dpscheck | stuck meme

stuck meme

esuna off that paralysis

Post toplevels, reply as usual. Hope you enjoy your quality time with your thread partner, now that you're stuck...

01. IN A CROWD — for bonus points: in a crowd, after an argument.
02. DEFENDING THE BASE — while you wait for reinforcements to arrive. Good luck!
03. ON A RAFT — or a manacutter or an airship or something, drifting towards a deserted island.
04. IN A RELATIONSHIP — that your thread partner is trying to break you out of. The relationship can be with someone else... or just your bed/pet/hobby/gambling habit.
05. IN A WAITING ROOM — while you're waiting to hear a healer/conjurer/physician/chirurgeon's assessment, and you really didn't want to run into anyone... or maybe you'd like some emotional support?
06. TRYING TO NAVIGATE — through the Ul'dahn marketplace, maybe, or Hawker's Alley, or any number of confusing Lominsan/Gridanian/Sharlayan alleyways.
07. STANDING GUARD — wherever might be applicable: outside the Rising Stones? Rowena's House of Splendors? Or maybe awkwardly in front of a bedroom with a near-stranger so that the person who hired you to keep watch can get it on inside...
08. WITH YOUR HAIR — caught in someone else's belt or leather sheath or inexplicable shoulder spike... oh, adventurers and their impractical clothing.
09. DELIVERING TERRIBLE NEWS — exactly what's on the tin. Sucks to be you.
10. DOING THE DISHES — at a restaurant where you forgot your wallet and couldn't pay the bill.
11. IN A LAKE — because this person caught you skinny-dipping and won't... go... away...
12. WAITING TO BE RANSOMED — in the actually-quite-loving care of some especially incompetent criminals.

Enjoy being stuck! This meme was gently lifted off bakerstreet.

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valoirs

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[She folds her arms against the cold and her savior's scrutiny - she has no quarrel with people who don't mean her harm on an individual level, and it's hard to fault someone who has just saved her life. But she is aware of how Au Ra fared in these parts in the past, and the apprehension in his expression is reminder enough that he may just decide she probably belonged down there anyway.

Still, he doesn't appear to mean her any harm, so she shows no sign of aggression, herself - her folded arms keep them well away from the daggers at her waist, and her posture won't lend itself to a kick, stance not wide enough for fighting.

When he finally asks a question, she smiles in relief, followed immediately by embarrassment.]

I, um. [She nudges the snow beneath her with her toe.] I was doing some work in the area for the Adventurer's Guild, some friends invited me to join them on their tasks, as well, and in going to do so, I... I slipped. I'm not familiar with Coerthas yet.

[She glances at the gaping hole in the ground beside her sheepishly. She should have been able to right herself! How does a ninja bungle a feat of dexterity like that? Oh well, no use in thinking about it too much. Sitting and lingering on thoughts isn't like her. She looks back up at Emmanellain earnestly.]

But I'm unharmed, thanks to you!

[ History and heretics and all such topics are forgotten when she thanks him — praise is rarely bestowed upon Emmanellain. It may be simple, no ode to his valorous deeds, but it is sincere, and his entire being lights up with pride. He really did save her life, didn't he? He saved an adventurer's life. ]

It seems fortune has smiled upon you this day, old girl! It just so happens that I, Emmanellain de Fortemps, am very familiar with Coerthas.

[ After a glance of his own into the depths of Witchdrop, he motions for the young woman to join him in putting the gorge far, far behind them. ]

Why don't we take a look at your map back at the garrison? There it is, scant yalms away — Camp Dragonhead.

[ As Emmanellain speaks, he pays no attention to his surroundings. Behind them, an ogre draws near, straying from the rocky slopes of Providence Point. ]

[She can't help but beam brightly at the sight of his obvious pride. It's kind of endearing, really. In part - or for the most part, rather - because she knows what it's like. She's saved lives in her line of work and it really does feel that incredible.]

Of course! I'd be glad to get out of this cold for a while, too.

[She scoops her doll out of the snow and stuffs it into her adventurer's bag, then hurries to catch up to him. Of course, then has to slow to not outpace him. She's light on her feet, and still not entirely used to traveling on snow (if her near-fatal tumble wasn't an obvious enough clue).]

