Event Log: May, An Inauspicious Arrival

[faileas]

Event Log: May, An Inauspicious Arrival

I. Boaltinn (1st - 3rd) Boaltinn comes around again. A handful of Mirrorbound will remember the holiday from last year, but for others, it will be brand new. In both Residential Districts, bonfires burn in central locations through the night, frequented by the residents celebrating another summer come to Aefenglom. Curiously, while last year the bonfires seemed quite segregated by human or Monster, this year, there is more of a noticeable mix at each, and Mirrorbound are invited to join the games and festivities quite happily. Characters are invited to try and jump through the bonfire's flames to burn away any poor relationship experiences, be it romantic or platonic, past or present; to aid them in this, those at the Eastern Bonfire will give those participating rune-etched accessories to protect them from the fire. The city has quite a bit to offer for this holiday: shared rose baths at public bathhouses and pleasure establishments that increase feelings of friendliness and talkativeness, poles draped in ribbons meant to be danced around, wrapping a ribbon around the pole to bring good luck for the summer, food stalls whose offerings are meant to be shared, and fortune-telling set up by Divination students of the Coven, who can tell your day is going to go. To see last year's Boaltinn prompts, you can take a glance right here! Much of it, including the bonfires, baths, and entertainments will be similar this year, so feel free to use those in your top levels.

II. An Unusual Arrival (3rd on) A full year from the arrival of the first group of Mirrorbound, the 1st passes quietly, with no one showing up in the mirror-lined halls of the Looking-Glass House. Dates and times are important in most kinds of magic, and this is strange enough that some Witches of the Coven get together on the night of the 3rd to try a probing ritual, attempting to gather some kind of clues that could be useful in prying out the cottage's secrets. Boaltinn is the best time for such things, when the boundaries are thinner, and magic is stronger. Those who are awake that night at 3 am might notice a pulse of harmless silvery light that spreads like ripples on water throughout the whole city, originating at the Looking-Glass House, but nothing further happens, and the Coven receives no answers. Well, nothing happens in the Looking-Glass House. Before long, the reports start coming in: people are emerging from mirrors, regular old mundane mirrors, all over the city. Anything with a particularly reflective surface could be an entry point for someone from another world! Inhabited homes, businesses closed and locked for the night, pools of still water in fountains or the river, these unorthodox Mirrorbound pop up anywhere and everywhere, causing chaos for the City Guard (folks aren't happy to find strangers in their bathrooms at 3 in the morning) and the Coven both. Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. If you are one of these unfortunate arrivals, it's likely a rude awakening for you, to find yourself somewhere inconvenient, somewhere other than where you've been. It only makes sense to be confused. Hopefully someone finds you and explains to you what's happened to you. Resident Mirrorbound will hear a message from Miss Nessie shortly after it begins, a call to arms: "Dears, I'm quite sorry to disturb you, but it seems your fellows are arriving elsewhere than the Looking-Glass House this month! We're trying to track them all down for the usual welcome, but we could use a hand or several! If you could just bring them by the Coven, the usual spot, that would be lovely." She'll give her usual orientation and pass out Watches, but no doubt the Mirrorbound will be more helpful in this regard, with so many arriving.

