EVENT LOG: A FRIEND IN NEED ( ALFHEIM )

[asgardmods]

Who: Everyone going to Alfheim
What: The mingle log for A Friend In Need
When: Days 387-390 ( Jan. 12-19 )
Where: Asgard, Alfheim, and the train ride inbetween
Rating: PG-13. Anything higher than that should be taken to a private log, please!

Day 387 ( Jan. 12/13 )

Before boarding the train around dawn, the leaders of the separate groups should run checks on everyone that's signed up. Natives will help dish out a simple weapon to those without their own that want one, medical supplies to the healers and a simple kit for everyone else, and a simple mask with strict instructions to put them on as soon as the kingdom is within sight. After everyone is geared up and boarded, Odin's spies will set out on horseback first, masks already in place, to clear the path ahead. This gives you a five hour train ride to go over strategies and coordinate with your fellow Travellers and the Asgard natives that have joined the ranks.

As the train crosses the halfway mark between Asgard and Alfheim, the dark black clouds of smoke and ash will sprawl across the horizon and thicken the air, prompting early placement of the gas masks as a precautionary measure. It's a short trip from there, and once the train has stopped, it's time to get to work. The homes and buildings of Alfheim will be in varying states of disarray and ruin, some still burning as the inhabitants and neighbours struggle to douse the flames. Others will be smouldering, successfully saved or otherwise left to burn itself out in the days since the initial attack. There will still be Fire Giants sparsely wreaking havoc amongst the living quarters, but the vast majority of the fighting will have been drawn into the treeline by the Elves to give room for relief efforts and any evacuation attempts. Homes and larger buildings still largely intact will have been turned into temporary hospital rooms or safe houses for the young and incapable of fighting, with the injured laid out anywhere there is room; the dead will be wrapped in sodden sheets in the alleys between buildings until they can be properly buried - if ever they should find the opportunity.

This leaves the Travellers to split up and jump head first into their tasks. The Elves will be pleasantly surprised and immensely grateful for the arrival of aid, but they will not spare much time to gratitude when the battle wages and every second counts. Those fighting will immediately accept the Travellers into their defence, and from there, they will begin to push back against the Giants' forces. At this point, it will be largely defensive combat, an attempt to keep the Giants from moving further into the kingdom and setting more to flames. Surt himself will be present in this, and a vast majority of those that try to stand against him will be met with a heavy hand. Move carefully, Travellers, for there is still fight left in these desperate Giants.

Day 388/389 ( Jan. 14-17 )

By early morning, just as the Sun is beginning to rise, the Travellers will receive some support from their patron deities back in Asgard. For the next two days, they will have their House Powers to give them that extra edge on the battlefield. Another surprise will arrive as well, as the trees themselves seem to move through the battlefield to push back the Giants. The Treepeople will have arrived, many of whom direct their efforts towards the support group to help control the flames while others exact their grief and anger on the enemy forces that still linger around. These beings are the oldest in Yggdrasil, second only to the immortals, and strongly resemble their respective forests, but they are strong and firmly rooted in the Mother's survival.

They will fight alongside the Travellers until they are cut down or the battle is won, which it seems it will be when the flames begin to significantly dwindle nearing sunrise on Day 389. From that point onward, those fighting for Alfheim will rise to the offence and the Giants will begin to fall back as their numbers lessen and their advantage wanes. They will begin fleeing the kingdom, leaving Surt with only his loyalists at his side - and against the might of the Travellers and the Elves emboldened by their allies' support, they few will not be enough to claim the entire kingdom.

Day 390 ( Jan. 18-19 )

The Travellers' House Powers will fade before sunrise, but between the combined strengths of them, the Elves, and the Treepeople, they will still quickly overpower Surt's remaining forces and send them scurrying back to their ruined kingdom of Muspellheim. Surt will leave weary and more furious than ever at his failure, but he knows too that to stand alone would be his downfall. The battle is won, but the damage has been great and there is little time for celebration. The Travellers will be given the most sincere gratitude from the people of Alfheim, and sent back home with packs of food and supplies to patch themselves up before they arrive back in Asgard as the loyal and true allies to Yggdrasil and her children.

[ OOC NOTES: This is the mingle log for the A Friend In Need plot event! Team sign-ups are over here and it is never too late to join, thought the leadership positions have already been chosen. To plot out a thread with Surt, please comment here. Let us know if you have any questions or concerns! ]

Comments

Days 387 - 390

[teenyoda]

Day 387
It was too damn early for him to be awake. That was what he kept telling himself as he yawned repeatedly while he found himself a place to sit on the train, sort of turning in against the wall and pillowing his head with his jacket.

