GROUP 3: SO I OPEN MY DOOR TO MY ENEMIES—

[dipolar]

WHO? group three, see below links.
WHAT? hrhr: retreat missions.
WHEN? february 9th, you're here forever.
ANYTHING ELSE? planning and submissions.

CHARACTERS WILL ENCOUNTER THESE OBSTACLES:

—Locating the base and arriving without interference by the Turks or the Regency.
—Getting at least one person past the soldiers and into the base.
—Scouting the base and locating Atatürk without causing an incident.
—Handling soldiers who might interfere with attempts to reach Atatürk.
—Combating any Regency soldiers assigned undercover to the Turkish side.
—If anyone is captured by Turkish or Regency soldiers, you'll have to stage a rescue.
—Successfully gaining an audience with Atatürk and acquiring amnesty.
—Returning to Lone Pine in one piece.

RAISING THE DEAD AND SCOUTING, 18/30
yoshitsugu otani, dorian pavus, jon snow, jeyne westerling, sebastian michaelis, ashitaka, hei, noctis lucis caelum, chiron

"Raising the dead and scouting goes well, if not smoothly. You have to dodge enemy combatants the whole way, and it's a little hard to get the intel and supplies you need when you're also trying not to get shot. Somehow, you manage it! Probably through the power of positive thinking. And murder."

—chiron and hei do an initial scout to map out the turkish base and find entry points
—hei stresses that everyone stays with at least one other person so as to not get separated/held hostage
—yoshitsugu uses his spell to raise the dead for an hour to gather information about the turkish base/plans
—yoshitsugu experiences convulsions as a result of using the spell and dorian will use his revival spell on him to help him recover
—entire group stops to plan out specific teams and what they’ll been doing, team a and b are born
—sebastian recounts the letters he found in the tunnels verbatim to the group, mostly sharing the atatürk part
—entire group decides that non-lethal action is to be taken, so they can easily discuss terms with atatürk without killing his men
—noctis and jeyne act as contacts between their separate teams to keep information fresh and to relay important updates
—jon provides the bottom halves of turkish uniforms so their disguises can be put together; they steal the top halves from the dead soldiers yoshitsugu has raised because we're here to demean literally everybody

COMBAT WITH THE REGENCY, 13/30
hei, noctis lucis caelum, chiron, sebastian michaelis, ashitaka

"Combat is where things get difficult. While nobody dies, a few characters are seriously injured. You can decide who and how. Likewise, if you have anybody due for a kidnapping, now would be a good time. But, essentially, this is a close call. You lose ground to the enemy, some ANZAC soldiers might get caught in the crossfire, some precious resources may be lost! Your choice, but something goes to shit."

—chiron using magical detection to weed out the regency agents and the entirety of team b engages the three regency soldiers in combat
—hei uses his ability to shock memory out of the people who may have spotted them using their powers, with the exception of regency soldiers
—noctis will be using warp-strike takedowns to reduce their chances of detection, as they're near-silent and an instantaneous skill
—ashitaka gets kidnapped by the first of the undercover regency agents somewhere in the middle of this because he's literally and figuratively cursed, leaving them down a group member
—sebastian leaves team b and joins team a to fill ashitaka’s empty diplomat position, because he can do anything and likes to show off
—yoshitsugu avoids his kidnapping somewhere in the middle of this, with chiron on rescue duty to facedown the second undercover regency agent
—dorian will use blood magic in a desperate attempt to save himself from capture from the third undercover regency agent

ACTUAL DIPLOMACY, 16/30
yoshitsugu otani, dorian pavus, jon snow, jeyne westerling, sebastian michaelis

"Actual diplomacy is terse, if only because it feels difficult to get a foothold. Atatürk gives little away, and is very quiet and cautious in his delegations. He doesn't fill you with confidence. But in the end, he does come around, admitting to seeing your point. He'll do what he can to call a cease fire."

