Say, what fine weather we're having today! [Eridanus / Open]

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 1st of Spring, 512. Later morning. OOC : Continued from here. With the scrape of wet skin on cobblestone, the Gaping Maw spat Pash'nar out into Alvadas proper without a blink of its cold, stone eyes. The adrenaline was wearing off. Swallowed sea water had burned its way deep into his lungs. His teeth chattered. His limbs felt heavy like anchors. His skin ached with a deep kind of cold. It took longer than usual to stand up, numb fingers clutching at where a cloak should be but wasn't. The sailor set his jaw despite the shivering and stood on unsteady sea legs to get his bearings. It wasn't like he hadn't spent time in the City of Illusion before, but most of it was as close to the Patchwork Port or a familiar tavern or two as possible. The place changed so often as it was—in heartbeats and chimes—that the twisting of everything by the djed storm only made him feel more hopeless. Perhaps he should just start knocking on doors for shelter. He recognized nothing. The rain burned and the dark-haired navigator feared that his grip on consciousness was tenuous at best. With a determined exhale of cold breath from between his teeth, he picked a direction without any further thought and began to stumble in it. He'd either pass out in the street while seeking a hiding place from the storm that seemed determined to kill him or he'd run into some other soul braving the terrible magical mess. Either way, it was better than being back out in the ocean drowning.

[Eridanus]

It was not a good day. In fact, that was probably a misnomer. 'It was a bloody horrible, insanely ridiculous day' would be a more accurate description.

Eridanus had thought that he had experienced the worse in terms of city-wide devastation and destruction back in Winter. He had been called up by agents of Ionu at the behest of the Alvadas Government to fulfil a certain prophecy that involved legends coming back from the dead and enacting city-wide genocide and destruction in the form of explosions and invading golems.

This was worse. Much worse.

What started out as a simple stroll around the city became a test of survival. It was like being in the midst of a meteor storm, except that the meteors were made of invisible, wild djed. The air was hazy and crackling with power, and he suspected that if he had attempted to use any personal magics it would be wildly twisted out of control.

Already, he had to knock out Yonkvik, a fellow morpher and Surveyor agent of the Department of Illusions because that idiot tried to morph. The wild djed in the area caused his arm to mutate unpredictably, and only by knocking him out and disrupting his concentration did he manage to stem the overgiving.

Fortunately members of Ionu's Mercy had appeared and taken him into custody, but had refused Eridanus shelter because it was already packed full of injured or the dying. It was fine, he was still healthy, he could run. All he needed to find was proper shelter. Houses and buildings were not safe, he had seen one of the two-story shop-houses combust and disintegrate suddenly.

The underground.

The streets below, though dangerous in their warped illusions, would be safer in comparison to this horrific madness outdoors. Hidden deep within the city, wrapped multiple times by the strength of Ionu's illusions, the Underground would be his best bet.

Running quickly through the areas of Alvadas, he optimized his acrobatic parkour abilities to avoid and dodge incoming debris and obstacles while maintaining a reasonable running speed. The wild-eyed vantha sped through the city, searching for the secret 'Underground Staircase' that would lead him to safety that had not already been demolished by the raging storm.

There was no one around him. No one insane enough to run out in the open. Everyone else had already found shelter, were hiding in their buildings and praying they would get through, or already dead, as evidenced by the multitudes of bodies littering the streets.

Until a lone svefra dragged himself across the road.