And fell promptly back asleep. Hey, if he was going to be fighting evil today, he needed to be well rested. So anyone that comes across him will find him dozing lightly.

Day 388/389
His world has been trimmed down to smoke and fire and ash, the gloom of the billowing clouds hanging over them putting him in a sour mood. Or maybe that was just him low on energy, using what he could to control and lessen the worst of the blazes he came across. As a higher level Fire user, he found himself volleyed all over the place, getting calls to tamp down the flames at one place, then having to run off and do it on the far end of the battlefield to put out more fires. He was glad that whatever took their powers away while they were out of Asgard had somehow been tweaked, because he would have been pretty useless otherwise.

He didn't want to have to do it, but on occasion, he'd have to stop and get a little energy boost from those who were storing it, needing it to keep from falling flat on his face and to continue to help control the blazes. He prioritized dousing any of the treefolk he saw catch fire since, you know, bad form to just watch your allies roast.

Stiles had started out with a small group, four of them designated to one area, but there was just too much chaos, too much smoke to keep an eye on everyone, even though he tried. Which was just compounded by him trying to keep an eye on Rachel, Isaac, Jade, and everyone else that he'd come to actually give a crap about since he'd arrived here. Isaac and Jade were harder to keep an eye on since they were being infinitely stupid and running headlong into the fray. You'd think Isaac would have learned by now. But no, there he was, stabbing people with shadows and setting his 'wolves' on them. And Jade was just as bad with her molesting vines and whatnot being all molestery. But hey, she was actually doing it for a good cause now instead of freaking out newbies. She could stand to look less like she was having fun, though. Rachel was easier to keep tabs on since she was being sensible and staying out of the whole fighting/stabbing/death zone, but he still found himself drawn over to check on her -- probably more than he should have been. He didn't always go and talk to her since she was busy doodling up armor and supplies (armor that he was wearing himself, thank you Miss Dare), but as long as he could see that head of red curls and know it was okay and she was in one piece, he could rest easy enough to go off to the next fire patch.

He'd find himself tugged to the side on occasion, either to get some water and something to eat, to be shoved somewhere and told to get a nap, or to get a power boost when he felt himself flagging. Other than that, his world was pretty much fire, fire, and more fire.

Day 390
When his powers faded and he couldn't summon up so much as a wisp of smoke, he didn't really know what else to do other than stand there sort of in a stupor. But hey, they'd won, right? There were cheers and hoots, but there were also still people that needed seeing to. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to be the one doing that.

He wrapped up his trip like he'd started it; spending most, if not all of the train ride home sleeping. He was exhausted, dirty, and probably smelled like he'd escaped from a barbecue pit. He wanted to go home, check on Scott, have a shower, hug his dad (or maybe hug his dad and then have a shower), then maybe convince Rachel to come home with him and curl up with him there since he didn't think he'd have the energy to leave his house when he was that close to his bed.

Look, Scott. He didn't die this time. Yay?

Day 390

[tradingsecrets]

Finnick had been in a foul mood since he had found out that Annie had gone without talking to him about it first. He had been injured, tossed around, and had finally been able to get back to the train. He hadn't let anyone talk to him from home, and so he moved slowly to find a place to sleep and just be away from everyone that he was usually around.

Spotting Stiles, he sat across from him, hugging one of his arms to his chest and looking out the window, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Definitely not the same happy go lucky Finnick Odair. Good thing Stiles was asleep for now, he could actually just relax and rest without having to fake his mood.

His eyes actually moved over Stiles though for a second, checking him to make sure that he was okay for the most part. After all, Stiles was someone he still was fond of.

[teenyoda]

Stiles was fine, for the most part. A few scrapes and bruises and a lot of smeared ash all over him, but other than looking utterly exhausted, even while sleeping, he was fine.

Well, other than twitching in his sleep and sort of making little noises. Oh, look, Finnick. You're just in time for a little nightmare. How lucky.

388

[bays]

Tom's been separated from the rest of his group, and he knows he should try to find them. They're a team. But the battle's at its height, and Tom can't tear him away from the fight. He's bloody and filthy and his lungs don't feel quite right, but he's still standing.