—team b attempts to come to an agreement and work things out with atatürk
—yoshitsugu attempts to talk atatürk down from a strategical point of view, "there's no sense in attacking when your enemy is already retreating"
—jeyne uses the locket to take the stance of women missing their husbands and lovers, as well as their children having no fathers; she's especially good at calming people when tempers run hot, as well as appealing on more personal levels
—jon speaks with atatürk on a personal level: "no more men have to die - i know you've watched your countrymen fall, i know everyone values bravery, we do too, but these deaths mean less and less when no one is fighting anymore”
—dorian has a gift for politics and has sat in on war counsels and engaged in political debates, making him approach this from a political angle
—if things start going badly, yoshitsugu will use his guilt spell to sway atatürk to their side of the discussion

Comments

RAISING THE DEAD AND SCOUTING, 18/30

[dipolar]

yoshitsugu otani, dorian pavus, jon snow, jeyne westerling, sebastian michaelis, ashitaka, hei, noctis lucis caelum, chiron

Initial scouting with Hei; lmk if anything needs to be changed

[horsepowered]

It made sense to offer to scout the base and find potential points of entry. Save for an enmasse number of Regency soldiers, doing so would be a perfectly simple thing. All that was needed was for Chiron to slip into his spirit form and to move around, happily undetected and covering ground as quickly as possible.

It was an even better way to focus on the restoration of his mana levels. The contract he had made earlier nearly put Chiron back to what he was used to and expected, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would need energy for later. Best to do the light work in spirit mode now.

As far as who he was to work with, Chiron raised no protest and only focused on moving parallel to the other operative in question.

THIS IS PERFECT, BLESS

[dipolar]

Hei can adapt to anything, anyone, and Chiron isn't much of a surprise. He hasn't spoken to him personally since the rooftops of Paris and it seems a bit nostalgic now despite only being a couple of months ago.

Adjusts his rifle, fingers remaining hooked beneath the strap, "Going straight through would make us target practice. Rey and I scouted down the hills in a flank left." Gestures the maneuver with a flat hand, sweeping down the side of a small rocky summit and low across the small section of no man's land.

"Well-populated with soldiers, then, but they've likely thinned out since last month."

then let's get dangerous

[horsepowered]

It is a disadvantage to have to take form to speak, but there is no one around to see the sudden form change. As a result of that factor and only that factor, Chiron is suddenly beside Hei, his only focus being strategy.

"I'd feel more comfortable if we double checked that assumption before making use of it."

Chiron's eyes remained dead ahead, considering.

"It is possible for me to move on ahead to confirm or deny that that summit has thinned out, as well as to see where else it may lead. If it is entrances we seek, it'd be an advantage to locate as many as possible."

[dipolar]

There's a knee-jerk reaction when Chiron appears, tensing bodily if only for a moment. Instincts rule his body and logic rules his mind, so it's quickly remedied with a thought to how useful the ability will be — especially for the purposes the man outlines succinctly.

Hei, appreciating his forward sense, nods once. "Understood. I'll follow to the summit of this hill to get a bit of an overhead view. Signal and I'll play catch up."

He has some reservations about the entrances. The path of least resistance will be hard to find amongst an army of men, but they're struggling with the last legs of this war and they're just getting started. Years versus months— they have a staggering upper-hand, even outnumbered as they are.

"We can compile our initial findings and move forward if there's an opening. Otherwise, we'll have to make one."

Raising the dead; initially open to all relevant folk!

[hakanai]

The time spent chasing an ill-meaning necromancer in that deep, sprawling labyrinth had been an... interesting break from this mission. Dangerous, educational and far away from any kind of disease, it had nonetheless been almost nice to leave the alien stonework behind just so he could take a breath of fresh surface air. When back at base Yoshitsugu is going to have to write a rather long report about his time facing the ghosts that had wrapped their hands around his throat, pulled at his hair and made very 'spirited' efforts to kill him and his bewildered partner, Takatora; now he's back to very human threats, depression and a more visceral danger that make those initial precious lungfuls of cool air in his lungs an almost distant memory.

