of mere habit.

"There should be some by the river bank. I wonder if that's where Lavi's looking."

Karkat straightens up, his sickle still gripped tightly in one hand. He isn't about to let them be defenseless. "Didn't he go the other direction?" He pointed towards the dragon headed cane as he circles around the pit. His yellow eyes scan the fog, looking for anything to cause trouble. "Fucking place is creepy." He grumbles as he comes to stop while facing the river.

Allen moves right alongside him, making a quiet sound of agreement at the comment.

"Libitina's really outdone herself this time, what with the music and everything."

Despite those words, his tone is more dry than bothered. Music. What is up with that, seriously. Upon reaching the bank, he crouches to examine a few sizable rocks, hefting one up for Karkat to inspect.

"Will this do?" His eyes linger on Karkat's, wondering if trolls can see any better in the fog than humans, though he doesn't ask.

Edited 2011-06-25 10:08 (UTC)

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