my oath shall be sped;

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? The January TDM.
WHEN? The mythic dimension of Vorspiel.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME;

Vorspiel; a land of song.

arrival for new recruits

You wake up in a patch of verdant forest, with the birds chirping all around you. You're not in a clearing; your body lies between the trees. Near you, a frail woman with tired eyes rocks back and forth. You have none of your clothing, just black military-issued underwear, and none of your previous possessions beyond the one you chose (if you remember choosing) to bring with you.

When the tired woman notices you've come to, she speaks in a tongue you won't recognize, but somehow understand, in tilting tones that somehow always rhyme. Tired and sorrowful though she is, if you have questions as to what's going on, she'll answer: you are a member of COST, a paramilitary organization of time travelers fighting against the Regency, a tyrannous kingdom of the future who are trying to stamp out freedom and individuality in the name of peace.

She will provide you with the clothing necessary to fit in, and show you how to use your BCE implant to look up information on this dimension and its social and political mores. She won't let you leave until you're properly dressed to fit in, but once you are, she'll wish you luck. She thinks you'll need it.

And, she says as you depart, if you see the Gods, spit on them. They will do you no favors here.

ARRIVAL FOR VETERANS

While on BASE, you'll receive a message on your BCE.

URGENT MISSION: VORSPIEL UNDER MAJOR ATTACK. ALL POSSIBLE VOLUNTEERS NEEDED TO PROVIDE AID.

ACCEPT: Y / N ?

Selecting 'Y' will instantly teleport you to Vorspiel. Or maybe you're not the volunteering type, but your BCE glitches and signs you up anyway. Them's the breaks.

When you appear in Vorspiel, you'll find yourself in that same forest with the same woman who is ushering new recruits. She will give you clothes and wish you luck-- though luck, she says, is something true heroes have in short supply.

VORSPIEL

Regardless of how you got here, your BCE will have a short rundown of the situation once you arrive.

Vorspiel is a mythical, magical dimension rich in rare and precious resources. During the course of the war, it's been fought over by both sides. The Regency has recently allied with the leader of the misty country of Nibelheim to issue what is known as a Time Break; a sort of spell only possible in ancient dimensions such as these. Essentially, linear time has been destroyed in this dimension. Everything is happening at once, simultaneously and perpetually, a never ending cycle of lives and deaths and battles. While Vorspiel is a vast dimension, its borders have become warped; it is possible to walk from one country to another across the sea in a matter of moments, by accident. While the BCE is trying to send people to Nibelheim, it's entirely possible it misses the mark completely, or sends them to several places before they reach Nibelheim.

This chaos is meant to be a punishment: bow down before the Regency, or nothing will ever be the same again.

There is good news, though. Vorspiel is a dimension of inherent magic; singing or humming or whistling certain magical tunes will have an inherent effect upon one's surroundings. The BCE lists all the spells, though it notes that some have varying results (AKA go wild, guys, have fun), and the ones named after people will do little unless the person in question is present (a statistical unlikelihood).

As you enter different parts of Vorspiel, the BCE will sometimes give you different assignments, prompting you to take this action or that. If you have any questions about how this setting works, feel free to ask!

THE RHEIN

You come upon a giant river with clear and beautiful water. The sun shines down upon it in yellow light, and wherever the light touches it, gold floats to the surface of the water. The BCE will prompt you to fetch as much of this gold as you can-- it is an extremely powerful magical resource, rheingold-- but it will not warn you about the Rheinmaidens.

The rheinmaidens are mermaids, essentially, and at first, they are very friendly and gentle, singing nonsense songs and welcoming you to their home. But as soon as you begin to make any moves toward the gold, they will curse you, dive for you with surprising speed, and attempt to drown you. They will be vicious, and their natural element is water. You're in their territory, taking their things, as far as they are concerned. They have every right to kill you.

Killing the rhienmaidens will work... for a minute or so. And then they will rise again. Wounds will undo themselves-- whether they're inflicted by the rheinmaidens or you. Drowning doesn't seem permanent either-- you're pulled under, and all air escapes you, death befalls you... and then you wake up a moment later, standing on the shore.

Time has been fundamentally broken. Nothing done here is permanent.

WALHALL

You stand outside a fortress bathed in rainbow light atop a glorious mountain. Around you, the air is cool and still, and the roof of the sky seems terribly close. No matter how far toward the fortress you run, you can never make it inside. And thundering footsteps are coming just around the mountain pass, coming for you.