III. The Goblin Market (All Month) Life goes on in Aefenglom, despite the addition of so many new residents. With the City Guard decidedly busy dealing with the sudden flood of break-ins (or, more accurately, break-outs?), the vendors of the Goblin Market find opportunity to set up their stalls more openly than they have since the crack-downs some months ago. They pop up all over the city, but clustered more often in the Residential Districts and the Harbor District, where there are even fewer law enforcement agents out and about to run them off. These sellers, while not as devoid of morals as those major players of the Black Market, still have very few compunctions when it comes to lying, cheating, fencing stolen goods, and misrepresenting their wares to unsuspecting buyers. It's also the place to find those things that are- not quite legal, shall we say. They won't say a word if you don't. If confronted, they are quick to pack up their things and slip away, however; they know this city and its hiding places a lot better than you do. With a brand new batch of what the natives assume are Mirrorbound, many undergoing rapid transformations into their Monster forms, many of the wares on display are potions: supposed cure-alls for aches and itches, calming draughts for the full moon restlessness, some even claim their brews can halt changes entirely! Some concoctions are meant to increase a Witch's magical ability, or decrease it, or provide them a finer control. They offer potions that they say will eliminate the need for a Bond, or temporary Bonding potions of their own that they claim are more pure, stronger, than the ones offered by the Coven. Claims are only claims, though. A few remedies for the pain of changing or some regular temporary Bonding potions can be found here and there, but for every potion that works, there are twenty more that have less than pleasant side effects. A brew that will cause everything you touch to turn to solid gold for up to an hour; a potion that will invert your sense of direction - trying to turn right will make you turn left, trying to go forward will cause you to walk backward; a potion that will remove all traction from your feet, causing you to slide around as if cobblestone are the slickest ice. Worse, some shadier vendors sell things more sinister, including a potion that gives you the appearance of being moderately to heavily infected by the Cwyld. Even if you don't drink any, the vendors are not at all careful where they're sloshing those bottles around, trying to show them off, and they all activate on skin contact.

IV. A Wilde Hunt (7th - 22nd) All Mirrorbound, temporary or not, are likely to feel it. Monsters are always affected by the full moons, but this month, it is more. Stronger. Instincts rise to the surface as the Sisters emerge full and visible in the night sky, and for many Mirrorbound, they are undergoing rapid transformations into whatever type of Monster they are meant to be. Curiously, the natives get along like they usually do, noticing nothing out of the norm, other than the increased agitation and restlessness from Mirrorbound Monsters. Monsters' aggression fades when the Sisters start to wane, but as the new moons approach on the 22nd, Mirrorbound Witches will notice their magical reserves overfilling, and will find themselves stricken with the overwhelming urge to use it, until casting spells, pushing one's magical limits, is almost a compulsion. Those who are not in proper Witch-Monster Bonds will feel it even stronger, with no stabilizing magic to consume (for Monsters) or avenues to expend magic (for Witches) other than casting spells. (For those who are interested, the Coven does offer temporary Bonding potions which can be used to help alleviate the effects somewhat.) The Coven Witches notice the signs, and they take decisive action on the morning of the 6th, the day before the full moons. So many Mirrorbound, likely to be so heavily affected by the lunar cycle this month, many of them coming into new features and abilities at a breakneck pace, only spells danger for the city. They barricade off a massive chunk of Wilde outside Aefenglom, largely free of Cwyld and totally bereft of farms, homes, and Wilder outposts. They invite anyone who feels the effects of the moons too strongly to control to come out for a Hunt. The hunting grounds will be open nightly to anyone who needs to work off restless energy or overflowing magic; all participants will be warned that their safety cannot be guaranteed from others, but they won't be able to harm bystanders out here. The woods are thick, with the river cutting through them, and full of wildlife. There is room to run and chase prey, or room to play with your developing magic. Play cat and mouse with your friends or Bondmates, or stalk a stranger. If playing games isn't your thing, there is something else to hunt out here as well. With the deep Wilde entering into Winter, this patch of land so close to the city is much warmer, and fearsome Shades have emerged to search for prey. These were once living beings, Monsters, Witches, or animals, who have been overtaken by Cwyld infection long ago, leaving them dead but for the infection, white-eyed and seeking out sources of magic to consume and infect. Anything could become a Shade, but the most common out right now are the ferocious remains of bears, wolves, and nomadic Arachne and Turnskins. If not killed, these Shades threaten the people of the Outer City, when they inevitably escape the barricade. Careful to limit your contact, though; anyone infected upon their return to the gates will be escorted straight to the infirmary.

Welcome to May's Fourth Wall event, An Inauspicious Arrival! The comms are now open to comments from all registered users and will be until June 1st. Current players, if you don't want fourth wall characters tagging your posts, just say so in your text. Fourth wall characters can use this post for their own network top-levels, or this post for log top levels. This event is game canon; threads from this fourth wall can be used as application samples later and current players may use these threads for AC. As always, be courteous to each other! Let the mod team know if there are any problems and we will handle things.

