Intro Log: July

[faileas]

Intro Log: July

I. ARRIVAL 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. A moment later, you feel a tug, and you find yourself stumbling into a dark, musty room. Behind you, a mirror stands ornately decorated with reminders of home wrought in brass and wood: the faces of people you know, and symbols important to you; all things that send a pang through your chest with the desire to return to them. Touching the mirror's surface does nothing but leave the stain of your fingerprints. When you turn to survey the room, you find there are hundreds of other mirrors. None of them are as decorated as yours - they're plain and dusty, speckled with age. Then you realize a second thing: You're not alone. Distantly, the ringing bell of a clocktower can be heard. But no matter its distance, the time is clear to make out: it chimes three times, stark, resonating like a pulse of something in this mirrored hall that you and many others have found yourselves in. For those familiar with magic, they might feel the power of the witching hour upon them, though it will feel different from what they're used to - in fact, everything does. You're certainly not the only ones here, however. On the first floor, with the doors wide open behind them in the foyer, is a small group headed by two individuals. As people begin to arrive, to come from the higher floor, they're waiting - and they're waiting for you, and your questions. Explore the rest of the mirrored halls you've now found yourselves in, or proceed to the foyer? Leaving the Looking-Glass House makes it obvious that the clock striking three was for 3 AM - the night sky is faintly cloudy, but the stars are dim in the face of two moons, even so close to the new moon as it is. The Looking-Glass House is rather nondescript two-story cottage made of grey brick, sitting at the edge of The Coven's courtyard; stones which glow as you step on them mark the path to and from the two buildings. While fairly small and plain on the outside, the inside has been enchanted to be the size of a large library, with hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors hanging, standing, and resting inside its walls. Some are broken, some are cracked, and some seem completely uninjured - but all of them are just as plain as the cottage itself, showing age in the silver beneath their glass and in the greening of their metals... Well, all except a character's personal mirror; to characters, one mirror - the one they came through - will be decorated lavishly with metal-and-wood-wrought reminders of home, and the surface will be as clear as a brand-new mirror.

II. THE WELCOME PARTY Whether you've decided to find a way out of the building you've arrived in, or decided to explore the rest of the Looking-Glass House - and perhaps finding a few familiar faces among the crowd - you feel a pull towards the foyer of the first floor. It's like a firm suggestion, as if to take you by the hand and draw you to where it begins, and the source of it becomes quite apparent upon finding one's way to the front room: a tall, comfortably-dressed older woman and her even taller wolfish companion, along with those which feel to resemble yourselves in a world-traversing sense: Mirrorbound, they're called. "I think this is the most of you there's ever been at once! And all of you properly bound this time, it seems." The woman sets her hands on her hips, with her Bonded casting a glance at those looking confused - newly arrived - and those who may have followed them in to talk to the newest addition of their Mirrorbound bunch. "About time for introductions though- this here's Mhairi Ainsley, ambassador to the Parliament and my Bonded, and I'm Nerissa Bell, Head Witch of the Coven - but you can just call me Miss Nessie, you can," she adds, winking. "The lot of you must be as tired and confused as the last batch - hullo to those who've joined us, too! - so just a moment, dearests, I'll set all you right up—" With nothing more than a wave of her hand, rows of seats are summoned; despite their wooden nature, they're all sturdy and comfortable, filling the foyer and spreading out a ways into the lawn behind them, making room for all of the new arrivals as well as the previous batch. After all, they'll find this just as interesting. The Witches and Monsters that accompanied Nessie and Mhairi move to make room, and some disperse into the building itself to see if there's anyone who needs tending to. Mhairi steps forward as the chairs materialize. "Please, those who are able, join us for a moment. There are many questions that I'm sure you have - we will do our utmost best to answer them, and you may take any that we can't as a promise to find some sort of solution or answer." NOTE: If you wish to handwave interaction with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here. All responses will be summarized answers rather than an IC thread. For those that'd like a more player-based interaction, Aefenglom has its own Welcome Wagon! These are players who've volunteered for the role, and those that didn't sign up may assist as well if they'd feel their character would -- have fun, and make friends. Additionally, those with notable injuries or sickness will be attended to ASAP by Coven-based witches, and should anyone be curious about what they are - if they have magic potential, or if they swing a different way - then this can be done during this and the general hour or so the new arrivals are within the Coven's grounds. There are ongoing classes on magic, monsters, and Bonding as well, though they take place more during the day than at night - feel free to have your characters attend them at any time!