Lumbering giants wander around the fortress, searching for something they mutter and murmur is theirs. If they see anyone around, they will attempt to carry them off, kidnapping them for unknown purposes. They do not seem interested in eating their catch; they seem more interested in kidnapping it. Still, they are dangerous, brutish and sloppy with their strength. It is best to avoid them if possible, hiding in the trees.

Or perhaps you'd rather fight these fifteen-foot monstrosities on your own?

Of course, if you kill them, they just... come back. Death cannot be permanent in a place where time has been caught in an endless loop.

NIBELHEIM

The misty country of Nibelheim is located within a network of caverns dug into the side of a great mountain. It's a foggy, polluted place that brings to mind a city on the brink of the industrial revolution, not unlike Victorian London, though Nibelheim is entirely underground. There is smoke and smog everywhere, and living conditions are generally poor. The rich class is one family, ruled by a Nibelung named Alberich. He has various objects of great power that keep him enslaving his fellow Nibelung, working constantly in factories of his making. He has allied with the Regency to achieve this goal, and the time break within his home dimension is due in large part to his planning and plotting.

Human visitors to Nibelheim aren't unheard of, due to trade, though they are in a minority. Nibelungs, for the record, look and feel and act completely human, but they are ultimately alien, averaging a foot shorter in height at least, having naturally sallow skin, large eyes, hairless regardless of gender, and long, nimble fingers. They are a race of people made to live underground, and it shows; most can see in the dark, and climb nearly any surface. They are famed as smiths and metalworkers. Most just want to make a living and feed their families, though Alberich's clan keeps them in line.

Your duty here, the BCE says, is to try and befriend these people, the average Nibelung, and spark some kind of revolt. There are Regency spies everywhere, however, so be careful; you cannot call for rebellion in an open voice on every street corner. No, it's better, safer, to be subtle about it. Win the trust of a local businessman, seek out influential Nibelungs and figure out their opinions. Be tactical, be clever, be quick.

And avoid Alberich and his family at any cost.

But if you can, try and save some of the Nibelungs. Due to Alberich's machinations, Nibelheim is the only part of Vorspiel that has been untouched by the time break, but that will only stay true for so long. If you can convince any Nibelungs to join COST, they will do so willingly; you'll just have to escort them to safe places in hidden back rooms within dingy bars and forgotten libraries, the places where COST cells have been fermenting under the nose of the Regency. Don't get caught, and be careful; save as many as you can.

AT THE BASE OF A GREAT TREE

A man lays dying. He looks very much like the woman who introduced you to this place. Regardless, he lies in a pool of his own blood, a stab wound through his heart. The time break keeps him from ever truly passing into the next life; as soon as he dies, his eyes open, and he begins the process of his last painful moments once again.

Each time, he begs you to avenge him and find his love (or sometimes his sister; he seems very confused), and if you ask him his name, he will only respond that he is, "the woeful one". And then he will die again, for the hundredth time.

In the trees, warriors watch, poised to attack. They see you communing with their enemy, and they wish to defeat you as well. These warriors care little for your protest; they are locked in an endless battle that they cannot free themselves from, and you have just joined it.

IN THE FOREST

There is a serpent, larger than anything you have ever seen, sitting at the mouth of a cave. It sits upon a hoard of gold that may be familiar to you. It may not, but the BCE will inform you of what it is: rheingold, an incredibly potent and valuable magical resource.

Regardless, the serpent will attack anyone that comes near it or its hoard, even by accident. It, too, is caught in an endless loop of battle long over, for it calls you boy and foolish young man regardless of who or what you are. It speaks in a deep and sonorous voice, and will not stop until its head is cut off. The creature is obnoxiously large and highly dangerous, and battle with it will be long and painful, not least because, like everything in this place where time has been so fundamentally broken, it is very bad at staying dead.

Be careful when you fight it -- if you accidentally get some of its blood in your mouth, you will be suddenly and temporarily able to understand the language of birds. Which is cool, but also, you know, distracting.

The birds will tell you to find the Valkyries, who will bring you great fame and glory. They will also tell you to run, for Fafnir does not die so easy.

AT THE END OF THE WORLD

You are at a funeral. A golden-haired woman stands upon an unlit pyre, standing next to the man who, she sings, is her dead husband. Her song is beautiful and loud and incomprehensible, and when the pyre is lit, the fire swallows her whole. But the burning doesn't stop there; it begins to destroy the assembled mourners, the forest around it, the castle, the very river burns. The fabric of the world crackles and sets to flame.