It's only when there's no one immediate to push back that Tom stumbles off. He ends up where the smoke is heavy; maybe he should've used that mask, because his eyes sting with it. He finally lays on his back to rest, panting and trying to spit out the taste of smoke and ash.

[teenyoda]

Stiles has his mask on, Darth Vadering it up as he roams around trying to put out fire patches here and there and, oh, more over here. He almost trips over the body in front of him and he doesn't want to look down to see what might be the charred remains of--

Oh, crap. Is that Tom? "Hey, whoa, buddy. Don't tell me you're dead. Alex will kick my ass."

[bays]

"Alex?"

That name is enough to bring him around again. Tom struggles to sit up, peering closely at the mask as he tries to figure out who's behind it.

"Stiles? Did ya just say something about Alex? Is she okay?"

[teenyoda]

"Is she here? Crap, well, I hope so. But you, buddy, we gotta get you up and somewhere not... here."

He squatted down, moving to slip an arm around Tom's back and try to help him up. "You gotta help me here, Tom. I'm not He-Man."

389

[timaeus_testified]

Stiles isn't the only one running from place to place, with powers in high demand. Dirk hadn't anticipated how few ice users would have their powers up to a sufficient level. Thank fuck he isn't the only one at level three.

He meets his fellow housemate before a moderate blaze and doesn't hesitate to summon up a sheet of ice with a gesture to cover one side of it. "I see you got the hang of fire. Need a hand once we're done here? I'm draining the last of my battery before I head off to get a recharge."

[teenyoda]

With half the fire suddenly being covered in ice, Stiles feels a bit relief that he can manage the other half, twirling it up into a spiral twist towards the air until there's nothing left for it to do but burn itself out. He's running low on personal fuel himself, something he takes note of when Dirk mentions getting a recharge. "Yeah, actually. Mostly in part thanks to you. That little word trick came in handy and helped me do a little honing when I needed it."

He hadn't seen the guy much, but hey, he'd remember that fateful piece of info. "You think they have enough chargers for me to grab a boost as well? I'm about tapped."

[timaeus_testified]

"They'll have enough. I've seen several around and that's on the defense team alone." He glances around, listening carefully for any giants. Last thing they need is to be this tired and get into trouble. "The city is back that way if you need a moment to get something to eat on top of a recharge." Just to be safe, he draws his sword while heading back towards the outpost the defense team secured.

Dirk knows better than to think anything would be easy. It never is. "While talking, if you need a blade I have spares on me."

[teenyoda]

He laughed at that, a tired and worn out sound that probably came out sounding more like a bleat than anything. "Yeah, me and weapons aren't a good idea. I'm likely to gash myself open or drop it on someone's foot. They're really only effective if you know how to use them and, trust me, I don't."

Stiles could swing the hell out of a bat, but anything more complicated was likely to wind up doing more harm than good.

389

[livedtwice]

It was almost impossible to keep track of everything during the battle. Fire grew around Harry, and any amount of peripheral vision that he had was obscured by a mixture of the gas mask and his glasses; he wished that his jokes about his vision weren't true, but they were—he couldn't think of risking this battle in the least without his glasses, and he knew he couldn't take the mask off, either.

But that didn't keep Harry from trying to fight. Though there were moments when he did his best to remain at the sites for healers, there were other times when he couldn't sit still and wait. Those were the times when he tended to slip out, ensuring a pattern of looking straight ahead, to his right, to his left, and trying to overcome the weakness of his sight.

He was in the middle of one of these when he came across Stiles, and though Harry knew he shouldn't be fighting, he was envious. Of course, he would be; he wished his power was better for this. Harry's hands gripped his sword as he came to stand near him. There weren't any immediate giants—at least for the moment—and he took the time to look him over. "Are you hurt at all?" came out first. Even with his sword prepped, he did know he had responsibilities out here. Those were still important.

[teenyoda]

Amazing how everyone could look the same with a gas mask on. Like weird hazmat clones. Which made him think of Clone Wars. Which made him wonder if Boba Fett would do Darth Vader impressions in a gas mask and if Chewbacca would laugh if he heard one. Were wookie laughs totally different from wookie roars?

Which made him realize that maybe he needed to sit down for a minute. "What? No, no, I'm good." Mostly. Okay, he was a little worn out, but he'd dimmed down quite a few blazes. He was entitled to be tired. "What're you doing here?" Because Stiles had been so observant (not) on the train ride over.