III. THE HAVEN After an hour or two of general chaos, questions that the natives attempt to help with, and injuries tended to for those who arrive in poor condition, it's time to make a trek to where you'll be staying while Nessie and Mhairi continue to search for a solution to the situation. As you're leaving with a few Bonded for guides, peculiar-looking devices - watches, the native Witches explain, compliments of Parliament - are passed around to all the new arrivals; they're given a quick rundown on their functions and bid to test them out when they can. They can even do it as they make their way out of the Coven's courtyard and to the Haven. Formerly part of the Aristocratic District, The Haven is just as well-kept and brightly-lit as the district it hails from. The houses err on the tall and ornamental-side, large enough to fit several families (or, according to the upper class, their one family, several dozen servants, and guests), especially closest to the Aristocratic District. They become a little more modest and smaller as one gets away from the realm of high society and nearer to the Residential District proper. Newcomers are shuffled here and invited to find somewhere to live - the Coven is currently handling expenses for the houses themselves in a program implemented by the Parliament, though if your character wishes to have anything extra - like maids, chefs, and so on - they'll have to pay for them themselves with their own earned money. Much of the landscape and fixtures are the same as in the Aristocratic Districts, though it lacks formal emergency services due to its roots as part of a district that already did. Much of the housing already has furnishing due to the speed at which homeowners were relocated; they were given enough time to collect their valuables, but standard furniture such as kitchenware, couches, beds, etc. were left behind for those moving in. Other houses appear the same, but the dust on the floors suggest these houses were left before the new arrivals even showed up - a reminder that the Cwyld can strike just about anyone, regardless of standing. Another portion of this district has been opened up to the new arrivals: the barracks, the row of buildings pressed against the very edge of the Bright Wall. As the city's military force no longer has the same presence it previously did, the barracks have gone into disuse, and a cleanup effort has been in place since before the new arrivals came through the Looking-Glass House. For those who desire something a little less opulent, the barracks might just be the answer. The barracks can also be used for business, for a welcome center, a communal space, for anything that the residents of the Haven see fit to use it for - so long as the legality isn't questionable, on the surface. To help with filling up the larger houses - and even some of the smaller ones, and the shared rooms in the barracks - the Witches put together a little roommate finding service, on a smaller scale from the grand opening of the Haven. For those who aren't entirely sure who they want to shack up with, they have a small survey for them to fill out and post on the board they've magicked up in the center of The Haven. The board also very helpfully reads aloud each form for everyone to hear in a cheerful, monotone voice. It isn't able to be shut up, nor is it easy to ignore, being imbued with a kind of amplification magic. It reads simply the information you've offered up yourself, or that someone might have written up for you, should that be their idea of fun.