Run from the flame all you like, but it always licks at your heels.

There is a trick, though, to saving your life. If one is truly unafraid of death, the fire cannot harm you, or anyone you touch. The BCE won't warn you of this; it doesn't know. But if you are unafraid, you can simply walk through the flames unharmed.

It will bring you to a wide field atop a mountain, where a woman lies sleeping. It's the same woman at the funeral, peaceful in sleep, unmoving, unsinged. She can be awoken by a kiss.

Of course, awakening her will begin the cycle again: the pyre, the fire, the fearlessness, the clearing. Over and over again, endlessly, until the BCE manages to pull you out.

This is the will of the Regency.

As a final note: This will not be the main mission for January. This TDM is meant as a one-off to dump characters into a setting they don't have to read a ton of infopages for, while still getting a sense of what Agoge could be (and as always, this TDM is game canon).

The main mission for January will be the Gallipoli campaign, as detailed here. Future missions for Agoge are always listed here months in advance.

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Comments

midnighter | vet | ota.

[thingpuncher]

a. WALHALL.

Of course he signs up. Of course he ends up on the edge of a fucking mountain. Of course he immediately switches into his uniform. Blending in is for chumps, anyway. He's on duty.

The mountain is huge, and the giants are huger. Midnighter has only his fists and a very cocky smile. He stands right where they can see him, and holds out both fists, an obvious fighting stance. The one nearest stares down at him dumbly from fifteen feet up.

Midnighter doesn't seem fazed. Finally, some action. "Fi fie fo fum, motherfucker."

The giant punches the ground, but Midnighter has more than enough time to dodge. By the time the giant's noticed, he's running up it's arm.

b. AT THE END OF THE WORLD.

Midnighter, however, is afraid of death. He's afraid of dying unfilfilled, useless, stupid, never getting what he wants out of life and going out in a whimper instead of a bang. It would take a lot to kill him, but being consumed by flames? That'd do it.

This fear isn't something that keeps him up at night, doesn't haunt his thoughts, but... It's still there. There enough for the flames to judge him unworthy, to eat up his coat and melt the rubber of his boots.

Just because he's afraid of death, though, doesn't mean he won't die to save someone else. He sees someone else caught in the flame, maybe running like him, maybe not. Doesn't matter. He throws off his coat and tosses it to them. "This'll hold it off for a while. C'mon." He reaches for their hand.

c. NIBELHEIM.

The whole dragon thing was stupid when its head grew back, but at least he got something neat out of it. Midnighter, covered in dragon's blood, drags a dragon's head around the dusty, dirty streets of Nibelheim with him. At least there aren't any birds here. Those fuckers won't shut up.

He drags the head into a bar, and seems unfazed by the horrified stares the local patrons give him. He hefts the head up onto the counter.

"How much can I get for this?"

c YOU INVITED THIS

[dorzalta]

The trail of blood would be something she'd not spare a second glance under any other circumstance. Blood is so commonplace in her world, to grow wary of it now would be silly.

...But to realize that the blood he dons and the head he lugs like a trophy is a dragon's is enough to have her world erupt in flames. The shift is nothing more than her conversation with Rider promptly ending. Her nostrils flaring, the cup she holds creaks under her grip. She's half tempted to sing the dragon song the BCE supplied. Let him face a dragon's true wrath.

She might've, were he not a supposed ally. Still, her chair clatters to the floor as she abruptly stands, and of all the things she does, reaching for Rider's spear is the last even she expects. What will she do, stab him until the head is replaced? It's stupid is what it is.

A spear pierced Drogon. Stupid men think they can do what they like to dragons without recompense...

Stupid thought it may be, Dany still lifts the weapon, and gods, it's heavy despite the training she's suffered through back at Base. So heavy she abandons it--a loud clatter when she realizes her folly in lifting it to begin with--and storms after Midnighter. Past surprised patrons. Past the trail of blood on the floor.

"Did you enjoy hacking its head off like a savage?"

[chariotry]

He'd been full prepared to ignore the patron's showy entrance in the interest of giving the queen his full and undivided attention. Unfortunately, she didn't have the same idea in mind and was getting up from her seat before he could make any further remark, grabbing for his spear as if it were second nature.