[Pash'nar]

Dragging was perhaps the most accurate of words. Pash'nar hardly felt like he was moving, delirious, cold, and confused. The streets moved. The djed storm was wreaking havoc. His body ached. His lungs burned. He had almost drowned. Really, all the tattooed sailor wanted to do was curl up in the street for a while and nap. The cold had made him tired. So petching tired. He scrambled through the destruction and chaos, finally stumbling toward the long, windowless wall of a building. He ran his fingers along the brick with a groan, leaning against it for support. It certainly wasn't sanity. He glanced up from his feet and from the cobblestones, slumping against the building to shiver and wheeze. This place was almost petching worse than the sea— What was that? No, who was that? Someone else was out in this mess. Someone else was risking death. Maybe that someone else was feeling helpful. "Oi!" Pash shouted, voice strained and hoarse. It hurt, "O'er here!" He didn't have the strength to wave with much enthusiasm, one tattooed arm raised to flop about pathetically for a heartbeat or two before it fell again against the wall, keeping the dark-haired navigator from falling over. He wasn't sure anything could keep him conscious much longer, "Hello! Are y'headed t'ward shelter? Is there sucha thing in this petchin' city?" His teeth chattered and his words faded, but he thought something hard. Very, very hard… Gods, take me with you. Anywhere is better than here.

[Eridanus]

Eridanus leaped over another huge piece of rock in his way, his body moving like a seasoned parkour artist. Having gone closer to the stumbling man, he noticed the multitude of tattoos throughout the man's body. The other thing he noticed was the blue, blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean.

"Yeah! What the hell are you doing out here? C'mon!" He shouted back, running over to the man in a a matter of moments. He headed towards the next alley which should probably hold the stairway to the Underground, but he turned around and realize that he was not moving as fast he wanted him to be.

"Ah, for Leth's sake," Eridanus muttered, going back and pulling the man's arm over his shoulder. "Try to keep up and get used to hopping fast," He advised, and with that he began moving as fast as he could towards the alley.

He began pulling flux strands throughout his body, increasing the support on his shoulder to lighten the man's weight while directing strength towards his legs for to support the heavier weight while maintaining a reasonable speed. His body seemed to hum with internal power, though it would not noticed unless a fellow flux user or Auristics user was nearby. However, this was translated into a noticeable increase in speed, and if the man managed to hop fast enough they were moving at quite a good pace.

"You aren't from around here, are you?" the vantha questioned as he inhaled and exhaled deeply to force his breathing at a regular pace so that he did not tire quickly. They were moving fast through the alleys, and buildings blended one after the other. All similar in their varying stage of collapse and forced deterioration.

"Bloody storm, ain't seen something like this before," He muttered to himself.

[Pash'nar]

Pash'nar inhaled sharply, considering an answer to the hurried questions in the chaos, but he managed a tired groan instead. The half-drowned navigator was not particularly capable of complying with the other man's requests to keep moving or hop quickly. While he was more than grateful for the happy turn of events to have assistance, being tired and numb made it all the more difficult for the both of them. "Jus'bout petchin' drown at th'port s'all." He finally managed to growl through too-perfect teeth, cerulean eyes rolling as he let Eriadnus drag him through the streets. To his credit, he was trying not to be a useless, shivering lump, but it was far from so simple. There was no point in attempting to get his bearings in the petching City of Illusion, not on a good day, and certainly not in the middle of some petching storm. What kind of storm was this anyway? It was surely magic. But, the sea? And Alvadas proper? Where else? Pash'nar made every attempt not to drag along as parts of the city were devoured angrily around them, "You shouldn't be out in this weather, either. So, I could say th'same to you." The tattooed sailor managed an exhausted, wry grin, thinking his rescuer at least slightly familiar, though he was bordering on delirious with hypothermia as it was. The gash across his chest ached and his lungs still protested breathing too hard, "An' I ain't any more from 'ere than you, perhaps."

OOCSorry, it's short! Stupid client work squishing my focus.

[Eridanus]

"One hell of a storm. Never seen anything like this," Eridanus muttered. "Careful!" A random log fell from one of the nearby devastated buildings in the alley, and he pushed the sailor away and leaped off himself, letting the debris land on the ground safely.

"I've been here for quite a while, I know somewhere safe," He remarked, moving over to help the man up again. The two of them continued on, and they finally reached one of the entrances of the Underground.

Unfortunately, the alley led to a dead end, and the door that led to the Underground was razed to the ground. The burned out door frame was the only thing standing, and there was nothing behind it.