My name is Sayano, by the way. It's a- hm?

[The large voidsent approaching doesn't escape her notice - it got closer than it should have with her amount of experience with adventuring in general, but her large horns aren't for show. Their shape sees to catching plenty of sound to hear a third set of footsteps on the snow, too large to be another person.

Sayano whirls to face it. Whether it's only a redhorn or something tougher, she didn't get a good look at any weapons - if there are any - Emmanellain may have on him. She draws a throwing dagger from her belt. She may need to draw its attention if it's got its eyes on him. Why couldn't it have come for its next meal when she was more sure of her company?]

Ogre! Stay behind me if you can't fight it!

A pleasure, Mistress Saya—

[ Ogre? They could make a run for it. The garrison gates are close by, promising safety behind its walls and House Fortemps' swords and shields. There they could sit out of the cold and away from the dangers lurking in the wilds, familiarizing Sayano with Coerthas in peace, with the help of a good map, and over a warm drink.

But Sayano is poised to attack — as if the ogre is already nearly upon them. Emmanellain stands frozen, afraid to look, to move at all, even to duck behind the Au Ra, who hardly cuts an imposing figure. ]

Wh-Where...?

[ On cue, the voidsent utters a deafening bellow. Emmanellain jumps, throwing his arms over his head, but something compels him to turn around and see for himself how close the creature, likely not here for a stroll through the snow, is to feasting upon fresh Elezen. The ogre is some paces away yet, and Emmanellain would marvel at Sayano's keen hearing, were the urge to flee not so overwhelming.

Another look at Sayano's stance reassures him. He has a veteran adventurer at his side, together they could make short work of dispatching any threat! The prospect of a grand tale beckons, and brimming with a sudden eagerness to prove his mettle, Emmanellain draws his sword, brandishing it wildly at the ogre. ]

Taste my blade, fiend! Begone!

[ The ogre does not turn tail, cowed into retreating. If anything, it seems angered. ]

((Did you have any preference on whether it's just a common redhorn (which she wouldn't have a problem killing without much worse than minor injuries) or one of the big fate baddies (which can totally wreck her if she isn't careful)? Or did you have a specific outcome in mind? I'll play to pretty much anything.))

[Sayano flicks another uncertain glance her new companion's way. How experienced is he? Is there a shield to go with that sword? How sturdy does his armor look? It's so much easier with other adventurers, the guild training gives them all a standard to perform to, so even groups thrown together by circumstance fight with at least a modicum of organization. Someone trained for larger-scale combat or, going the other direction, solely for personal defense, wouldn't be able to read her actions and react the way a guildmate might, falling into whatever pattern would complement her or vice-versa.

And if something happens to him because she decided on fighting over running... She's lost too many adventuring friends that way.

If he'd rather keep its focus, he surely has a means to do so, she thinks. Course of action decided, she charges its way at full speed, throwing the dagger she holds at it and beginning to run in a wide arc, to draw its attention to the side and away from Emmanellain. That is, if it's decided she's the greater threat. If not, well - short blades were best planted in the target's back, after all.

In the precious few seconds they have before they're well and truly engaged in this battle, she might as well give some advice. His initial reaction was not a promising one.]

Ogres have the advantage of reach, watch its arms if it comes after you!

((Emmanellain is just surprised that he didn't hear anything himself, and a common redhorn is probably best, since he's unfortunately more or less dead weight, lol...))

Its... arms?

[ If it comes after him? Why should it come after him? ]

I daresay we have it outnumbered, old girl, and well outmatched! Why, it's all but slain!