IV. THE CIRQUE MYSTIQUE (3rd-5th) It drifts into the Bright Bay early in the morning of the 2nd - a painted ship, garishly bright, with billowing night-sky sails that sends the Harbor District, and then most of the rest of the city, into a flurry of interested activity, putting the rumor mill into overdrive. Onlookers can witness a mess of equally ostentatious people - Witches dressed in brightly colored clothing, Monsters with fantastical coloring and embellishments the likes of which are rarely seen on Geardagas - deboarding with supplies. (Just a few curiously are what seem to be fox-like Monsters with multiple tails and mischievous expressions - they're also the least likely to want to bother talking.) Parliament offers the use of a little-visited park, temporarily enchanted to be somehow bigger than it should be, and the new people work quite quickly, setting up decorated pavilions and stands in a style quite different from Aefenglom's usual, utilizing many paper decorations and fluttering fabrics. Those who try to talk to the workers are often rebuffed - they're quite busy, don't you see? Despite being foreign, they speak in the common tongue of Geardagas with different degrees of fluency and accents. Many will pretend they don't speak the common tongue at all if they don't want to talk, however. They finish within the day. Enchanted fliers go out overnight proclaiming "The Cirque Mystique is Open!" Explained to be a traveling circus from a land far away (the name of said land not offered to "preserve the mystique") they proclaim to offer a unique experience to the people of Aefenglom. a. Come On Down All throughout the days, a mini marketplace is open, selling goods and foods from another land. Unlike the more western Victorian-style fare in Aefenglom, the treats boast new flavors and textures. Elaborate little cakes made with exotic fruits and teas, egg tarts, cold shaved ices with floral or fruit syrups, dumplings and mochi can all be found along with savory foods with new flavor profiles, and exciting new alcoholic drinks. The styles of clothing offered are more elaborate and made with fine embroidered fabrics; the cloth is available on bolts as well. Trinkets such as small enchanted figures of the performers, cheap jewelry, and souvenirs are available at every stand for likely inflated prices. Other stands run enchanted carnival games: ring-toss (where you always seem to miss), guess the number of candies in the jar (you're always wrong), a wheel of prizes (that always seems to land on the duds), bobbing for fruits (this one seems fine, but the prize for winning is the fruit that's already been in your mouth), and a game to knock over milk bottles (which seem firmly planted). Well, you know what they say about carnival games, right? It's fun to try, at least! Or maybe you quietly break their enchantments in order to win the toys and cheap jewelry they offer as prizes. Those running the games will grumble and grouse, but you'll get your due. The main draw, however, is the performances. Smaller ones happen periodically all day, in small staging areas around the newly set-up fairgrounds: knife-throwers, fire-eaters, tight-rope walkers, magicians, acrobats and contortionists displaying feats of strength and flexibility, jovial Monsters with painted faces telling jokes. The Cirque Mystique has it all. The most elaborate, put-together performances happen after the sun sets, though, an astonishing display with all of the above and music, woven through with storytelling and fireworks, and even more flashy magic. It's hard not to feel awed by it all at the end... b. The Lunar Eclipse The major performance on the night of the 5th coincides with the lunar eclipse, when the Sisters darken in the sky above. It goes as the other performances do. It's flashy and elaborate, inspiring plenty of awe. The Diviner Witches' predictions apparently come to pass, however, and the light enchantment placed over the audience at end of the performance to subtly better their moods and perception of the show reacts... unexpectedly to the surge in magic. All around the city, natives and Mirrorbound alike might find themselves feeling... good. Uninhibited. Brain-to-mouth filters fail and loosen lips, or they may find their fingers stickier, feeling inclined to simply take whatever items or foods please them at the time. It doesn't necessarily cause violent thoughts, but if a person is so inclined already, it isn't out of the realm of possibility. The backfired spell simply makes one seek whatever delights they might desire, even if they haven't admitted those desires to themselves. It's quite possible to resist the spell still, and many do, just not enough - no doubt there will be some joyous chaos to contend with as excitement and revelry spread through the streets. Luckily it wears off by sunrise, or before in some cases, probably leaving many embarrassed about their uninhibited behavior. After the night of the eclipse, the Cirque packs up with practiced efficiency, and by the afternoon on the 6th, their ship has departed, heading on to their next location, leaving most of Parliament quite irritated at having to clean up after the mishap. A traveling circus like this, sailors from the Harbor District explain, never stays long. They stay as long as the cash flows and then they head on to the next city or the next continent. The rogues conveniently timed their departure to miss any potential fines from Parliament.