Covered in mud and hidden away very temporarily from the enemy, Yoshitsugu sits with his back to an uncomfortable wall and hums thoughtfully. The memories have their use here. They've reminded him of something that might make this difficult mission a little easier.

"I can raise a spirit to obtain information from."

It's brought up to his comrades out of nowhere, injected into the conversation with an almost strange kind of calmness. Yoshitsugu doesn't show discontent very easily and there's none visible in his demeanour as he looks between them right now, but he is solemn and serious.

"It will be the nearest dead person to myself, so let's make sure we choose the right body..." He closes his eyes slowly. "As I can only do this once and it will likely make me horribly ill."

[dipolar]

Just jogging back from his and Chiron's scouting, Hei huffs a momentary exhaustion and lags in step when he nears them, catching enough of the conversation to get the gist of what's going on. It's enough, really. Something about raising a dead guy with ludicrous magic and Yoshitsugu becoming a potential liability.

"Hey," leaning over a bit to catch his breath before motioning to the corpses littering the section of land. "It'd be wise — to choose one whose throat is intact. No damage to face or neck."

They need someone who can actually hold a conversation, not gurgle insults at them for an ANZAC grenade leaving him with half a jaw.

"What do you mean by 'horribly ill'? Do you mean for us to leave you behind?"

[northerndragon]

Jon can't fairly argue what he would have when he was a younger man, which is that an attempt to raise the dead with magic is ridiculous and a waste of time that they can't afford. He knows now that such things exist, both inside and outside of COST: he's living proof of it, though what's being proposed now doesn't sound like something that the resurrected man is likely to walk away from. And so far, Yoshitsugu doesn't strike him as being prone to empty boasts.

"How long will we have to question him? And how long do you think your illness will last?" The question is serious, and not without concern for Yoshitsugu himself.

It may be that at least some of them will have to find a way to hide for a while until their comrade in arms recovers.

[hakanai]

"A split throat won't matter... if the spell works as it says," Yoshitsugu says, closing his eyes for a moment. "It will be their spirit alone that is summoned, but the spirit of the nearest and most recently killed living being, specifically. For an hour at most."

Hopefully it should take nowhere near that amount of time; considering the circumstances it would be risky to spend more than ten minutes or so doing this. There's no way to be certain that what they'll learn will be hugely useful, after all.

But quietly, Yoshitsugu feels that it probably will be. The flow has pulled him towards this.

"No specified time on how long it will leave me unable to fight. All it notes is 'liable to send caster into convulsive fits' and nothing else. Nothing I haven't gone through before."

COMBAT WITH THE REGENCY, 13/30

[dipolar]

hei, noctis lucis caelum, chiron, sebastian michaelis, ashitaka

[cutlery]

[ Making their plans were easy enough, but now comes the part that's far more difficult: actually doing it. Technically speaking, it's not unreasonable as far as plans go, but the terrain and the other limitations they're facing make the trek much more troublesome than it might otherwise be. And really, it's only one of those limitations that bothers Sebastian. He can't complain about it, since it's perfectly logical to take a non-lethal approach when you're trying to sway someone to your side, but... It does make this part much more difficult. ]

a. en route
[ But at least so far, so good. With the uniforms they have, they're able to make a stealthier approach. Sometimes they only get passing glances, and that's enough for them to be accepted as belonging there. It's what they need, considering even with the uniforms, they largely stand out among the Turkish soldiers. They're traveling in smaller groups to not draw as much attention, but it's inevitable that it'll come. As they walk by a soldier, he pauses, then looks back at the pair as they pass. ]

Wait, you there—

[ From the suspicion in his tone, it's clear that he recognizes that they don't really belong here. At this point, Sebastian looks to his companion and nods lightly. It goes unspoken, but the intention of the gesture is clear enough:

Shall we? ]

b. ruh roh
[ But once there's one difficulty, the others become much more frequent. It seems like a small group of the soldiers are aware that there might be people here that don't belong, though how they've figured that out isn't clear just yet. There's a murmur of concerned voices around a bend in the trench, and Sebastian stops with a look of concern. ]

Ah... It seems they may know.