The spear itself is heavy, though it's made up entirely of magic. It's a good thing she chooses to abandon it, because she would have left him no choice but to de-summon the weapon otherwise. Causing a scene here, and endangering her own life as a result, would certainly compromise their current mission.

He's quick to retrieve his spear once it's out of her hands, tossing it up into the air and catching the metal shaft of it in a gloved hand. Though her stride is wide and her steps quick, Achilles is even faster and is at her side despite her head start. He doesn't plan on intervening unless he has to, because he knows better than to get in the way of a woman's wrath, but he will do as he must in order to make sure she didn't get herself hurt. He can't stop the fact that she's drawn attention to herself, now. All he can do is keep the situation from boiling over.

He can't really comprehend why she's so angry.

[thingpuncher]

Midnighter hears the girl coming a mile away, and chooses to ignore her. The computer says she's no real threat, and he trusts it. He drinks something called a 'flagon of ale', which isn't really to his taste, but a hundred times better than anything synthetic and questionable he's had back on BASE. He drinks it happily, and turns back to the girl-- the angry one, she's always angry whenever they meet, and this must be the third time-- a smile is still on his face.

"Yes," he says, not oblivious to the fact that this will clearly set her off, and not really caring. "Best time I've had in weeks."

[dorzalta]

Why is she so angry? That neither understands proves that they are merely allies by necessity. Not her people, not by choice. It might've been flattering that Rider is by her side a moment later, neither complaining of her mistreatment to his weapon, nor making efforts to stop her. It might've, but anger blinds her to very much else, save burning this insufferable man.

Her look grows shuttered. The blues of her eyes are like sheets of ice, colder than the Night King's gaze in her dreams. He would drown in such arrogance, one of these days.

"Romance novels not sufficing. How many times did it kill you in return, I wonder?"

[chariotry]

The other patrons have grown hushed, turning their gazes on the three standing at the bar. Achilles rests a single hand on the girl's shoulder as a way of silently warning her of the attention she draws to herself. If she chooses to continue, then he won't do anything more to stop her. It seems her pride is on the line, here.

He remembers this man from a while back, having met him during the first mission. He wears the same mask and grin as he had when he dared to steal his plunder.

Does she know he's a member of COST? He obviously stands out, unabashed.

"Daenerys. Save your breath. If it's the head you want, I will take it back for you."

[thingpuncher]

Midnighter watches this unfold over his ale, unfazed and faintly amused. "Touch it and lose a finger, undercut."

And to the angry lady, "You're really stuck on those romance novels, huh?"

b

[handsomefoil]

Ah, fire. It's a frightening spectacle but he's been through this before. The time loops make it difficult for him to get out and sometimes it just throws him right back in, which gets annoying after a while. He always instinctively backs away from the plumes of fire roaring up in his face, but they don't hurt, he knows they won't. Maybe this gave the impression that he was trying to run.

He catches the coat though, and lets Midnight grab his hand. The idea to protest doesn't come up right away, sort of caught off-guard by the fact that there was somebody next to him this time.

"Oy—!"

Not really sure where they could go, but then again, he's never tried going very far.

[thingpuncher]

And then the burning stops. Standing there, holding hands with Henry, Midnighter looks down at his singed boots, the fire extinguished. "What the fuck..." He looks up at Henry. "What did you do? One of those spell things?"

[handsomefoil]

Spell things? Oh, right, the song spells.

"Didn't even occur to me to try, honestly," he said, taking the coat in his arm and draping it over the confused man's shoulder. "It was sweet of you to come to my rescue, though."

Gives his hand a squeeze and smarmy sort of grin.

[thingpuncher]

"Oh, so you're just naturally immune to fire," now that the threat of a slow death by immolation has passed, he's just bitching. Midnighter takes his jacket back. "That must make cooking a pain in the fucking ass."

[handsomefoil]

Henry pauses for a second, awkwardly moving his hand now away from Midnighter's grip.

"Eh, no..." he says, drawing the word out a little. "As far as I know, I'm not."

[thingpuncher]

Midnighter continues to squint. "So you're just lucky. The fire likes you and not me. Whatever, I won't take it personal." He keeps walking, still avoiding the flame where he can.

The wall of fire eventually breaks into a verdant clearing, speckled only with the occasional outcropping of rock. The fire dances on the sidelines, but it never breaks the circle, acting as a barrier instead of an inferno.

a.