Welcome to the intro log! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs; take the prompts offered and go wild, go crazy, go stupid, have fun. The network system is free to use once characters have their watches as well; information on that can be found at the bottom of the Setting page, while any extra questions about it can be found in the FAQ index. Quests can be picked up now as well! While new characters will have to get settled in, you can go ahead and put your name on some by replying to the July's Quest Pickup thread on the Quest Board. Finally, if your character is getting into any Shenanigans, let the mods know and if you have any questions about the log, ask them here!

Comments

[slushfund]

Keh, that figures, don't it?

(fear was fleeting, but anger? it's sticking around, even if hiruma's mastered the art of looking calm. every entrance is an exit, that's why he didn't lay a hand on his mirror—yet. who can say how he'll feel about that in six months? a year's time?

it's useful to know.)

So, they can tell that we're tethered and the temps weren't? Wouldn't whatever voodoo sorcery bullshit they used to figure that out be connected in some way to the mirrors? Otherwise, how would they be able to say that confidently?

[mensrea]

[ Gaze sharpening with a keen, hungry interest at how quickly this newcomer has processed information, he offers Hiruma another nod, this one slower and far more scrutinizing. ]

Right. But they claim they have no idea how the mirrors work, where they came from, or how to send us back. Honestly? It’s all happy horseshit. Either they’re just waiting for us to screw off permanently while doing nothing to actually further the effort or…they’re keeping us here for a reason.

[slushfund]

("happy horseshit" sounds just right for the occasion, and so does a smirk now that it's obvious what this guy's opinions are going to revolve around: distrust of the coven, which is exactly what he was looking for. the skeptics are always the better-informed.

chokes up on his rifle, cocks a hip, and bites down on his wad of gum.)

I'd assume we were being used as tools for their higher purpose... I mean, that's what I'd do. But if they're strong enough to bring us here then surely they don't need the help of a bunch of idiot foreigners.

[mensrea]

Maybe they don’t want our help. Just our participation.

[ Stiles eyes the gun, uncomfortable in its presence, then jerks his head to the side in an indication they should move away from the Looking-Glass House. ]

I’ve got theories, if you wanna hear them. But not here. You feel up for a walk around the Haven, or do you need food?

[slushfund]

Not hungry. (too sick, too skeptical, too unwilling to be indebted to someone, even if he's never cared about it before.

it feels different here. the stakes feel higher. hiruma does, however, agree that leaving this place would be for the best and turns with a suddenness that brings them shoulder to shoulder in a harmless knock. ever hostile, always bristly.)

For food, anyway... you said you'd feed me your opinions, so I expect them. "Want" isn't the right word for it. ("need," on the other hand... he treats people in the doorway similarly, pushing through them with a raise of his hand, refusing to listen to the remarks both he and his acquaintance are subjected to.) I see that you're pretty far along in your fucked up transformation, there.

[mensrea]

[ The shoulder check is weathered with far more patience than Stiles typically has for non-friends encroaching upon his personal space – he’s new, give him a break, he reminds himself tersely. Following in the wake of the other young man, disregarding the nasty looks they’re given, his patience comes to an abrupt end the moment his Monster transformation is dragged into the light. Expression cold, he chooses to say nothing until they’re outside the Looking-Glass House. The walk provides him enough time to clear his head before he can shoot off his mouth, though he remains on edge; Stiles may have come to terms with being an Arachne, but it’s still a sore subject for him, especially when under the uncaring scrutiny of a stranger. ]

Imagine that. Someone here for six months being “pretty far along,” [ he replies snidely, making a conscious effort not to fold his arms across his chest in an attempt to hide the exoskeleton. ] Thanks, Captain Obvious. How about we return to the topic that’s actually useful?

[ Hiruma is given no opportunity to comment. Stiles barrels along. ]

Did they explain the Cwyld?

[slushfund]

(the deprecating look stiles is aiming at him only makes hiruma feel that much more at home, practically basking in the dry response that follows. opportunities to comment exist regardless of how desperate his pal is for a topic change, and unfortunately he's not the tactful type of asshole.)