[ He speaks quietly, almost enough so that it could be missed. It's clear from how he had recounted the letter that he can understand Turkish, though now that might seem like a more valuable asset. The voices draw closer, and Sebastian looks to his current partner with a more serious expression. His tone stays hushed, but still serious. ]

This may be more difficult.

[ ooc ; just in case you're trying to decide which one to pick, prompt a is more stealth-oriented and one-on-one confrontations, and prompt b is a group and much more likely for sebastian to demonstrate his superhuman abilities if that's your jam. also if you prefer prose, I'm happy to match! ]

closed to hei + noctis

[cutlery]

[ Once Chiron has pointed out those Regency soldiers, the pace of the fight drastically changes. It's one thing to be careful because there's an advantage to doing so, but it's another entirely when faced with the real enemy that they're supposed to be fighting. It's clear that these are people not to be trifled with, and that's what makes the prospect of chasing one of them down immediately exciting to Sebastian. This, as far as he's concerned, is what he's well-suited to do. Since they've all come together, he nods to Hei and Noctis, since (presumably) he's seen both of them holding their own by now. ]

Well, we should take care of them first, yes? We can clear the way for those of us proceeding on to Atatürk.

[ He nods in the direction of one of the soldiers that had been indicated. They have at least a little ground in between, but not for long. That closest soldier seems to be heading their way, but Sebastian doesn't seem too alarmed about that fact. He's confident, since what could really hurt a demon? Even if they're using a miasma to dull those powers, it's not nearly as marked as in their own trenches.

And that's exactly why he's going to get wrecked for being arrogant tbh ]

[fessus]

[ Back in the tunnels Noctis had felt like he was running on fumes and what a difference it is now, fueled by the same disgusting food and plagued with the same lack of sleep but now there's the powerful addition of combat adrenaline. The muscle memory associated with fighting with an end goal in mind offers him renewed energy.

Even still, hearing that? Well, Noctis is overly confident in his own skills possibly to a fault but he's also critically aware of not only their most recent briefing, but also of his limitations and the magic dampening they'd encountered before. ]

No other way out of this but to fight? Fine with me if we have to, just wanna' exhaust the other options first...

B is for Butler!

[horsepowered]

[Chiron had been quite fine with the suggestion of splitting off with Sebastian for a time. The man was intriguing to say the least, and he had demonstrated to Chiron to have a cool head. That was as good a reason as any to begin this phase of the assignment with him.

When he stops, Chiron does as well. There's no look of particular concern on his face. It is, in fact, unreadable.]

What do you advise then?

[cutlery]

Well, we are further away from that mist, so...

[ At least at this point between conversations with Hei and seeing what others can do, he's not quite as reluctant to show what he can do. The fact that he has to keep his existence hidden is rather deeply ingrained, so while he's not completely forthcoming, at least he can see that revealing what he is in parts may not be as much of an issue. ]

I can move in quickly to knock them out, but... It may need to be accompanied with a brief distraction. It is better if they do not have the time to process it, so to speak.

CLOSED— DORIAN AND HEI'S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY

[dipolar]

Hei's been hovering by their Team A's entrance into the Turk base for a while now with the other combatants who've spread further out into the trenches to nip the approaching forces in the bud. Loathe as he is to uproot, he hears a struggle from the far exit, a familiar voice that spoke tranquility into him when he was experiencing a crisis of self— Dorian, engaging the enemy? His first thought is that the man's more than capable of taking care of the target himself.