[excelsus]

Blending in is for chumps, Dorian couldn't agree more, because what could be less practical than running around without appropriate armor on like a fool Qunari? Running around in some kind of loin covering garment made of linen and the pelt of some poor beast, no shoes, and jewelry made from the bones of a dead something or other that didn't even look good much less protect anything important.

Dorian has never felt more like a barbarian in his entire life...well there was that one time...no, no. This still supplants any incident hitherto. He's not sure what possessed the tired woman to send him off so ill dressed, but at least Dorian remembered to bring his staff and slot his blade into the base of it. Granted it only added to the barbarism here, but he's not about to go to any unknown worlds without it.

Generally displeased he might have been with his own getup, he was amply impressed and perhaps a little bit envious of Midnighter's rebellious choice. Not the height of style, but it was attractive on him, and it was bloody well functional--but why is he appraising what they are wearing as opposed to helping? Well, Dorian was not a man to get in the way of another man's fun and it's not often he's able to watch from the sidelines; so he'll find the most comfortable rock to perch on, light a fire (cool is still cold to Dorian), throw up a barrier, and admire the show...because, you know, running up a giant's arm is an impressive thing to watch.

Unless something untoward happens (like some of this giant's buddies showing) he's more than content to watch with his magic is at the ready just in case.

[thingpuncher]

The battle is quick and very gory. Midnighter rips one of the giant's teeth out and stabs it in the ear with it, jumps around so it punches itself in the face, rips out one of its eyes, and generally makes the thing regret it ever came near the 'tiny man in leather'. When he's done, he's filthy with giant's blood, red-brown and sticky. It's not a handsome look, he thinks, but it's very much his natural state.

He sees Dorian a moment later, protected by some kind of orb, fire crackling not far off. Looking utterly, utterly comfortable, and a fond smile breaks out on Midnighter's face for it. Beneath the blood and the leather helm, it looks a little creepy, but that's the fucking point of, well, blood and leather helms.

"Well, look at you, having fun."

[excelsus]

Fortunately Dorian has no problem with violence aimed in the right direction, he's pretty good at it himself, though he's arguably not that creative. It was edge-of-the-seat exciting to watch, honestly, especially the part where Midnighter turned the giant's own tooth against it. The only unfortunate thing was that it ended so quickly, leaving Midnighter covered in giant ichor, not a handsome look, but there's an attractiveness about it that calls out to the primal instincts. It's not really something Dorian can explain so he doesn't bother trying to riddle it over.

He does, however, clap politely as if he's just witnessed something particularly brilliant and to be fair he has. What could be better than watching a giant punch itself in the face. Maker knows Dorian's been accosted by enough giants from his own world to enjoy it in a cathartic sense.

Dropping his barrier he approached Midnighter, one hand reaching out to swipe some of that sticky blood from his bottom lip and chin.

"Oh, well done, ser. I'm having a brilliant time...it's not every day you get to see a giant kick it's own arse," Dorian said miming the punch the giant gave to his own face, "a bit titillating to be honest...but not quite as thrilling as the tooth to the eye. I could watch that all day."

[thingpuncher]

Midnighter is genuinely heartened to hear that, and it shows on what's visible of his face. His body language, too, lightens a bit, shoulders relaxing. His grin is less sharp, more open.

He decides not to dwell on the compliment; that he got one is enough. Instead, Midnighter widens his arms, blood-soaked that he is, letting Dorian take a good look at the uniform.

"So? I'm gonna need your critical opinion of this, too." It's a joke between them, something like comradery... he could get used to that.

[excelsus]

Ah, compliments, if Midnighter is looking for them then the mage can accommodate by showering him with praises so when he opens his stance Dorian looks him over head to toe critically. Well, critically, but with the sense that he's checking him out as well, which he is, of course...if his companion is going to invite his gaze then Dorian will accept the invitation.

"Functional..." Dorian began, circling Midnighter "...love the color..." because black goes with everything "...hugs all the right places..." he higlights his point by brushing Midnighter's abdomen as he circled around in front of him "...I have a thing for high collard coats..." he tugs the collar with his thumb and index finger in an approving manner "...but, darling, the most important thing is this..." Dorian, now standing at Midnighter's left side murmurs close to where his ear would be "...it's pragmatic and not a furry sarong."

A+ for being practical.

[thingpuncher]

Midnighter feels the hair on his neck prickle, which is fine because that's entirely covered by protective armor. No, instead, he plays cocky and confident, an old staple. Grinning, he folds his arms over his chest.

"A furry sarong? I think you've lost all creditably to judge me."

closed to the terrible trio.