What, chatting you up about something integral to this place isn't useful? Tsk. (less a chiding sound than a suck at a sharp canine, almost clinical in his proceedings as a pinky finger is raised to pick at a gap. will they get sharper? will his saliva become slick with anticoagulant?) I beg to differ. If you've been here six months, that alone tells me many things I should know.

Did you just manage to sprout all that, or have you had it for some time? How long till you've been completely altered? What steps are there to take before and after those stages? ... do you see?

[mensrea]

Greedy, aren’t you.

[ It isn’t a question. As if you’re not just as nosy. Vaguely annoyed at himself for the comparison, he takes a moment to check his comm watch – no new messages, Jonas is still asleep after all – before returning his attention reluctantly to Hiruma. He blows out a sigh, expelling the lingering animosity that the comment about his “fucked up” transformation elicited. This isn’t the time to be so sensitive. Don’t take it personally, Stilinski. ]

First, you say you expect my opinions. Now you’re asking for personal facts too? [ Pain flares briefly in his shoulder blades, an unpleasant indicator of what he should expect after this month’s full moon. ] And all without even introducing yourself. Christ, dude. I’d tell you to at least invite me out for coffee first, if I drank any.

[slushfund]

Hate to break it to you, but all sentient life in the fucking universe is greedy. That's the whole point. (strapping back the m4 with a hike of his shoulder to free up both hands, hiruma flips one to gesture out a small shrug.) I never said I wouldn't ask for personal facts, so quit trying to move the goal posts.

If that's the way you wanna' play together, though, I could counter with the fact that you said you'd answer my questions. Didn't know I'd have to go on a date to get 'em. (stiles may take his time getting back to him with a huff and a haw, busying himself with his phone, but the bleach blond's attentiveness never wanes. eyes shift between two points: the side of the arachne's face, and the path ahead.)

My name's Hiruma and I know about the Cwyld—not much, mind you, as they seemed disappointed having to speak about it. That said, while it's enough for me to go on, now it's your turn: talk, or walk off.

[mensrea]

[ This guy… Stiles scoffs. Sure, he might look rough – it takes a concerted effort not to comment on the pointed teeth – but he’s quick-witted and sharp. A combination that makes him a total pain in the ass to deal with. Still, Stiles finds himself begrudgingly appreciative, even if he’s sorely tempted to walk off. Hiruma isn’t the only pain in the ass, after all. But instead of leaving, Stiles decides to provide what intel he can – or rather, what intel he wants. The finer details of his transformation don’t need to be disclosed to a stranger. Fuck that noise. ]

You’d be amazed how far a “please” and “thank you” will get you. That said, I guess we’ll rain check the date. And you can call me Stiles.

[ Amazingly, no matter how often he repeats that phrase, no one’s called him out on it yet. People are so willing to believe it’s his real name. ]

Okay, so. You brought up the idea that we’re here to help. Sometimes, I wonder if we aren’t more like test subjects for the Coven to observe. How we interact with the Cwyld, or maybe how we wrestle with control on full and new moons.

[slushfund]

(he will never call him that, redux. he does, however, pop a gum bubble in response, as well as tack on a:)

"You catch more flies with honey," not whatever you are. In any case, why would they experiment on us to figure all that out when the moons affect the natives—which I assume it does, considering the fact that that Witch doing our orientation had a bipedal wolf for a sidekick—as well as the Mirrorbound? Same with that plague... so, I don't believe it.

(so soon, a theory's discounted. not trashed, not entirely, just flagged in an chaotically organized mind as "unlikely". their walk takes them to the square where newcomers and city folk are mingling, but hiruma focuses on the architecture of the buildings ahead. it's the strangest sight yet.)

Having something negative's better than having shit all, but what of my other questions? There been any progress made in getting us outta' here? Some kinda' task force put together? Organized meetings?