Curiosity, however, killed the cat. His area is clear and he leaves it unoccupied in a low sprint down the line of a trench with a very grim setting of his jaw. The closer he gets to checking on the situation, the more dire it sounds. Not good, considering the known amount of Regency soldiers left to the Turkish team is a number they don't know and one peek over the edge of the mud-and-rock wall of the veritable gutter of bodies Hei stands in is enough to confirm it: Dorian needs assistance.

The Regency's struck.

He's up and over the wall in less than a second, whipping the barrel of his rifle up with three shots aimed at the soldier's chest — missing, of course, but he wasn't intending to hit so much as distract with a dark look down the sight, slapping the lever to reload it, firing another three shots with a steady walk forward.

"Hey—" a jam in his gun, no bullets left in the damn thing, hastily unscrewing the bayonet from the end with deft fingers, "you alright?"

[excelsus]

He bloody well wasn't alright. Dorian only wished he could communicate as much, but there were a few things happening simultaneously inhibiting his ability to engage his gift for gab perk. The first of which had to do with these Regency soldiers and their ability to reinforce reality as to make it somewhat less mutable and therefore leaving the mage's magic grasping in the air for some purchase. He thought that was something only Templars could ever achieve...and perhaps it wasn't the same, but it felt the same. He realized he couldn't tap into his magic when he attempted to melt the face off of one of his assailants and it did not go according to plan.

Then there was whatever they had daubed the darts with. A drug...a poison? He didn't know which, but he knew it made him feel helpless, it made him feel detached from his own body and his own feelings, unfit to do anything other than permit. It wasn't a pleasant feeling--it vaguely reminded him of repulsive things that mages were subjected to in his world and the dreadful anticipation preceding the loss of control. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't help anyone unless...

...and there it was, temptation. All too present like a buzz in the back of the skull easily ignored until becoming a fully fledged concept to flirt with. He could have ignored it if the serum from the darts would stop humming words of mutiny through every vein and artery pathway in his body, singing to him like the Calling. He might have been able to ignore it if he didn't hear a familiar voice vibrating through dampening walls he felt surrounded by--distant, low, distorted, but familiar all the same. That familiarity meant he couldn't just lay idle, let himself be taken just because it would be better than the tempation to do anything he had to do for the sake of self-preservation. If he was alone it would have been easier, but he wasn't and intuition more than anything else told him that he wasn't the only one in danger.

Dorian had enough wherewithal to lever himself out of the dirt, threads of blood and viscious gunge threatening to tie him to the earth if he couldn't force his body obey his commands. A series of complex order that involved moving, grabbing, and cutting. Dorian never went anywhere without his mage's staff, but he couldn't bring it with him on this particular mission, not that it stopped him from sneaking his staff blade along for the ride. Reliable, familiar, accessible, and when his fingers finally fumbled their way around the hilt he ripped the blade from it's moorings without really considering his actions. There were no words of reassurance or warning, only a significant look that he threw Hei's way that indicated somthing unpredictable on the horizon.

What was he saying?
Help?
Run?
Stop me?

Before he could assign a meaning to the expression, Dorian was cutting into himself--it should have hurt, he should have been screaming from the pain. Maybe he'll scream later, but the pain is as far away from him in the moment as Hei's voice, and the only thing that mattered was trying to save the both of them. The only way he could do that was if he could access magic and while the Regency soldiers might be able to mute his abilities they couldn't control his blood. He carved into his chest and down the inside of an arm, it might have looked like a moment of madness, but blood magic was madness and weakness anyway. Give it a moment and the method becomes clear, the Regency soldiers suddenly appear to be afflicted with pain that had no visible source save for the world around them taking on a sepia haze with a blood and mud mixture. It would be a reprieve if not for the fact that the kind of magic Dorian was using came with the price of his own life.

Blood leaves the body at a gallop first and the it hobbles. His body knew when the blood loss had him hobbling, when the black started creeping in from the edges of his vision. His magic knew how to respond to that even if his brain did not--take from the nearest source. Hei was the nearest source, the sacrifice for his continued use of this magic, this weak and horrifying magic.

