The Wrath of Zeus

[pharmakis]

WHO: Circe
WHERE: Near the Mill
WHEN: 7/10
OPEN TO: Jon Snow, OTA
WARNINGS: Lightning strike

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Closed to Jon Snow:

The singing of the plants had returned. While she wasn't able to cast, she could hear and influence her garden as she used to on Aiaia. Despite the warning of the storms, she ventured outside daily. The upgrowth of the blue lilies and the ringing of electricity fascinated her. They had been gathering around the edges of her land, sprouting where lightning hit, so similar to the stories her uncles told about the battle between gods and Titans. Where their blood had spilled, flowers followed.

She could remember reflecting on this before the air tingled around her. Her hair stood on edge and then everything was dark. When she came to, Jon Snow was standing over her. There was a familiar ache, a burning that she hadn't felt since her father's anger. Oh gods! Was she turning to char again? She touched her face, feeling for scars or burn. "What happened?"

OTA (Circe's House):

Mortality was a frail, fragile thing. When her father had let his heat nearly burn her to ashes, all it had taken was a simple salve and a few words of power for her brother to heal her completely. Now, she was reduced to lying in bed and waiting for her body to recover. Every small movement ached and her heart thrummed heavily in her chest. It was still beating. It was a consolation in the face of everything else.

Despite orders to stay in place, she often wandered outside to her garden, casting an eye to the sky. The storm was still fierce, Zeus was raging in the clouds. It wasn't difficult to determine where she was when lightning had hit her, a patch of blue lilies now growing over the charred earth. "Does my blood give them magic now?"

001 - That Was Fast [OPEN]

[theimmortalweapon]

WHO: Danny Rand
WHERE: All around the village
WHEN: July 10th to July 13th
OPEN TO: All [* closed to the first person who tags it]
WARNINGS: N/A

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FOUNTAIN; JUL 10 *

"I am treating you with respect by being who I truly am. Not everyone around you does the same."

The old woman's voice rang through Danny's head in stern warm notes. He had passed another test, faced another servant of the Hand, he had won and wanted to demand answers about his parents death. Familiar words, taunts, his parents, the monks, Madame Gao . . . Danny didn't know what was real and what wasn't and, before he could get his bearings, he felt himself floating. Water surrounded him, filling his lungs and clouding his senses with its smooth cool touch. A soft push encouraged him towards the distorted light, shimmering above his head, as his lungs began to burn impatiently demanding air.

Was this torture?

He could handle torture, the monk's had taught him to withstand pains and torments before he'd been allowed to obtain the mantel of the Ironfist. Some Ironfist he's turning out to be. Controlled by his anger, he left K'un-Lun, but Danny didn't regret it. Even now, it felt like the right choice. Why else would they have chosen an outsider to take the trial? He had been able to find the Hand. He can stop them once and for all . . .

A fuzzy haze filled Danny's thoughts as cold rain began to beat down on his face, his shoulders and chest. He's floating; an awkward weight pulling at him as his clothes shift and ripple with the steady disturbance of the rain. He tried to remember what he'd been doing . . . Gao, Colleen, Claire? They had been fighting. He's been . . . his head throbbed and his thoughts slipped away from him.

He was floating but for some reason he didn't have the strength to pull himself from the water.

INN; JUL 10

It had taken Danny a few hours to shake off the haze of his arrival. He felt drugged, hungover and wet.

This wasn't the first time he had traveled to an unexplainable world but he'd never thought that it would happen again and without any memory of his arrival to draw on. He'd lived in K'un-Lun for over a decade before the way had opened again, how long would it be until he returned home this time?

He couldn't wait that long.

Danny stripped in front of the inn's fire, hanging the dark green scrub on the mantel in hopes to dry the soaked fabric. Dirty blond curls hung limply around his head as he bathed in the heat of the fire. He watched the flames danced, licking up the side of the logs and curling into the air as light flicker into an invisible heat. It was easy to lose himself to his thoughts and the turmoil that he had felt bubbling inside of him.

The black mark of his dragon tattoo along with decade's worth of hideous scars marked and marred his chest, shoulders and back. Danny didn't look like much, his features were pleasant, cute even, but his body told the story of a man who had ventured through hell and managed to come out the other side.

INN; JUL 10/11 *

Midnight neared and Danny felt the hour approaching like an instant ache in his side.

As comfortable as the bed was, he couldn't sleep. Madame Gao's words hummed like a pained memory in his head, repeating over and over again as if to haunt him. His fingers curled into a fist and he punched the wall of the room shaking the wooden planks that defined and shaped the inn's upper floor. He didn't have the strength of the undying dragon, he hadn't been able to access the Ironfist for days but it felt further away from him now, as if the water of the well had stolen more than just a few hours of his memories.

A groan rumbled through his chest as he pushed himself up from his bed.

Danny didn't consider the noise he was making, he hadn't even thought that punching the wall might rouse someone from their bed or call someone already awake to the source of the noise. His focus was centered on his thoughts and the growing frustration he felt bubbling in his chest.

The door to his room was open and anyone coming to inspect the noise would find Danny standing in front of the window, watching as the rain beat angrily against the glass. He looked tense, angry and once again he was shirtless.

TOWN; JUL 11 THRU 13

It was an hour before sunrise.

Danny hadn't slept well but he wasn't going to let that get in the way of his usual morning routine. He found a small clearing of grass, just outside of the inn, and began shifting through the calming stances he'd learned during his training in K'un-Lun. Those familiar with martial arts will notice that Danny's style is a combination of a few different Kung Fu technics though with a slightly different edge or flair to each motion. He favored forms that were prevalent in Tia Chi but even that couldn't exactly quantify what he was doing.

He trained for a little over an hour, half way through taking off his shirt as sweat and mist dotted his shoulders and back. He felt the cool humidity dance against his skin, warning him of the impending rain, but ignored it.

After training, Danny headed back to the inn to grab something to eat and figure out how he could assist those living in the village. He'd speak to anyone who was around or stand there looking a little bit like a lost puppy. He decided that today he'd explore, cut some wood for the inn and gather his bearings. He didn't like the idea of not chipping in, even if he'd only arrived the day before.

Towards the afternoon, he took an hour to meditate on the lip of the fountain. Danny tried to remember how he had gotten here, what paths he had walked but his memories held nothing but darkness. A low annoyed growl rumbled through his chest before releasing his breath and his anger. He couldn't summon the Ironfist and he couldn't find any answers.

What use was he?

In the evening Danny chopped wood outside of the inn. This time he'd left the hunter green scrub in his room but had grabbed a towel to whip off the beads of sweat that dotted his skin. Rain began to fall in a slow steady dribble but that didn't deter Danny from splintering the thick logs and placing them under the inn's awning so they can dry.

[ooc: Feel free to run into Danny at any time during this last post over the next few days.]