As always, please direct your questions to this thread!

Comments

[gynvael]

[ The first thing Geralt does is just stare. He hasn't seen the bard in a awhile. Months. Which isn't unusual for them; they part ways often. They'd just never parted ways on such a sour note and Geralt's not expecting him to be here. Smelling...like that. Like magic. His nostrils flare just a hint, inhaling the scent that's both familiar and yet not. He's forgotten all about the deer that fled into the woods. ]

Jaskier. [ He blinks once, the surprise in his expression closing away. He puts his crossbow down. Unlike him, Jaskier shows no sign of ears or other beastly changes. But he saw that smoke. Smelled the smoldering embers.

Ah, fuck. He came here to blow steam. Clear his head. Not...dredge up the shit he said that he regrets. (If Jaskier's here, what the hell does that mean?) ] I could ask you the same.

[cointosser]

[How annoying that he knows exactly what surprise sounds like, cradling his name. Jaskier's first thought is to make a quick, immediate escape, both from this situation and from his -- witcher, because it seems that's all he is and has ever been, even if he thinks Geralt is a giant fucking idiot for thinking so.

On the other hand, Geralt suddenly has triangular, furred ears on top of his head, and they swivel towards him as he speaks. And speaking, on that note, reveals a feature many have insulted Geralt about -- sharp canines that peek out between words.]

You look -- [Like a monster. But that's not what he means. That's what they are here.] Different. [The word comes out cautiously. Jaskier looks away, a whole swell of heaviness rising in his chest, just the same as months ago.] Well, I had better be going. Now. [He shouldn't say it. But the sadness has turned into bitterness over time.] Before you can blame all of this on me again. I can assure you I didn't push your stubborn, stupid ass through a mirror.

[gynvael]

[ Different is a polite way of putting it. Geralt acknowledges it with a grunt. He knows exactly what he looks like. But that's not on his mind right now when Jaskier is turning away. It's tempting to let him go. Easier. When it comes to relationships, Geralt has never been good at choosing the difficult route of keeping people around.

Something stops him. He sighs. ] Wait.

[ He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried. In general, but also about Jaskier. His changes might not be physical, but he saw that spark of magic. Jaskier's just a human. Whatever this place has done, it's made him different, too. ]

When did you get here?

[cointosser]

[There are only two words that would've had him stop. Jaskier's as bullheaded as a witcher when he wants to be. He's also not a fool. One of those words he knows he'll never fucking hear in his life from Geralt.

Sorry.

But wait is fairly close. He rubs his fingers together rather aggressively, turning back around. At least the tips aren't on fire anymore.

The expression he gives Geralt is level, the edges still a bit bitter.] That's the first thing you say to me? [He sets his hands on his hips. Not surprised at all, despite how fucking bizarre this entire situation is. (He's glad to see a familiar face.)] Half a fortnite. Maybe more. I haven't been exactly been keeping count. Just trying to survive with... [He gestures around them, the hand returning to his hip.] This.

[gynvael]

[ If there's bitterness there, at least it's not an unfamiliar feeling. Geralt doesn't look away, but there's a shift in his gaze that says he'd rather not do this here, right now. There are other, more pressing matters. ]

Same as me. [ Around the same time, then. The mirrors, people spilling forth into a world that changed them immediately. Geralt's used to solving mysteries. Cases, contracts. But he's rarely the subject of one. It doesn't sit right with him. He hasn't lost all of what makes him a witcher, but enough has changed that he feels other. Which for someone like him (something like him) is a hell of an accomplishment.

He hesitates. ] And you're okay?

[cointosser]

Same as -- [Surprise crosses his face, but it quickly beccomes something more neutral -- at least neutral for Jaskier. The same time. Well, they had been the same place, hadn't they? It only made sense. He can't imagine Geralt being stupid enough to fall into that puddle, though. Or small enough to fit with his giant, stupid shoulders.

He steps closer, his curiousity overtaking his annoyance with his friend for the moment. It'd been long enough he'd figured it didn't fucking matter. Geralt was just an idiot. It wasn't his fault, obviously.

