Anarchistbanjo's World

Day 1: The Circle’s Stand

Dusk bled over Xenon, a crimson haze threading a fractured sky—explosions roared in the distance, their hum faltering as the shattered earth pulsed beneath the Knights’ boots, rubble trembling like a strained heart. A bitter wind whipped through, ash and iron threading sharp from below—war-torn vines clung sparse across the ruins, their glow dimming through broken walls, the landscape groaning under endless strife. Tobal stepped from the rift’s shimmer into a cratered clearing, his tunic—red, frayed—flapping loose, wild hair brushing his shoulders—scars ached, medallion glowing, gold humming bold against his chest, yang’s awareness threading his grip as he scanned the chaos—Fiona’s warmth pressed near, a spiced spark threading his focus. Fiona slipped beside him, her tunic—rough, stitched—billowing free, red hair spilling wild, green eyes glinting sharp—her staff rested firm, wood gnarled, yin’s wild pulsing through her veins, vines twitching faint against the rubble—her hand brushed his arm, a tender heat flaring bold.

A low hum groaned through—Xenon’s cry, raw and urgent, threading through the wild—“War consumes—wild dies”—a sharp clash followed, steel and screams echoing, the constant fighting of warring factions tearing the world apart. Lumens glided in, her silver luminescent skin glowing soft in a black dress, green hair flowing like vines, eyes flaring with earth’s core—shimmering wisps pulsed, threading toward the shattered ground. Becca stomped into the circle, her tunic—dark, torn—stretched taut over broad shoulders, shaved head catching the crimson light—blue eyes flared fierce, axe sharp in her grip, yin’s wild snarling low as she eyed the distant blasts—her breath steamed hot. Rafe darted to a broken wall, his tunic—coarse, patched—flapping loose, hazel eyes glinting mischief—his knife spun, steel flashing, yang’s playful spark threading his wiry frame as he nicked a vine—a grin flashed sly. Cal stepped steady into the center, his tunic—soft, faded—hanging loose, tangled brown hair brushing his brow—gray eyes steadied calm, spear light in his grip, yang’s quiet strength pulsing steady as he traced the hum—his stance rooted firm. Valentine bounded in, his coat—thick, matted—bristling faint, yellow eyes glinting sharp—claws scraped rubble, yang’s instinct rumbling low through his shaggy stride, nose flaring at the war’s stench.

The warworn hum faltered—a chaotic drone pulsed through Xenon’s wild, cold claws threading violence and death—factions clashed, their killing sapping the pulse—yet the crew chose peace. Fiona’s vines surged—“Web’s weak—Xenon’s alive”—her voice sang low, green eyes narrowing as vines brushed the earth, a faint warmth threading her grasp—her hip pressed Tobal’s, a spiced warmth weaving through—“Love binds”—her breath brushed his ear, heat flaring soft. Tobal’s pulse thumped—“War kills—duality heals”—his voice rasped firm, brown eyes glinting as his whip coiled loose—yang’s spark pulsed calm, a flicker grounding free—his hand gripped her waist, sparking alive—“We sit—peace grows”—his grip steadied, wild threading bold.

They formed a circle—Becca’s growl rumbled—“I’ll fight with peace”—blue eyes blazed, axe resting as yin’s fire pulsed, her breath easing calm—“Love cuts!” Rafe’s knife stilled—“War’s noise—quiet it”—breath minty, a spark settling as he sat, yang’s thrill weaving wild—his grin flashed keen—“Duality sings!” Cal’s spear dipped—“Wild’s faint—hold it”—his voice flowed low, gray eyes tracing the circle, yang steadying the web—“Xenon breathes”—his stance rooted deep. Valentine’s snarl softened—“Web cries”—yellow eyes flared, claws easing as the wild’s cry pulsed through his growl—fur rippled calm—“Peace howls!” Lumens’ wisps flared—“War fades—love weaves”—her voice hummed low, green hair swaying as she joined the circle—“Duality’s embrace”—her silver form pulsed, strength threading through.

The circle glowed—rubble stilled—war’s clash hissed cold—wild’s hum weakened, but Xenon’s cry surged, threading through—the crew sat firm with Lumens in the warworn hub, meditating on love and peace, duality as the loving embrace of opposites weaving fierce against the pulse of Xenon’s strife.