51 - please hold the curry
I
[ You are in a large, brightly-lit and elliptical room that manages to be simultaneously minimalistic and attractively decorated. The raised dias towards one end with a single ornate chair floating a couple feet above it suggests that this is a throne room of some sort, although nobody is sitting on the throne at the moment. Instead, a number of people are crowded around a three-dimensional image seemingly made of light, everyone talking at once in excited voices so that you can't pick out any single string of dialogue. All that is really shown on the image is a sea of barren rock, relatively featureless except for the innumerable peaks that are the only thing left vaguely resembling waves - this world can no longer hold onto its sand, let alone its water, and light left it long ago. In the center are the three chrystalline towers of a castle - persumably the one you're in. ]
Three ships have arrived from the other countries! [ Someone clad primarily in grey armor shouts this, running in. The other voices are hushed in shock. ] ... They're... attacking one another.
[ The domed ceiling above fades into a view of the sky just in time to see a dragon and... an ugly, nondescript hunk of metal, both trailing smoke and plummeting quickly. ]
That was quick.
What about Chizeta?
[ As though on cue Clef is a great cameraman, the screen flashes to show what looks like a giant teapot hovering victoriously in the sky. If teapots can look particularly victorious, that is. ]
Is that all it took? [ This comes from a very small person holding a big stick and wearing entirely too much white linen. He sounds more worried than anything else. If Chizeta dispatched the other two ships that quickly and easily, what did that say for how long the castle would last? ]
II
[ The battle lasts a few hours, but it was only a matter of time before the barrier around the castle shatters and the first bombardments shake the structure. First the domed screen above fades back into a ceiling, then the map disappears, and then the lights finally fade out. Yet the rumbling and shaking continues, and frightened voices can be heard muttering and shouting in the darkness all around. Bits of debris from the ceiling fall on your head.
Then, the worst happens. There is a sickening crack from below and the entire room lists sideways. Its occupants scream as they are thrown towards the wall, and then there's another deafening sound as the room comes to a stop and part of said wall cracks. ]
What's happening?
... We're... leaning against the western tower. [ The speaker doesn't sound well but at least he still knows where stuff is, apparently. ]
... Um. Do you guys smell something? [ Pause. ] It smells... tasty.
[ You can smell it, actually, but it smells decidedly non-tasty. Or, at least, it might be tasty if you could breathe. Before anyone can say anything else, the entire room devolves into a fit of coughing. They're all too busy trying to get the curry out of their lungs to scream or anything when another blast shakes the structure and another thunder-like crack is heard - this time from above. The next round after that smashes part of the opposite wall, and the fresh air is actually quite welcome. The groaning as the ceiling threatens to cave in, however, is not welcome. ]
[ A green-haired young man nearby, who you realize is the one who has had most of the lines throughout this ordeal, is coughing up blood. ] OH GOD, THE SPICY!
[ That is the last thing he manages to gasp before large chunks of the floor above fall on his relatively small frame. There is broken talk of surrender among the room's remaining occupants - what talk can be had among the large hunks of debris and in between fits of coughing. After all, the Prince just died. Better quit while we're ahead.
Of course, there is the question of how they are to submit their surrender to the giant flying teapot with things the way they are. ]
Do you think you can send them some kind of signal? [ The blond lady hesitantly asks the white-clad guy from earlier. It sounds like she really doesn't want it, and she doesn't want to ask him, but... ]
... Yes.
[ ooc: There are two points characters can come in from, mostly because I found it easier to break up the deam than have it as one whole big thing. |D; Any discrepancies from the way things were in canon are completely intentional. I mean, turning Chizeta's ship into a flying teapot is pretty close, considering that Clef's never seen the thing. And, yes, grey = Lafarga, green = Ferio, orange = Presea, and purple=Clef. No, this isn't his worst nightmare - I'm feeling generous today. ]
[ You are in a large, brightly-lit and elliptical room that manages to be simultaneously minimalistic and attractively decorated. The raised dias towards one end with a single ornate chair floating a couple feet above it suggests that this is a throne room of some sort, although nobody is sitting on the throne at the moment. Instead, a number of people are crowded around a three-dimensional image seemingly made of light, everyone talking at once in excited voices so that you can't pick out any single string of dialogue. All that is really shown on the image is a sea of barren rock, relatively featureless except for the innumerable peaks that are the only thing left vaguely resembling waves - this world can no longer hold onto its sand, let alone its water, and light left it long ago. In the center are the three chrystalline towers of a castle - persumably the one you're in. ]
Three ships have arrived from the other countries! [ Someone clad primarily in grey armor shouts this, running in. The other voices are hushed in shock. ] ... They're... attacking one another.
[ The domed ceiling above fades into a view of the sky just in time to see a dragon and... an ugly, nondescript hunk of metal, both trailing smoke and plummeting quickly. ]
That was quick.
What about Chizeta?
[ As though on cue Clef is a great cameraman, the screen flashes to show what looks like a giant teapot hovering victoriously in the sky. If teapots can look particularly victorious, that is. ]
Is that all it took? [ This comes from a very small person holding a big stick and wearing entirely too much white linen. He sounds more worried than anything else. If Chizeta dispatched the other two ships that quickly and easily, what did that say for how long the castle would last? ]
II
[ The battle lasts a few hours, but it was only a matter of time before the barrier around the castle shatters and the first bombardments shake the structure. First the domed screen above fades back into a ceiling, then the map disappears, and then the lights finally fade out. Yet the rumbling and shaking continues, and frightened voices can be heard muttering and shouting in the darkness all around. Bits of debris from the ceiling fall on your head.
Then, the worst happens. There is a sickening crack from below and the entire room lists sideways. Its occupants scream as they are thrown towards the wall, and then there's another deafening sound as the room comes to a stop and part of said wall cracks. ]
What's happening?
... We're... leaning against the western tower. [ The speaker doesn't sound well but at least he still knows where stuff is, apparently. ]
... Um. Do you guys smell something? [ Pause. ] It smells... tasty.
[ You can smell it, actually, but it smells decidedly non-tasty. Or, at least, it might be tasty if you could breathe. Before anyone can say anything else, the entire room devolves into a fit of coughing. They're all too busy trying to get the curry out of their lungs to scream or anything when another blast shakes the structure and another thunder-like crack is heard - this time from above. The next round after that smashes part of the opposite wall, and the fresh air is actually quite welcome. The groaning as the ceiling threatens to cave in, however, is not welcome. ]
[ A green-haired young man nearby, who you realize is the one who has had most of the lines throughout this ordeal, is coughing up blood. ] OH GOD, THE SPICY!
[ That is the last thing he manages to gasp before large chunks of the floor above fall on his relatively small frame. There is broken talk of surrender among the room's remaining occupants - what talk can be had among the large hunks of debris and in between fits of coughing. After all, the Prince just died. Better quit while we're ahead.
Of course, there is the question of how they are to submit their surrender to the giant flying teapot with things the way they are. ]
Do you think you can send them some kind of signal? [ The blond lady hesitantly asks the white-clad guy from earlier. It sounds like she really doesn't want it, and she doesn't want to ask him, but... ]
... Yes.
[ ooc: There are two points characters can come in from, mostly because I found it easier to break up the deam than have it as one whole big thing. |D; Any discrepancies from the way things were in canon are completely intentional. I mean, turning Chizeta's ship into a flying teapot is pretty close, considering that Clef's never seen the thing. And, yes, grey = Lafarga, green = Ferio, orange = Presea, and purple=Clef. No, this isn't his worst nightmare - I'm feeling generous today. ]