[mensrea]

Because we’re expendable. The natives aren’t affected like we are, anyway. Loss of control is way more significant among Mirrorbound.

[ Even if he’s not married to the theory, Stiles feels the need to defend it adequately enough. Why bother bringing it up, otherwise? More importantly, he can’t focus on the continuous little jabs about his Monster species without losing his cool. The Bond may have tempered the worst of his rage, but it still rises to the surface far too quickly over sensitive topics. ]

No progress. [ A finger is ticked off. ] No task force. [ A second finger. ] No real organized meetings [ Pauses on the third. ] …Unless you’re interested in the Council.

[ His tone of voice should be telling enough; Stiles does not think highly of the Council. ]

Long story short. There’s a Parliament here. Natives offered three open seats to the Mirrorbound. Mirrorbound decided to form the Council to fill those seats on a rotating cadence. The Council gets together to propose motions, agree on motions, and then bring those motions to Parliament. Sounds good, right? Wrong. [ Brown eyes turn hard and flinty. ] Not only have they only ever reached out to the general Mirrorbound population once to talk about their existence, they’ve barely gotten anything to pass. One of the stupid motions they prioritized was legalizing theatre. And I only know any of this shit from investigating on my own. They seriously don’t tell anyone jack shit.

( ooc | Disclaimer: Stiles' opinions are not my own! He's a bitter, mistrustful teen. )

[slushfund]

We've just introduced magic and whatever the fuck else into our bodies, of course loss of control's significant. (something hiruma knows a few things about, clear in what he says next, obviously used to explaining it to people who either don't understand or refuse to:) Being born with natural talent's too different from gaining the skills through hard work later in life.

In our case, it's this place's magic. We're probably screaming newborns to them.

(it's good, this back-and-forth. it's making him think of the angles, about why something isn't plausible, countering with negative comments in order to unearth more information that could use to prove himself wrong.

stiles, was it?)

Hey. If this Council's as shitty as you make it sound, why haven't you done anything about it?

[mensrea]

What makes you think I haven’t? [ he retorts, a challenging cock to his eyebrow. Without waiting for a response, he answers regardless. ] I’ve talked to certain people about it, actually. But politics? Not my thing. Been busy chasing other wild geese as it is.

[ Like Créia, which he will not be mentioning to a newcomer just yet. Not even one as potentially promising as Hiruma. That kind of information is on a need-to-know basis. ]

Anyway, I’m not seeing your point about us being screaming newborns. Still makes us valuable subjects to study and throw against the plague. It’s almost weird, [ the word is dripping with sarcasm, ] how many problems the Mirrorbound have fixed since arriving in this place. Sometimes I wonder how the hell any of the natives managed without us.

[slushfund]

(hiruma laughs a loud laugh, sudden, obnoxious, and grating.) You– you're exactly the type who should be involved in it, 'cause it's always the ones bitching the most who turn out to make the most effective politicians. (that's how it is back on earth, even if half of those dullards are just hollering ignorantly about things they don't have the education to understand. but he's digressing.)

To fresh ears, it sounds like this problem's been around for a long damn time. That lady and her furry pet mentioned having stopped the spread into the city with a wall. So they build that, get complacent, stop trying... I can see the introduction of foreigners kicking up the fucking dander and finding problems underneath it all.

Just think of it this way: (holds his hands out in front of him, gesturing out a space between his palms.) You've got a calm home life, there are problems but none have bothered you lately, and then your mommy or daddy—much to everyone's dismay—brings a new plaything back home.

That's gonna' dredge up an awful lot of bad memories and new issues to solve, ain't it?

[mensrea]

[ That laugh. Wincing at the assault on his ears at such close proximity, Stiles eyes Hiruma out of the corner of the eye like he suspects he’s walking alongside a hyena Turnskin seconds from going feral. The idea that he should be on the Mirrorbound Council earns the other teen a wrinkled nose of distaste, because Stiles has literally zero intentions of getting involved more than he already has. It does call back to the conversation he recently had with a friend last month, however; more and more people insisting that he use his voice to make a change. He refuses to wallow on how little change he’s ever been able to enact in his lifetime, so Hiruma’s comment goes without a response. ]

I guess.