[ In his excitement, and preoccupied with his confident claims, Emmanellain forgets the shield he carries, and he does little more than wave his sword about in front of him for show. The ogre remains unimpressed. If nothing else, Emmanellain's display holds its attention long enough for Sayano's dagger to strike its mark, and then the voidsent growls its displeasure, swinging its fists to the side, then downward, onto the ground with such force that cracks might form beneath the snow. It lumbers a step forward, another step to turn. ]

[That he has to think that is why she's trying to make it come after her. Of course, when she's distracted by the very same display, utterly baffled when she notices the shield he isn't using, that doesn't help her much. She runs right into the shockwave from the ogre's threatening display, which she ought to have seen coming, and loses her balance, teetering wildly as she tries to stay on her feet and still run, an arm outstretched with dagger drawn in a frantic attempt to counterbalance her weight. She fails, and it's only after skidding to her knees in the snow that she's able to right herself and charge back in. Certainly, it's not her most graceful moment in combat.

She leaps at it as she draws the second dagger, trying to drive her weapons deep as she can, put the viper venom coating their blades under its skin. It's not particularly potent as a toxin, so far as snake venom goes, but the distracting pain it causes...there's a reason it's often used alongside wasp venom in both the trades of the Eorzean rogues and the Doman ninja.]

Down here, you ugly brute!

[It's not a normal opening move, and part of her reflexively rebels against it. Ninja are meant to slip behind the enemy, inflict as much pain and harm as they can and then either melt back into the shadows or coordinate with an ally to divide its attention. Not call attention to themselves the way she's doing now.]

[ The ugly brute, whether it understands Sayano and takes offense, believing itself to be the fairest ogre in the land, or simply vents its rage upon its nearest target, lets out another roar, thrashing against the venom-coated blade buried in its flesh. Again it lashes out, seeking to free itself, to hurl aside the cause of its pain. Sayano has its full attention.

Emmanellain, for his part, provides moral support that may only serve to distract. He gasps when Sayano stumbles, calls out her name, shouts words of encouragement. He cheers.

At last, with the ogre's back turned, he appears to remember the sword in his hand, and he charges in from behind — to hack at the voidsent's flank. The blade slices into its hide, deeper, finds some resistance, and comes free again with a sickening squelch.

Emmanellain recoils. His gaze drops to his sword. ]

[She's more or less on her own for this fight, she sees, pulling the blades free before she can be thrown and dancing away from a swinging arm. The idea was to strike again, but then it does, too, and its fist catches her in the side, sending her tumbling into the snow again.

Of course, as she rises to her feet, aching, she sees Emmanellain charging the thing now, watches what looks very much like it could be that sword's first field use, and finds herself hoping he hasn't just made himself the kind of threat a blade like that tends to make itself seem to beasts like the ogre. It would be ideal if he seemed any less inexperienced, but with a reaction like that... She hopes he at least manages to avoid being pummeled for a second or three.

Deftly spinning her daggers away as needed for her fingers to form the signs, she makes three quick gestures, a channeling of aether much like (but not entirely like) a mage, and activates it with a final fourth, a faint blue shimmer of energy coursing along her arms and legs.

She rejoins the fray with a battle cry in a veritable tornado of blades, her reflexes enhanced by the ninjutsu technique. Her daggers fly in frenzied slashes, spinning and leaping attacks to keep her body a moving target.

At the moment, she says nothing about Emmanellain's reaction, entirely focused on the battle and protecting her ally. There's a place for talk and it's when the threats have all died or fled.]

[ Emmanellain is somewhere between the rush of having landed a blow, nausea, and fainting. But he is a man of Ishgard, a son of House Fortemps! His blade has tasted blood, dealt the ogre what must be a mortal wound to turn the tide. Anything but standing his ground is out of the question.

Emmanellain's distraction leaves him open to the ogre's retaliatory swing, and though its movements are slowing, erratic, disrupted when it writhes convulsively, he is knocked off his feet, into a snowdrift. His sword slips from his hands. He lies there, winded.

Sluggishly, the ogre once more targets the most immediate threat exacerbating its agony, but Sayano's swift bladework secures her the upper hand. The voidsent, bleeding profusely, soon slumps to the ground. There it twitches, in its death throes.

Emmanellain, who has picked himself back up, wincing, watches it transfixed. ]

[She's so focused on her attack - much like being too focused on her destination ahead with Witchdrop - that she doesn't take into account just how injured it is. The final blow the ogre manages against her happens to be falling on top of her as it collapses from its wounds, pinning her beneath its massive body.

