ADSTRING VS CANDELORO

[stepford_smiles]

Characters: Candeloro vs everyone!
When: During the event.
Where: The SW quadrant/Candeloro's barrier.
Rating: R for violence.
Summary: People fight. People die.

Comments

[angle_on_it]

High alert!

Sokka stopped, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing all the more at this sign of obvious trouble. The warrior's hand gripped his club even tighter, but... but the voices weren't lying, were they? He was alone -- more so than ever before, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. At the forge, he worked alone. On patrol, he walked alone. In the last week alone, Sokka has spent more time isolated from his friends and family than he'd managed in a long time.

An irrational anger took hold of him and he reached his hand back to unsheathe his boomerang. Aiming at one of the forms in the distance, he grunted with extra effort as he let his weapon fly and then watched in horror as it missed its mark by more than a few yards.

Considering his utter inability to cope with anything in a decent manner, perhaps these forms were right in reminding him he'll always be alone -- his loved ones would certainly be safer that way, especially if he was going to have so much trouble controlling his emotions; it didn't occur to him that exhaustion had long since settled in, or that the barrier was only exacerbating the situation by targeting his insecurities.

[stepford_smiles]

One of the forms near the bridge - the red one - disappeared, though the boomerang didn't come anywhere close to it. It reappeared shortly after, perhaps ten feet from Sokka, though its form was wavery, unstable, like the reflection balanced on the ripples on water.

A short, blunt spear lodged into the ground near his foot. A clear warning.

[angle_on_it]

His eyes narrowed at the spear and he let out a short, somewhat relieved breath without even thinking about it. This didn't bode well for anyone, and since chaos was taking over at every turn, he wasn't surprised to see such clear warnings.

"I want to talk, if the one responsible will speak," he informed the vast space in front of him. "I'll fight if I have to, but... if someone will talk, I'll listen." Not to these stupid insecurities he thought, even if they feel like the truth.

[[OOC: Did you want to continue? We could handwave if you want to move on!]]

[stepford_smiles]

[OOC: :D]

One of the almost comically large teacups balanced precariously on a saucer nearby tipped over, hit its side and shattered. The sound echoed loudly, sharply, bouncing off of the magical barrier. Runes appeared in the air as if burned into it, sizzling and smoking.

[angle_on_it]

After the initial worry brought about by the eerie sounds being created around him, the young man settled back into his skin. He was forced to squint, unsure if the writing was illegible or if he was just too tired to read it. Frustrated, he took a step in the direction of the runes and resisted the urge to reach out and swipe them away. It said something, he knew -- even repeated part of its own statement -- but he couldn't and wouldn't have the time or mental fortitude to bother trying to translate it right then.

He addressed the air, as if every molecule was under someone's control. "That's not funny or clever! If you can speak, then speak!" It came out like a command, but Sokka had little left to him to back it up. Under his breath, he added, "Or at least use a language, I know..."

[stepford_smiles]

There was a garbled keening, a sobbing cry, before a cracking sound issues off in the distance. Courbevoie, poised like a bounding cat, begins to approach. There is something very aggressive about its posture, but it keeps its distance for now as another cup of tea spills near Sokka, sending a river of it down the grass, cutting a line inches deep into the dirt.

[angle_on_it]

The spillage caused him to step back, more than willing to avoid an unnatural substance spilled in an unnatural way. A different sort of movement drew his eye, and the very bellicose nature of it put him on tenterhooks. A part of him wanted to believe this movement would lead to a conversation, but an equally large part worried it was just coming around to provide a final blow that would end his life, albeit temporarily.

"I won't back down," he said, but it was more for his own benefit than for anyone who might be listening. Sokka wanted to back down, truth be told -- he wanted to run back home, hug his loved ones, and curl up under a fire retardant blanket until the event ended. Unfortunately, he was too principled for that, and just swallowed down his worry as he tightened his grip on his club.