[livedtwice]

"I tend to fight in every battle," Harry responds immediately, because it's the most smart assed of the possible responses. He's not certain what Stiles is asking, anyway, because the question itself isn't very specific. "I did tell you I've done this before, right?" Which he's aware is laying it on a bit thick, but he turns, indicating (or trying to indicate) that they can have this conversation while they walk.

[teenyoda]

Right. Following. He could do that. "Yeah, well, people say lots of things they don't mean. Or, you know, puff up the truth." Stiles sort of deflated his. Nothing like telling everyone you palled around with werewolves to have people give you the side-eye. "What're you doing here, though. Shouldn't you be out being all sword swingy?"

day 388/389 or somewhere in between

[swedge]

Jo hated her powers. That was a fact that just about anyone who knew her, or had been around her during any kind of action, would know. She hated that she didn't get the chance to fly, or have super strength, or ice or fire or drawing or anything at all that would help her to fight. Not that her powers weren't useful, because they definitely were, but always for other people. Enough that she had to fight her way to the front lines, that she was all but useless in the actual fighting of it- because turns out, fire giants aren't all that affected by shotguns. Or crossbows. Who would have known.

At least with the Ice Giants there had been grenades. Self igniting molotov cocktails. Things that could work against ice. Fires? Fires need water and water had to be transported, or carried, or moved. And the only way to do that effectively was if you had some kind of power.

So that left Jo with trying to contain fires already started, and stepping in when the people who could actually get things done needed it. Which is where Stiles comes in, when she sees him across the way sort of half-stumbling under the weight of exhaustion. He probably doesn't even see her coming, but he'll feel the hand on his shoulder, and the sudden boost that came with it.

"You're no use to anyone if you collapse, Stiles."

[teenyoda]

When had the world gotten so hot? Why was he wearing clothes? They'd be soaked with sweat if he had any fluid left in him. When would this war be over? Could he take a nap? God, he wanted some ice cream. A big pool of ice cream with little tubs of whipped cream and toppings floating on it with him just diving right into the middle. Best brain freeze ever.

Maybe he should just... lay down. Right here. No one would mind, right?

Apparently someone did. But the jolt of energy that came with the grip on his shoulder had his head clearing enough that he could lift it and look up at a familiar face. "Oh, hey there. Collapsing? Who said anything about collapsing? I was just... resting my... everything."

[swedge]

She just kind of laughed at that, pulling her hand back and giving herself a moment to work the feeling back into her digits. It's been a while since she's had to use her power this frequently, and she's not too sure how long she'll be able to keep this up. Must be why she's sticking to people who look like they're moments away from melting. Sometimes literally.

"Resting your everything in the middle of a battle? Not my choice of nap spots."

[teenyoda]

"I'm a teenage guy. I can nap on top of the Eiffel Tower if you give me two seconds to lean on something." But he was feeling a bit better. God, he had to watch that. No sleeping during fighting, Stiles. Not unless he got knocked upside the head.

He looked up at her, a half-smile on his face. "You checking up on me? Or did I just look that bad?"

[freezerburned]

[By contrast, actually, Isaac isn't charging headfirst into things. Crazy, he knows. No, what he's doing is protecting Stiles. Not overtly, not in any way that can really be accused of protection, but Isaac is always at least somewhat nearby- and when he can't be, one can be sure that one of his wolves are.

So when Stiles finally gets himself in trouble- when he's cornered between three giants, all with harsh looking weapons in their hands- Isaac is there.

Really, he seems to come from nowhere, jumping from one of the lower branches of the trees and blocking the first volley of fire with a shield that seems to be made of shadow. He lands quickly on his feet in front of Stiles- ow- and grins behind him toward the other boy as the wolves start circling around the shield and charging for the first of the fire giants.]

Need a hand?

[teenyoda]

No.

[Yes. But hey, it wasn't like he was going to fling himself at Isaac in gratitude or anything. Yet. There was a definite sense of relief when he realized that he wasn't going to get shipped back to his dad in a little urn (YET) and that Scott wouldn't have to give him that look that said clearly Stiles couldn't do anything on his own.

The only reason he hadn't really done anything about the shooting flames coming for him was... well, he was tired. Drained. He needed a recharge and the big wall of fire had just been too much. He looked over at Isaac and yeah, there was a little smidgen of gratitude there.]

You're enjoying this, aren't you?

[freezerburned]

This, what? Fighting an army of giants or saving your ass?

[He grins though, stepping in front of Stiles and crouching low on the ground his fingers curled slightly as he pulls more wolves from the grass and sets them on the giants. Isaac has learned the hard way that even touching them results in a burn, and so he's had to nix the shadow claw idea and try to fight from a distance.