A trained blood mage would take from their enemy, but Dorian was only academically familiar with blood magic and therefore couldn't wield it to distinguish friend from foe it simply acted without his hand guiding it and suddenly he was pulling the blood he needed from Hei to feed his own life-force. In addition to this there was the coctail in his system and the violent struggle that had also left him incapable of full control over a magic he understood only in theory. He was able to terrify the Regency soldiers with the invisible attacks, the manipulations of their bodies, the boiling of their blood, and while a novice in the use of blood magic he had just enough self-preservation and drive to will his own survival and send them tearing off in another direction. This shit wasn't worth it.

What he didn't have control over was the damage he was doing to Hei to supplement himself, pulling from any wound available, tearing them open, widening them so that he could continue to take and take as much fuel as he needed. He couldn't control this and he couldn't control the danger just around the corner. The price of blood magic.

THIS IS SO LATE

[dipolar]

'Drastic' is the word he'd use to describe Dorian's expression and it's far too late for him to do anything about it.

He should be concerning himself with the Regency agent who's doubling back to get away from whatever trick the mage is pulling, but the sight of him dragging a blade from chest to wrist is enough to distract both of them. Self-harm is never something Hei's cringed at; he's used knives against himself as a means to an end to escape enemy clutches before. He knows it'll do the trick, if their conversation about how taboo the art is was any indication of its power. That's the only shred of faith he's willing to spare.

And it works, for a time. The agents bow and writhe and Hei's grip tightens around his dagger, springing into action — all the while keeping an eye on a flagging Dorian whose energy wanes with the exertion. Hei makes a quick and dirty fighter, merciless as he takes point against one of the Regency agents who's staggered, kicking up mud at a jackal mask with his foot before cutting the blinded enemy down at the stomach. It risks his own exposure to the second who aims their blaster at his side and he feels the burning bite of plasma strike him below the ribs, singing a hole in his uniform. Bad, he realizes, when the almost gooey energy splashed him scrapes at layers of skin and muscle until he's certain stained bone is peeking out of his jacket.

There's no time for the shout that should come and Dorian knows this as well, the two of them silent through their tribulations. He thought he could keep it up, fight through in their dangerous states, but — he's dreadfully unlucky. Things rarely ever stay good, souring quickly. 'How can it get any worse?' a popular phrase that sums up the majority of the sad years he's spent clinging to this wretched life.

The sudden wrenching of old injuries barely healed by time. Hei can hardly recognize why his own body reacts as violently as it does when he knows he can withstand pain on a scale no human could cope with, but, when his eyes dart to Dorian, it's the warning look that sends a thrill up his spine and promises him that he's wrong — because it can always get worse. There's no lag in his step when it dawns on him, immediately wrenching a tired body away from the Regency to rush at his comrade as the agony spikes and his vitals go haywire.

He activates his ability and slaps a hand over his wounds with a sudden jolt of electricity, trying to cauterize the bullet wounds that rip open and bleed at Dorian's word. "Dorian!"

Hei knows why he's doing what he's doing, forcing a comrade into becoming his weapon against too-strong opponents who have the upper hand, but it puts their lives at risk. He'll need someone close who can fend off the fools who get too close while acting as the blood bag necessary to hold their ground and finish the mission — it's worrisome that they've targeted him. Ashitaka was first, Dorian is another, and he's lost track of Noctis which makes his discomfort grow all the more unbearable, but the only way to find him and check on him is to finish this. Kill these bastards who've been brainwashed into obsessing over the True Peace to a degree that makes them mindless murderers just the same as their enemies.

"T-Take them out," a strained order, yanking impatiently at the collar of his own uniform to make the drawing of blood from his shoulder and bicep that much easier — helped along further with a press and wiggle of his own dagger into a pockmark scar from an age ago.