[ Sympathy has never been his strong suit; Stiles doesn’t like viewing the playing field from the perspective of the natives. In some ways, they aren’t even real people to him. ]

Since you’re bringing up “mommy or daddy,” I should probably mention that sometimes it’s two mommys or two daddys in a world like this. Not sure how it is for you back home – [ Obviously, Hiruma is from some fantasy elf land and not Earth. ] – but it’s something to keep in mind here. Bonds encourage all kinds of relationships in Aefenglom. And you should seriously prioritize finding a partner as soon as you can, dude.

[slushfund]

...

(one eye narrows in a squint, a skeptical look aimed across his shoulder.)

Are you trying to tell me gay people exist right now? (climbing out of a mirror into a magical victorian land filled with monsters and a highly contagious, fatal disease is whack enough without someone instructing him on same-sex relationships—astonishingly, his day gets weirder by the second.

who'd've thought?)

Bonds aren't my first priority; I'll get one when it suits me. Thanks for the warning, though. You've got one by now, I imagine?

[mensrea]

[ With a longsuffering roll of his eyes, he waves off that narrowed look. ]

Listen, you seem like you could have walked straight off the set of a Lord of the Rings movie, okay? I’m just laying the foundation for what’s normal here.

[ He shoves his hands in his pant pockets, shrugging broad shoulders. ]

Just don’t let months pass by without a Bond. You’ll regret it. [ His tone suggests he knows this intimately. ] And yeah, I’ve got one. Paid for waiting too long, so don't be like me.

[slushfund]

Do I look like Orlando Bloom to you? Now I see why this conversation came up. (a deep lean into his personal space, flashing a set of pointy teeth.) I'm from Earth, or didn't you notice the M4 and the not-fucking-medieval way I dress?

(don't be like that, baby!!!)

Don't concern yourself with others so much, or you'll roll your eyes right out of their sockets. (some helpful advice, before launching into another probing question.) Why'd you wait? Was it the an "I'd really rather not have some other idiot poking around in my head," thing?

[mensrea]

[ An equally deep, spine-bending lean away from those teeth, though it has less to do with fear and more to do with a general dislike of having strangers breach his personal space. After he’s reinstated a healthy distance between them, he makes a point of giving Hiruma a critical onceover. ]

Everyone comes from different versions of Earth. Just because you dress modernly and carry an assault rifle doesn’t necessarily mean you’re familiar with gay relationships. [ Beginning to cotton on to how this conversation might be coming across. ] Which, for the record, I’m not bringing up out of interest. Taken, as a FYI.

[ Put a ring on it, Jonas. ]

About Bonding… Gonna pretend I have no idea what you mean by “other” idiot. But it was more complicated than that. [ A pause as he debates how much to tell Hiruma, before he continues, ] I’m not used to puzzles I can’t work my way out of. Figured I’d be back home before I needed a Bond. I was wrong.

[slushfund]

(green eyes crease mirthfully at the retreat, straightening with another snap of gum.) Trust me—you're not my type. (but he gets it, the lot of them just pieces arranged on a board.

there must be some combination of moves they can make that'll get them out of here.

eyes on the street ahead, flicking this way and that to take in his surroundings, hiruma suddenly steps off of the main stretch into the grass. the stretch of river gives him pause and his head turns to look past his shoulder, back towards the looking-glass house and the bright wall that looms behind it.)

What of the Cwyld? The things past that? What's the worst thing you've seen in this place?