She manages to work herself halfway free before the dying ogre manages to roll just right to pin the rest of her into the tiny depression she'd made in the snow as she struggled. She lets out a yelp as it wrenches her ankle under its stomach, half twisting on reflex to stab it in the shoulder, the only place she could reach.]

Oh, that's not going to do anything.

[With a swift Ten just shy of being uselessly unrecognizable, she sends a summoned shuriken to tear through its body, putting it out of its misery. Honestly, at this point she'd have tried tossing the resulting equally useless rabbit from a failed sign at it just to see if it did anything.]

She turns back to Emmanellain, looking up at him from her spot half-pinned under their vanquished foe. She isn't sure she can get out without doing worse to her ankle. Why did ogres have to be so heavy?]

Um... Emmanellain, I know this looks absolutely disgusting, but I need your help. Again.

[ The ogre breathes its last in a terrible spot. Alarm spreads across Emmanellain's features, makes way for relief upon seeing that Sayano isn't completely crushed, and returns. ]

My... my help?

[ What sort of help does she expect? He throws a glance over his shoulder toward Camp Dragonhead, but the yalms to cross there and back to fetch the first available guard for assistance could prove precious time lost. Sayano sounds in some measure of pain, her voice strained — it occurs to him that she might be injured, or struggling for air, trapped beneath that huge carcass. ]

Of course...! Of course... Worry not, Sayano, help is on its way!

[ With a deep breath, Emmanellain approaches the dead ogre. The snow is dyed dark. His stomach lurches as the stench of blood and gore assaults his nose, but he crouches to give the ogre's motionless mass a push with all his might, and with a great deal of grunting and panting. ]

[Thankfully, more experienced adventurers are startlingly sturdy thanks to all their training and field experiences. Things like how to fall correctly, how to ease strain on trapped body parts, and general endurance tend to come with enough time on the job and learning from the veterans.

His efforts lift it just enough for her to scramble out (only when she's free does she remember her ninja training could have allowed her to escape on her own - it's hardly her fault she rarely finds use for the skill in question). She does so and sits in the snow a bit to catch her breath, take stock of her injury. Keeping calm through injury is another handy adventurer skill, but usually it tends to come with the promise of a quick reprieve from a conjurer. That, this time will have to wait.

Her foot is, at least, facing the right direction, but she can feel her ankle swelling inside her armored boot, a distinct tightness standing out from the general pain of having such a heavy weight land on her. She reaches into her bag, pulling out a small clear bottle filled with a green potion and downs it in one gulp. The pain eases first, but she can't tell how well it's helped the swelling, only that it has at least somewhat eased. Nothing to do but see if she can walk on it - Twelve bless the alchemists who made it a possibility she could. She looks up at Emmanellain with a bright smile, and makes the best approximation of a grateful bow while seated. It would probably be cute if she wasn't covered in ogre blood.]

Thank you again! That didn't go too badly, save that part at the end. Had you ever fought one before?

Edited (that was horrendously paced. hopefully better now) 2017-06-02 01:11 (UTC)

[ As soon as Sayano is freed, the ogre's corpse flops back down into the snow, spurting what might be its innards from the gash that Emmanellain's blade hewed into its side. Emmanellain sinks to his knees. His hands slip from the beast's slick hide; they leave filthy imprints in the snow as he turns himself over to sit and catch his breath with Sayano. His haubergeon and gauntlets are no better off than Sayano's garments. ]

What did I tell you? [ He laughs breathlessly, shakily. ] Out... outmatched...

[ Sayano's question goes unanswered. Abruptly, Emmanellain unintentionally imitates the ogre, sagging sideways until he topples all the way onto the ground. He doesn't feel the impact, and he makes no sound.

In the distance, a young boy's voice calls the same thing again and again: "Lord Emmanellain!" Before long, the shouts and accompanying footfalls are louder, their owner in view — an auburn-haired Elezen youth, wearing tidy Ishgardian garb and a frantic look, a knight close behind. ]

[...And he's fainted. The ache, she can work through. The tiredness in her limbs as her muscles lose the bolstering effect of her ninjutsu and protest being artificially brought to their limit after the fact, she can work through. Nothing will make her capable of physically lifting a fainted Elezen without attempting to fit him into the opening of her bigger-on-the-inside adventurer's bag. She doesn't know if there's air in there to breathe and doesn't want to find out the hard way there's not.