Not the most fun thing in the world, but he manages. The wolves manage to take out the leg of one of the giants, falling upon it to destroy it as it crashes to the ground- that leaves two others who are quickly descending on them both.]

...we should probably run.

388

[truesight]

[ it had been, roughly, twenty-two hours since Rachel last got the chance to talk to Stiles, back on the train on the way here. which doesn't seem like a lot of time, but it kind of is when there's a war going on and you would really rather stick close to the people you care about. she'd seen him, of course, but he was doing the fire thing and she was doing the armor thing and it was sort of completely out of the question to run over just to say hey. as long as he was still running around, she wasn't too worried. running and fire-put-outting meant he wasn't hurt. nothing to worry about. and honestly, she's got a pretty great job in this whole thing. she's not too far away from the main action, needing to be there to draw weapons or replace worn and torn armor, but she's just drawing. and it's helping. she's helping! which is pretty much all she's focusing on. have to keep drawing, and keep her energy up, so she can help.

but anyway.

all that drawing, it leads to changes and improvements, which is where she's at now, pulling off a leather chestplate from the page that's ( mostly ) identical to the one she made for Stiles days before coming here. which is when she finally leaves the tent after hours and hours of drawing, squinting through the smoke that clouds her vision almost immediately. gods, it's for the best she's been stuck behind a curtain, because this is so freaking awful. it's loud, and stuffy, and her skin's prickling from the heat alone. yeah, definitely not built for fighting wars, this one. but she has to find Stiles.

to give him his new armor! he has to have it now. and it has nothing to do with the fact that maybe she wants to check up on him.

it takes her a bit to find him, lots of weaving through people who are rushing to swap out weapons or take a breather, but eventually she spots him, and she waits until he's done putting out a particularly awful sort of ragey-fire before jogging over to him. ]

Hey, cutie.

[ YEAH LET'S PRETEND THIS ISN'T HORRIFYING ]

Arms up, I'm going to unbuckle you.

[ as soon as he does that, she tucks the new armor under her arm and gets to work on getting him out of the one he's wearing. which is hot, uh, figuratively, which is nice, but also literally, the leather and buckles are hot to the touch, but she winces through it pretty quick. all while explaining- ]

The new one's lighter, actually kinda breathable. Not sure if that matters, do you get hot from the fire or just from running around so much? Either way. You won't get dehydrated as quickly, it should, hopefully, absorb your bodyheat instead of trapping it like this one. Less sweat. And it's lighter, did I say that? You'll be able to move in it a little more comfortably-

HI BB

[teenyoda]

[It was only the first day of trying to actually be useful, but after most of it was spent dodging projectiles and setting out blazes, Stiles found even his hyperactive reserves fading. He'd gone for a top up twice, mostly after having to do large chunks of fire control, and was probably running on about forty percent of his usual full tank.

So it took him a second to realize he knew that voice and that it was talking to him.][He turned to face her, probably a stupid idea since he had a cut on the side of his head from an arrow that had gotten a little too close. The blood had dried by now, matting his hair and the wound closed, but it probably looked... gross.

But then her hands are moving over him and he sort of just wants to touch her, because she's this bright little beacon of clean in this gross ashy pit of hell, but he keeps his hands to himself. He knows he's filthy and no way is he going to dirty her up.

She's rambling, like she does when she's trying not to feel something, and he's trying not to smile at her. They're both failing, clearly, but it's a good kind of failing.]

I'll bet it'll help a lot. Thanks, Red.

[truesight]

[ the first leather plate drops to the ground and she just leaves it because it's not really going to be useful to anyone else, unless they've got Stiles' measurements. custom armor is fun like that. so she lets it drop and gets to buckling on the new one, until she's tucking her fingers into the collar and slowly pushing him away, then pulling him in close again. fits right. snug, but not too tight. good. and now she'll actually let herself look at him, quick to find his eyes because that's a thing, she doesn't really have to look him over if she can just make eye-contact with him. that's usually telling enough.

but then, so's all that blood!!! ]

Do you need stitches? Stiles. [ trying to look very serious here, but it's probably just coming off all WORRYWORRYWORRY ] You would tell me if it was bad-bad. Right? You're not dizzy or anything, are you? If it's just a scrape then I won't freak out, but if you need to get that looked at and cleaned out, you tell me right now. The medical tent is right by mine.