"Ah... burning shykes," He cursed. "We gotta find another entryway, c'mon let's hurry!"

A huge lightning struck a chimney beside them, letting out a deafening sound on impact, and he jumped in surprise, cussing again as he led the way out of the oppressive alley. He continued regulating the flux between his upper torso and his lower torso, to provide the strength to haul another man's weight while giving his legs the stamina to move at a decent pace.

They were now out on the streets, moving across a violet bridge that fortunately still had a path across emerald green water, though parts of the stone bridge was already crumbling. He turned to look at his companion, and something strange struck him. He could not quite see the man's features, for it was awash with grime and bedraggled with random debris from the sea.

Yet, there was something about this person's accent and way of speech that seemed familiar. The svefran accent, that sailor lingo and that rough voice. He believed he had heard it back when he was in Zeltiva. A svefra that beheld a similar secret as himself.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong... but... are you Pash'nar? From Zeltiva?" Eridanus asked even as he continued dragging the svefra onward with his flux-powered strides.

[Anishna]

The worst thing about being lost was being lost as the world ended. When the invisible, cold, clutching hands of djed ran their scaly arms over Anishna at first, she had misinterpreted the feeling to be the oncoming rage of Ionu in the form of a storm. As the feeling grew, and the city rumbled in the distance, Anishna began to feel the faintest web of fear being woven. She got up from her seat before the Gaping Maw, her mandolin clutched securely in her nimble fingers, and tilted up her face. She couldn't see it, not yet, but the untamed djed released from some unseen point in the world waged war on the barrier of protection around Alvadas. They fought, growing power to the waning. Alvadas was losing this invisible war, and before Anishna's eyes, things were beginning to... change. The Vantha yelped as a nearby tree went from alive, branches waving in agitation, to glass, hard and unmoving. In another instant, the tree broke apart, seemingly stuck by some invisible mallet and fracturing into a hundred thousand pieces of glass. Blood licked down her cheek from where a shard had tasted her skin, and she reacted, a moment too late, with a sharp gasp and a flinch. Green eyes were wild, fear a heavy influence on her as she reached down and plucked one of the leaves, kept intact after its fall. She looked at it, ignoring the roar of the invisible monster that had done this, slipping into the well of djed she called her own and bringing it to her senses. The aura vision she now wielded revealed nothing about the leaf but faint traces of pink. It was as though the aura had been stripped away when the tree was destroyed. Brave Vantha eyes rose now to the wall, that straight expanse that had taken the place of the Maw in the game Alvadas played on itself. An explosion of violet, red, blue, yellow and every other colour there could ever be assaulted her eyes. A metallic taste clouded her tongue, touched with bitter, sweet and sour. Anishna reeled from it, screaming at the pain, but her eyes wouldn't close. The colour was burned into her eyes, the flavour of raw djed remained on her tongue. She turned, blind to all but the faint auras of the living fleeing the storm. Energy, pure energy, settled over the city. The war that Anishna had heard being waged had been won, and for the worst, the djed she had looked at settled heavily over Alvadas. Wind picked up, lightning struck out of nowhere, and it rained, as Anishna had originally believed. Her eyes began to clear as she stumbled blindly, destruction rattling the world around her. Her head still hurt, her eyes remained horribly sore and out of focus, but at least she could see something. She slumped against the crumbling wall of a nameless home and remained there for some time, merely staring at her hands and waiting for whatever she had seen to make its way over to her and pluck out her life. She didn't know where to run, not from something like this, and against her instinct of self preservation, she had settled in for death. Until people ran by, unnaturally fast, and a sudden scream of thunder made her jump to her feet. Her mandolin, innocent and unknowing, was gripped tighter in a blood-streaked hand. Anishna looked after the two men and turned to run after them. People with that kind of urgency had some place to hide. She ran, but was weak after the unexpected and unwarranted overgiving, her mind buzzing with all kind of whispers and heavy with exhaustion. She just had to keep her eyes on them, she hoped, and pray to Ionu not to move the city as she did.