But her options are either attempt to carry him or wait for him to wake, and she's seen the aggressive scavengers that linger near and in Witchdrop. It won't be long before they'll find their way up here to the ogre corpse, and find something more lively with it.

She crawls forward, flinching as she finds her twisted ankle still tender, and lifts his head and shoulders out of the snow. She's about to try to sling his arm over her shoulders when she hears the shouts. Relief brings her a second wind and she kneels up, holding him up under his shoulders, waving to the approaching pair as she tries to find her feet without dropping him. She manages some kind of half-stoop that her shoulders will absolutely loathe her for later. Raw might is not where her ability comes from.]

Over here! He's over here!

[ The boy turns. He breaks into a run, and the knight with him. Wide green eyes take in the sight of his master, who lolls in Sayano's hold like a puppet whose strings were cut, unresponsive, and the aftermath of the clash that took place.

Once there, the knight extends her hand to Sayano, while the boy's arms reach for Emmanellain's still form, though he is significantly smaller than his companion, his head level with her waist. "Thank you," he says, audibly relieved. "Pray allow me to take him, and come with us to Camp Dragonhead."

Glancing at the ogre's carcass, the knight remarks, "Lord Emmanellain's luck is twofold, 'twas no aevis... But the wilds of Coerthas are best left to our patrols." Not to green, foolish lordlings is implied.

The green, foolish lordling begins to stir. ]

[Sayano allows both the boy and the knight to help - he sounds so certain he can hold Emmanellain she doesn't question his strength. Besides she's too grateful his life isn't entirely in her hands anymore to question it in the first place. Being solely responsible for another person's life or death is nerve-wracking, no matter how many times she may encounter such a situation.

That said, she feels the need to soften any judgment on him. While a patrol would certainly have done the same as far as rescuing her - she hopes - it was he who happened to come to her rescue. And she may have an idea as to why this ogre had strayed so far - she'd seen no other ogres in the area on the trek here, after all. It couldn't be normal.]

He may not be to blame for getting into this battle. The beast here - [she limps over and pulls her dagger free of its shoulder. It nearly topples her, with one weakened ankle, but this time she keeps her balance] - may have been drawn here because of me. I, um...

[She pauses and grins sheepishly, glancing at Witchdrop.] ...I nearly fell into this chasm here. He heard me call for help and rescued me...and that's when this creature appeared. It may have thought my distress would make me an easy meal, and found two where it expected one.

[She looks his way worriedly as Emmanellain starts to come around. She did her best to keep him safe, but didn't see how badly the ogre had hit him that one time. Was it stress, or was it injury?]

Honoroit...?

[ Emmanellain's young manservant has wisely knelt down on the ground to pillow his master's head in his lap and give Emmanellain time to wake, rather than taking on the entirety of a grown Elezen man's height and weight. Emmanellain's eyes open to a sky made of Honoroit's face, and he groans softly, becoming aware of various aches beneath a foggy disorientation. That goes hand in hand with banquets and tavern visits, from time to time, but he has no recollection of drinking a drop. Honoroit's presence is nothing out of the ordinary, at least.

The voices around him are next to seep into Emmanellain's awareness, sounds that slowly coalesce into words. He lifts his head, sits up with Honoroit's hands at the ready to catch him.

The gaps in his memory fill. ]

— Sayano! Are you injured?

[ He suspects what the others saw confirmed in Sayano's limping, her stance odd to his eye. The ogre's attacks were rather focused on her...

"Mayhap we ought continue this at the garrison," the knight suggests. Apparently not mollified by Sayano's speaking in Emmanellain's defense, she has but a sour frown for him. "We cannot spare the men for a needless search party." ]

[You can't blame a woman for trying. Sayano nods up at the knight and tilts her head for an apologetic smile for Emmanellain. It sounds like this wasn't uncommon, in some sense. There was probably little she could have said or done, if that was the case.]