CLOSED— https://i.imgur.com/XbCz5VG.gif

[dipolar]

(he didn't abandon his team, an odd realization for hei as he lies back in the mud and wishes the BCE would just let him die like he's damn well supposed to. he's familiar with how close of a call this is, he can feel the device sustaining him at a bare minimum. it patches him up with the help of some backed up version of his body, awake, and alive. and god, it's painful.

watery eyes sting as he tries to access the network to contact someone for extraction, but his vision's too blurry to see the letters and whatever he manages to send to the last person he was in contact with is absolute gibberish. tries to speak to himself, call out to someone, only managing a pathetic rasp of something unintelligible and dizzied, a thick swallow of blood at the back of a dry throat.

when did he get out here? a turn of his head, cheek presses into soft ground, almost warm to a cold face. he's never felt so sick in his life, fingers still clawing at the cauterized hole in his uniform along plasma-blasted ribs that make his breaths in rattle wetly. experiencing acute blood loss is a day to day, but nothing beyond a level that would kill him without the BCE's suspension. in return for his eventual survival, however, thoughts are diced up as finely as the regency soldier dropped next to him. time's immaterial and impossible to gauge when he can't tell which direction his eyes are dragging in in an attempt to gather his bearings.

fuck, it's a lot. it's too much. he doesn't know if his friends are alright and no one warned them of the consequences of venturing out by themselves. that's on him, that's his fault, the fault of his superiors for refusing to warn anyone or help anyone somehow — surely they could've.

where's noctis? where's m? are they strong enough to face agents him and dorian barely managed to topple? are they safe right now? he can't even check their vitals, eyes squeezing shut in his frustration as a desperate protest is choked out of him.)

[fessus]

[ They haven't been separated for long but it feels like an eternity.

When they'd started traversing the No Man's Land to keep the way clear for the rest of their team Noctis had kept Hei within his sights. It'd been easy; they work well together and soldiers had fallen both quickly and quietly in response to their joint efforts. Communication had been smooth even if it hadn't necessarily been easy and contacts both on the combat side and with their other factor had stayed solid.

The first Regency soldier contact is what fractures their system. They were separated then with Noctis taking point to defend the diplomacy team's advance inside the base while Hei had been left to face the greater threat alone. And it had weighed on him while he was fighting, unable to afford distracted glances back to where he knows Hei is standing on his own even if the worry that blossoms in his chest is overwhelming.

It feels like far too long before he's able to seek Hei out, picking out his slumped figure in a barren landscape and feeling that dread jump into his throat with a vicious spike. His knees sink into mud as he drops down at his side, hands filthy with dirt and blood grasping for him with the fingers of one curling around the back of his neck, attempting to support him with a half-tug into his lap. ]

Fuck... Hei? Hei, I'm here, look at me--

[dipolar]

(more time passes and with his eyes closed, it feels like he's sinking into the mud. no one's coming for him, if he does. he's going to be forgotten here, location off on his BCE. why did he insist on keeping it private? it was so illogical and he'd kick himself but he can't move his legs more than a few inches, knees bending weakly, quaking hard with effort, before his heels slide and he's horizontal again.

so when noctis' voice reaches him with a lance of pain from being jostled — one that immediately winds him and flecks the backs of his eyelids with a blotted gold —, hei believes he's hallucinating. just for a moment, it's like hearing and feeling something fake, just one of the myriad delusions keeping him well past the threshold of insanity. the confusion from his blood loss helps the idea along, but hei obeys him and tries to open dark eyes with a woozy lag of a stare.

noctis. he's real, he's real, noctis is holding a soaked body steady and bloody lips part with a wavering sigh, relief making his throat tight.)

Noctis, Noctis— (thank god he's alright, thank god, but that means the danger's still there. fuck, dorian almost got stolen away out from under their noses and there's no more strength left in this group to fend off a worse attack,) can't be here, you need to go...

ACTUAL DIPLOMACY, 16/30

[dipolar]

yoshitsugu otani, dorian pavus, jon snow, jeyne westerling, sebastian michaelis

[northerndragon]

To get to Ataturk, to have even a chance of a conversation that could stop the killing and get the remaining ANZAC soldiers out, the team bleeds.