OOCI hopped in, I hope that's okay. Correct me if my interpretation of the storm is wrong, and I shall give you cookies.

[Pash'nar]

Half-drowned was certainly not the best condition to be fleeing the djed storm in, but they were doing a decent enough job avoiding death. The tattooed sailor was grateful for that, staggering along and managing to roll and dodge when indicated by his fast-moving companion, scraped hands and knees a worthy sacrifice to keeping the rest of himself intact. Pash'nar laughed at the sound of his name, hoarse and salty, silently thankful that Ionu seemed to have a decent sense of humor amidst the chaos, "Oh, aye, 'tis me. Only us petchin' hard t'get rid of celestials out runnin' in the mess, eh?" He grinned—so tired—wishing very much that he didn't need as much support at this particular moment in time. He opened his mouth to remember the other man's name—Eri? Eridanus? Eri-something?—only to have the movement of another person catch the edge of his cerulean gaze. "Petch, there's more'n'us out here after all." His head lolled in the woman's direction. His offered, calloused hand was hardly one of a strong grip at the moment. The girl with the mandolin would have to hang on as he attempted not to be too much of a limp fish, taking some strain off of the other man by putting some exhausted efforts into moving his own limbs. Poor Eri had a difficult task, it seemed. "Ain't much else to do but keep up! It might be safe somewhere." Pash attempted to be cheerful in the storm, ears still ringing from the thunder and eyes feeling a bit seared from the magical energy disguised as lightning. Did he believe what he said, though? He wasn't entirely sure. He'd made it this far. Glancing back to their rescuer, "'Least I'm hopin' he knows."

[Eridanus]

"Tsk. It's Eridanus," The vantha replied conversationally when he spotted the subtle thought processes evident in the svefra's eyes. Or at least, evident only to those boasting abnormal senses of observation. His words had a tone of cheerfulness in it, though falsely injected in to prevent the mood from becoming too depressing. Calamities tended to be depressing.

Pash'nar had turned his head with a remark, bringing his attention to another survivor out there. A vantha holding a mandolin, though her appearance showed that she had sustained her own share of injuries.

He sighed.

"Yes, I do know where we're going. The only problem is getting there before we - " Eridanus started to reply to the svefra's comment when a loud crackle of thunder interrupted him. The crackle was followed by a strange purple flash in the sky, suddenly disintegrating the building in front of them.

"Petchin-" He yelped, startled. "Good thing we're slow, eh?" He muttered to Pash'nar in an attempt to defuse the situation.

"Mandolin girl!" He called out to the vantha. "Try to keep up with us, eh? My arms are already full from this guy."

With that, he struggled on. His body was tired from the exhaustion of all these movement, and his limbs were beginning to shiver from the continuous use of flux. Soon he would have to stop using magic to boost his muscles, and he was not sure if he could rely on his fatigued body to keep this up.

Ionu, I hope - really hope - the next entrance is open.

[Anishna]

Anishna ached as they moved, the extent of her injuries beginning to wear on her stamina again. Her breaths came raggedly past the dry skin of her lips. It was hard to believe that just half a bell or so ago, she was sitting by the wall and playing her instrument under the branches of the tree. She could feel the sharp edges of the glass leaf in her pocket now. She heard the other Vantha's voice as though he were far away, and even that other guy sounded distant and hollow. Were her ears hurt? She didn't know. She nodded slowly and attempted to pick up her pace, but her companions seemed to be flagging under stress and exhaustion as well. Suddenly, light flashed across the sky, lurid violet that burned her eyes further. A moment or two late, she stumbled to a halt and looked where a building had once stood but no longer existed. Were there people inside? Were they dead now? These thoughts flashed quickly through her mind, but she couldn't think long on them before they were off again, through the warping, winding streets. As they ran, it felt like cold, clammy fingers were pressing down upon the back of her neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms, but she pressed on, expecting some other calamity to shatter the other buildings, or turn the entire city to water or something. For once, the changes that occured in Alvadas were not exciting.