Nothing was. Except, maybe, partly, the djinn.

Jaskier sighs, his arms dropping.] I'm fine. [He reached up for one of his ears.] These are real? You're truly the White Wolf now, aren't you?

[gynvael]

[ A look crosses his face; he steps back, sensing Jaskier's reaching hand. His ears twitch. ] Fuck if I know.

[ Underneath the clear irritation, there's something more. What is he? These involuntary changes gnaw at him. He's been remade before. He'd put that behind him decades ago. (He hasn't.) Now he's waking up with something different, another small piece of himself transformed, and it hits too damn close to home.

He puts his crossbow on his back. There's no point in pursuing a hunt with Jaskier here. There's more he wants to say, too, but...

Isn't that how it's always been? A million things unsaid. ]

Careful of the Shades. They're nearby.

[cointosser]

[Despite himself, despite how Geralt has treated him and this stupid fucking situation, a bit of a smile comes to his face. He can't help it. It's not good, what's happened to them. He doesn't want magic, thank you; he's gone through life fine without it. And he can sure as shit bet Geralt doesn't want white ears, tufted with fur, matching his long, white hair.

But they are strangely enchanting.]

They're cute. [He might as well make him feel stupid while he's here; it's about all he's getting back, apparently, since Geralt can't even seem to form an apology. (Yes, he knows now isn't the time, but he's stewed on it for. A while.)]

What the hell is a Shade? [To be fair, Jaskier's been focused on not lighting things on fire accidentally, which is not a worry he's ever had to cradle before.] Is that why you're out here? Hunting them?

[gynvael]

[ Geralt lets out a breath and starts moving through the woods again. He doesn't want any more attention to his ears or his teeth. He knows damn well he's not the only one with these changes, but they're—

A grunt is all Jaskier gets in the end. Truth be told, he was expecting more heated anger. Even from Jaskier, who's hardly one to stew on old grudges. He knows. He knows he'd been shit to him. And Yennefer. Somehow he's fucked it up with Cirilla, too, despite not even having ever met her at all.

It would be easier, he thinks, if Jaskier were angrier with him. ]

No. [ He sniffs the air, listening for any footsteps or twigs snapping. ] I'm not getting paid to hunt them.

[cointosser]

[Ah. Clearly he expects Jaskier to follow, a lost pup, as he has for years. He doesn't move at first, rubbing his fingers into his palms. He can still feel magic there, thrumming like a lute string's vibrations against his skin, but one that does not slow or stop. It's uncomfortable.

A bit like holding in a fart, actually. For quite a long time.

Despite being annoyed with himself for doing exactly what Geralt expects him to do -- a part of him wishes to be petty about it, about losing whatever had kept them together for so long -- he is also not a fool, and does not want to be eaten or torn apart or whatever a Shade, capital S, might do to him. Some sort of spirit? Spirits were always the worst sort of monsters to encounter.

So he follows Geralt, though he does noting to try to hide the noise he makes in the woods.] Right. The witcher who never does anything, for any reason, unless he gets paid for it. How could I forget? [It's far too easy to be petty, honestly.] So what are you doing wandering in the middle of the woods? Perhaps a good old howl at the moon?

[gynvael]

[ There is is. That sting. Geralt has been waiting for it. In a way, it's good to hear. (A part of him doesn't feel like being easily forgiven, or perhaps forgiven at all.) ]

The same reason you are. [ It's not as if Jaskier wouldn't be more at home in a tavern or an inn. Singing his heart away. He knows Jaskier only went through the woods with him for the stories. To make his songs. Which don't seem very relevant here.

Jaskier might be stomping like the fucking beast. But Geralt's quick, even now, and his crossbolt strikes a fleeing rabbit. He walks over to pick it up. ]

Why are you coming with me? [ He can't help but feel something bubble to the surface. His tongue scrapes against the sharp point of a canine. ] I'd have thought you had better company to seek.

[cointosser]

[Jaskier watches him, unimpressed. (At least with his words; the shot with the crossbow is still quite impressive.)] Ah. Yes. It makes absolutely no sense that I would appreciate the company of my friend after having been alone in a strange land for weeks, even if last we spoke we had a bit of a tiff. I am, after all, cold and heartless.