[mensrea]

[ The last person who told Stiles that he wasn’t his type later became one of his closest friends and was recently proposed to him as a potential three-way romantic partner. Hiruma earns himself a doubtful look, because even if Stiles doesn’t consider himself particularly attractive in any sense, he can’t help but hear his father’s voice in his ear: once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. Before his brain can run off with this idea and make a mental crime board on it (with tacky red string linking him from Jonas to Sasuke to everyone else in this goddamn city), Stiles hurriedly moves the conversation along. ]

We still don’t know the origins of the Cwyld, which is a problem when we’re trying to wipe the disease out. I’ve spent a lot of my time helping to cleanse certain areas of the Wilde, hoping we’ll get more information. [ As for the worst thing he’s seen… ] Things haven’t been too nasty yet. Fought a massive Níðhöggr-like snake. Encountered ghosts who died with so much fear, rage, and grief they passed those emotions on to anyone they touched. Nearly became the underaged boy-toy of a feral Arachne queen in the Wilde. That was fun. (Not.)

[ He slows a little, checking his watch – but there’s a real purpose to it this time, as he quickly locates text message notes he’s sent to himself from the second, stolen comm watch. ]

Situation was bad before my group got here, [ he admits. ] Long story short, an entire family of nobles was executed for their crimes against Monsters and Mirrorbound. Sounds like people were being tortured and experimented on.

[slushfund]

Snakes, ghosts, and spiders, oh my.

(hiruma's throwaway joke hangs in the air as he contemplates what's been said, mind split. one half lingers on stiles' explanation while the other's still caught on: "what's a wall gonna' fucking do?" do cwyldtid burn up on contact? and what of the river, how could it flow without dragging all the scum and evil in with its current?

magic, both sides supply. bullshit wonderland magic and sheer optimism.

sick to death, he whips around and stalks off again after stiles.) Good to know this place has capital punishment. That's a pretty traditional way of getting rid of people who should be kept alive to parade around as examples for anyone else getting funny ideas... (although that's a hot topic to debate anywhere, let alone in a place that still looks trapped in the 1900s.)

Did they happen to squeeze any info from 'em before they offed 'em?

[mensrea]

[ His own opinions on capital punishment are complicated – torn between the viewpoint that he knows the Sheriff would expect him to uphold going into law enforcement versus the violent feelings he harbors toward anyone threatening his loved ones. When all is said and done, he privately agrees with how the Coven chose to handle things, even if he was too chickenshit to watch the executions in person. ]

The natives were already too sympathetic toward the defendants, [ he argues in low undertones, careful his voice doesn’t carry. ] You parade people like that around, you’re just making them martyrs to be saved. It’s better they’re gone for good.

[ Stiles remembers, too clearly, the agitated whispers of the crowd as he observed the trial. It had left an unpleasant impact on him, hearing the natives liken the Mirrorbound to aggressive animals only three days into his stay in Aefenglom. ]

A bunch of aristocrats helped the Rathmore family kidnap Mirrorbound under the assumption that the Coven knew how to send us home, but wasn’t doing so for whatever reason. The Coven claims that was a lie. For the most part, I believe them. The Coven, I mean. Those aristocrats were sentenced to prison and hard labor.

[slushfund]

(where is this guy from? not europe, but surely somewhere in north america?) You should know, being from Earth, how opposing sides are just waiting for the first chance to rally against one another. Martyr or not, if they pitch fits then they were fits bound to happen eventually.

It'd certainly weed out the dissenters, or the idiots who think one life's more valuable than the other.

(as fiendish as hiruma is, that's one belief of his that never changes. sure, one life can have more potential than another, but they're all the same in the end. skin, nerves, and bone. doesn't fucking matter if one's affluent and succesful, and one's poor and lacking opportunity. what matters is their individual goals.

the rathmore goal seemed to be the crushing of others, which proved—in the bitter end—to be a bootless task. and the sad fate of their cronies brings a wicked smile to hiruma's face.)

Kekeke, what a bea-utiful example of throwing your lot in with the losing team. It's nice to hear karma exists here, too... or something like it. Vengeful spite of scorned Monsters, maybe. Did you want them to die alongside the ones holding their leashes?