There have been wounds so severe that it seemed like no one could survive them, yet they had. Ashitaka has vanished outright, and an attempt to establish his whereabouts via a BCE message failed in the same way that similar attempts to find others who have vanished have failed. That gives hope for the vanished in a general sense, but not a specific one, in that there's no hint of where they might now be. It's a subject that has to be set aside for later.

There have been less serious injuries, too, and definite hints of Regency interference, making a mission that had seemed hairy to begin with now seem like it stands on the edge of a knife. Even if they all managed to get past the Regency agents, there were still the ordinary -- and quite brave -- Turkish soldiers to deal with. Now, past that hurdle, there's the objective itself. The parts that nearly killed the lot of them were not the end, but the means, and the obstacles COST must overcome before even having a chance of reaching their eventual goal.

It's hard to say whether having five people trying to convince the Turkish general will be too many, or not enough, but they have to try.

Jon's mood, as he waits, is tense... not as miserable as it had been a little while earlier, though. His concern for Daenerys is a tight knot in his belly, but in an odd way, it's been slightly eased by the fact that Ashitaka has also vanished. The manner of it convinces him that it may be that they still live, and can still be found.

That, or they'll be a chain of bait for everyone who remains. He pushes that thought away as much as he can to focus on the task at hand.

"Is everyone ready? Think of anything you can that might help, but try not to insult them." Maybe that last bit isn't advice that any of them need, but it's still something he's seen go wrong in this sort of negotiation in the past.

[goodandtrue]

Jeyne clutched the locket tightly in her pocket, a small treasure but one that could make a difference, if men's hearts could be touched by the pleas of a woman. But these thoughts were small compared to the greater issue of those injured among their party and the possibility of opposition when they finally met with the Turkish general. It was an ominous sign for them, an ill omen for their mission that so many had been hurt and that even one had disappeared. It rattled her confidence enough that she fell into step behind Jon, preferring to let him lead the way.

She felt small compared to the rest, disappearing against the backdrop of the Turkish camp. Though her presence as a woman was likely hard to ignore, a rare sight among an army full of men. She wanted to reach for her goodbrother, to find that connection and reassurance in touch, but that was the response of a child, the same that had lead her to chase after Robb as he left for the Twins. She wasn't that girl anymore, she was here as a negotiator, something she didn't feel prepared for but forced herself to face with some show of confidence.

Her hand tightened once more around the locket before she made herself release it, folding her hands in front of her. Jon was focused on the task ahead, remarkable considering Daenerys' disappearance. It was reassuring to see him this way, a king among soldiers, strong and stoic. "You should speak first. I don't know if they will listen to a woman to begin with."

[hakanai]

Yoshitsugu himself is one of those that bled. His clothing is stained with dirt and blood both, his face dirty and his aura grim; the journey had been as rough on the samurai as everyone else with a kidnap attempt on himself that had failed, thankfully, though not without doing its work on his already weary body. Earlier during the initial scouting phase of the mission he'd summoned a spirit to help with getting intel, and while this had helped, the convulsions had not.

He'd expected them, of course, and did not regret his choice because Yoshitsugu simply didn't do regret (at least outwardly). But combined with their later difficulties it made it a little harder for him to think, which was what he needed to do as best he could right now.

A time to be grateful for allies, then. Their presence still kept the flow on COST's side in this, though it was still going to be a difficult task. What would Mitsunari and his friends have said? That they owed this to those who had been along the way to make it go well? To get the mission done and get back do they can focus on rescuing their companions?

The thought kept Yoshitsugu's eyes bright and his voice calm, even if the rest of him made a sorry sight.

"The only strategy we have is to avoid foolishness and work to our own strengths." He glanced at Jeyne. "We all have different ones. But yes, I am ready. Feel free to use my own pathetic appearance to our advantage."