It's nothing a generous mage and some rest wouldn't heal. You're all right, I hope?

[She makes her way closer to the group, ready to move with them, favoring one leg or not, and looks up at the knight with another nod, already feeling so much smaller than the height difference can account for. Why is it that Ishgardian knights have such a tendency to seem taller than they are? She almost feels she ought to apologize for distracting their lord on his way to them. She pushes the thought too silly to consider aside and instead remains silent, waiting to see if Emmanellain has any trouble getting to his feet.]

[ Fleetingly, Emmanellain deflates somewhat; at the knight's barb, meant for him, a shadow crosses his face. It vanishes quickly, however, and the smile he gives Sayano is filled with confidence, even if it falters when climbing to his feet looses a volley of pain upon his arm. He clutches that arm to his side.

Standing, Honoroit collects his master's discarded sword. The boy's eyes watch Emmanellain closely, but take the time to flick toward Sayano. ]

Our wounds are testament to the brave battle we fought! That ogre's brethren will think twice before they bother anyone else coming this way.

[ The knight steps closer to Sayano, offering her arm to support Sayano as they walk, in an effort to ease the strain on her ankle. ]

In any case, I'm certain Haurchefant will welcome you to Camp Dragonhead with open arms and let you stay however long you like. He's known for his hospitality, Haurchefant.

Thank you! [she says to the knight with a somewhat forced cheer, trying to dispel her unease and break the tension (that perhaps only she feels). She takes the knight's offered arm and grins more naturally at Emmanellain, though it's an impulsive smile that fades quickly with her words.]

Oh, I've heard! [Here is where her smile fades.] ...One of the only places truly friendly to outsiders here, wasn't it? At least, that's how it sounds from a seat at an Adventurer's Guild...

[ They move at a pace to accommodate Sayano's limp, steadily down the path leading to Camp Dragonhead's northern gates. Emmanellain walks on Sayano's other side, Honoroit beside him in turn. The young lord takes his hand from his arm, waving it in reassurance. ]

Well, yes, of the High Houses, House Fortemps is naturally your best choice to approach, and Haurchefant on his own embraces adventurers with the goodwill of a thousand men. Outside Ishgard's gates, you'll find work aplenty!

[ Arriving at the garrison at last, they have the perils of Coerthas behind them, but they arrive to a few stares, some for Sayano, some for Emmanellain's unusual state and the blade in Honoroit's hands. It reminds Emmanellain that they have evidence of their adventure staining their garments, and while it might inspire awe, it's honestly unpleasant to remain caked in it. ]

...Before introductions and the like, I suppose you'll want a bath and something clean to wear. Or your leg tended to first? In the meantime, I... will speak with Haurchefant — can't have him fretting that his search parties will bring back a chilled corpse!

I have spare clothes of my own in my bag...

[She has to wash her battle gear, after all. It was always a good idea to carry extra clothing! But she's distracted from that for a moment, noticing the stares and trying to ease the awkwardness with faint smiles in their direction. A bloodied adventurer's nothing entirely new, right? Nothing to see here, except...their also-blood-covered lord...

She hopes she isn't accused of trying to bring him to harm or anything of the sort. She'd heard things about the Ishgardian inquisitors...stories of her more gil-strapped friends looting a pendant off the corpse of some cultist assailant for their own gain and then having to explain themselves was the most common that actually seemed to pose a threat, however.

She lets the thought go soon enough, the thought of a bath inviting enough to help her begin to ignore it. The rest of the help mostly came from the adrenaline drop, as the walls and sentries put solid things between her and anything that might attack. Places like this were where she could relax, and it was an ingrained response right now, to expect reprieve. She finishes her sentence, relaxing a little despite the warm throbbing pain in her ankle.]

But if a bath can be spared for a grime-covered adventurer, I certainly wouldn't refuse it.

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stuck meme

I'll go with Echo'd random adventurer then!

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I was under the impression it was closer, oops! We can handwave it as echo or favorable wind ig?

Np, it can be any distance away that makes sense for Sayano!

Okay then!

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pfff, poor Emmanellain

Poor Sayano tbh!

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