[thingpuncher]

He comes to the water to wash the blood off.

That's what you do with cool, clean water, isn't it? Besides, he only has one set of his work clothes, here, and too much blood left for too long will make the leather stick. Midnighter would prefer to get some of the blood off while he can; he'll clean in more depth later, but for now...

He hears... singing? The BCE doesn't even translate it, it's just nonsense words. He looks up to find a bunch of half-naked fish women sitting on rocks and chattering in babytalk. Whatever, that's their problem, not his. He brings some water to his lips, cool and soft in gloved hands, only to find a fleck of gold in it.

The fish women aren't singing anymore. They're staring daggers at him, and one dives in, swimming quickly toward him, her hand surprisingly strong as it grips his ankle.

"Sorry, ladies, not my type," he says as he reaches down to break the woman's wrist. Somehow, this doesn't go over well with her sisters, who begin coursing toward him through the waves, eyes dark with anger.

[fessus]

Noctis's efforts have been focused in Nibelheim for the majority of his time here in Vorspiel, remaining ever distantly aware of the fact that he has yet to run into Midnighter again despite their vague plans to see one another. Hei hadn't taken as long to discover him in the subterranean city due to the help of the BCE, something he's growing increasingly convinced he should use to contact their pugilistic teammate. Checking whereabouts in this convoluted world hasn't proven exceptionally reliable so far.

It's by chance that he and Hei stumble across this scene then -- one he's viewed before, something that should come as no surprise -- while attempting instead to travel just outside the city. Thanks, warped borders.

"--hey!" The second he spots... whoever the hell that is in such an outlandish outfit, surely a COST agent judging by how much they stand out, he's intent on issuing a warning.

"Watch out for them, they don't play around!"

[dipolar]

Hei's comings and goings in Vorspiel have stayed private, but thanks to the eel in his stomach he has one hell of a lot more energy to expend. Despite this, he hasn't been getting up to much, providing back-up for others instead of making any leeway himself. Which is why he runs alongside Noctis now, pausing short of the water's bank to cast a critical look out over it at the man now facing a hoard of upset fish women.

Doesn't bother with a warning, Noctis is taking care of that. His goal is the rheingold they've been tasked to retrieve, whipping a thick cloak away from his shoulders with a flap, ditching it on the shore to act as a collection blanket.

"Just get away from the water." An important suggestion to make that should probably be louder.

[thingpuncher]

"Oh, Hei." Hey, Hei. Midnighter raises his hand to wave, though his grip is still on the fish woman's broken wrist. She's dragged up with him, screaming angry curses in a foreign tongue, clawing at his coat. Her sisters appear on the shore, grabbing at his knees and ankles, trying to pull him in. He stands like a rock, pointedly ignoring them. He'll deal with them in a second.

He wonders if they can recognize him. He should probably talk more, because he's not taking the helm off. "Took you long enough to show up. I had to kill a dragon and get set on fire without you assholes. I'm expecting you to pull your weight, here."

He throws the woman back in the water with a casual air.

[fessus]

Well.

The second he hears that voice he realizes that he has no purpose in issuing further cautions to a supposedly hapless stranger, instead staring openly at the full frontal view of this particular get-up. Let him soak it in.

"Midnighter?" Ah, wait. "This is your superhero outfit? Geeze... It stands out a lot here but..." Damn it, he knew the coat would be cool. And it's hard to even fully admire it when he's trying to avoid unnecessary glimpses of half-naked women, officially setting himself apart as the only one that cares.

"I bet it was that same dragon I had to fight. You're doing okay, though?"

[dipolar]

"M."

Watches the rheinmaiden's wrist bend at an impossible angle and pauses in his determined stride to the water, just out of reach of grabbing hands. Examines the outfit and decides that it's rather practical, a mental nod at the sleeve-blades. Kind of jealous he has sleeve-blades.

"Don't complain so much. Noctis and I were planning a siege." And again, with some concern, "Get away from the water."

Resumes his descent in his mud-encrusted tunic — him, the Black Reaper, forced to look less impressive than his comrade — and splashes into the water with a hard look at the rheingold beneath the surface that glitters like little sparks. The second the women wrap thin arms around his calves to try and drag him under, his balance wins out with a downward cast of red eyes and so does the electricity channeled through their home's medium.

It easily fills the section of river, catching the mermaids with a brain-frying voltage under, above, and halfway out of the water.