[Oh no, emotions. He was making sure Geralt would not be running away from this conversation until he's said what is on his mind, flickering on and off in the forefront of his mind like a glittering firefly. Now was just as good a time as fucking any.

He does not mention that mere moments ago, Geralt told him to wait the second he'd tried to leave. And now he, apparently, wanted him gone. Well, too bad. He was here now. Geralt had missed his chance.

Jaskier steps in front of him, hands on his hips, ready to grab his arm if he tries to beat a hasty retreat.] Do you like me being cross with you? You're dragging this on... for what? So we can just keep sniping biting comments at each other, while being clearly concerned? [Geralt asked, And you're okay?, and there was no amount of "I'm an emotionless, evil witcher" that could cover up the concern that had been tainting his voice.

Besides, Jaskier knows better. He knows so much better.] I don't want to be mad at you, Geralt. We all make mistakes. We get angry with the wrong people. [The one thing he will not do is admit he deserved it. He didn't. The things Geralt had blamed on him -- none of them were really either their fault. Unfortunate circumstances happened to everyone.] We turn our backs on them. We've been friends for a long, long time, at least where my lifetime is concerned. I don't want it to end.

[gynvael]

[ Jaskier's persistence has always been the most fucking annoying thing about him. Mostly because it works. Geralt does turn to walk away, but Jaskier's hand stops him. He blinks at him, watching. He is concerned. Of course he is; he doesn't want to leave Jaskier here alone in a strange land to fend for himself.

(Truthfully, Geralt is not certain he wants to be alone here, either. But that's neither here nor there. A fleeting thought he pushes aside quickly.)

He shifts his weight, restless. It would be simpler if Jaskier were angry with him. But Jaskier has always stubbornly refused to make things simple. There's a long pause before he exhales. ] I wasn't angry with you. I shouldn't have made you believe I was.

[ His expression says that's all he's willing to say about it for now. Even for him, twenty some-odd years is not a trivial amount of time. It'd been easy to tell himself he needed no one when Jaskier had walked away and he hadn't seen him in the months afterwards. Now that Jaskier is here, looking him in the eye, he finds that slipping out of his grip. ]

[cointosser]

[It's only when Geralt turns to look at him that Jaskier realizes the tightness in his chest comes from him holding his breath. All those pretty words he could say, he wasn't sure if they would change anything. If Geralt would still turn away from him and their journey, both literally and not, would be over together. He could forgive Geralt without hearing it, of course. He's snot one to hold grudges about this sort of thing. It's the idea that Geralt should think it not worth saying to him, even to keep his friendship --

But he speaks. And Jaskier breathes.

How easy it was to say, see, that wasn't so hard, was it? He knew better. For whatever reason, it was hard for Geralt.

Jaskier squeezes his arm, then drops his hand away.] Thank you.

[He certainly makes it harder than, well, anyone on the sphere, but Jaskier has no interest in prolonging this. He can admit he does not want to be alone here, when everything, even his own body, is foreign.] Now, are you all right? I mean, with the changes... I don't know if yours are similar to mine, but they've been a bit terrifying, truth be told.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt watches him, too. His expression is guarded, but he seems to relax a little when Jaskier speaks again. Somewhere deep down, he can admit that the thought that he might have wound up trapped here, perhaps beyond a human's lifetime, without having told Jaskier that he wasn't angry with him doesn't sit well with him.

It doesn't matter. For whatever reason (destiny, they'd say), they've both found themselves taken by this world. ]

They're not. [ Similar, he means. Jaskier has gained magic and seems to have grown no new physical features. Geralt has lost his. He's not even that attached to his signs; it's a learned magic, not inherent the way it is with some mages, and he relies on it little. But its loss is just one more thing that tells him he is something else. Not a witcher anymore. A monster, as defined by this land.

How fucking ironic.

Unconsciously, he licks the sharp points of a canine. They were the first things to have changed in him. ] I'm not what I was. My mutations have been altered.