(open | november log)

[fulgency]

Who: Ozymandias + you (some closed starters as well)
When: Noveuer
Where: Aefenglom (Residential, Aristocratic, and Entertainment Districts), Mhysadei (farmland beyond the Wall), & the Wilde
What: Ozymandias starts surveying and problem-solving for the issues of overcrowding in the Residential District, suffers tea time with old rich women, and tries to do his best taking care of a farm that was left behind. He also has some private 1:1 chats with some folks.
Warnings: Animal death (via hunting) with the Wilde prompt; will update as needed

residential district | aristocratic district | entertainment district (closed) | mhysadei + the wilde
((ooc: feel free to riff off any of the open prompts if you would like. if you need/want to run something by me before you do that, you can either pm this journal or shoot me a message on plurk [rebreather]. same goes with if you would like to have a private starter!))

Comments

residential district;

[fulgency]

(open)

Excuse me. Would you mind settling a debate?

[Up until this point, Ozymandias has been going back and forth with the Naga he brought along with him. It's possible that snippets of their spirited debate traveled far enough that the impending question to settle the debate is probably fairly clear: would you want to live here? Where Ozymandias sees potential, his companion is more doubtful. She thinks the likelihood of anyone with other options would ever consider living so close to the Harbor District. Even with a nicer building to call home than the one that currently occupies the space. Fortunately, the intensity of their debate merely seems to be an affectation of two very loud individuals and not a consequence of mood as neither seems to be more than mildly exasperated that the other cannot be convinced to see it their way.]

[It shouldn't prove too dangerous to weigh in, although the Naga behind Ozymandias wears and amused and certain smile that she's about to be proven completely correct.]

(closed to council members)

Here's another.

[Ozymandias speaks loudly, over the sound of the rain. Most would probably think it insane to be standing outside right now while the rains are beginning to pick up again, but if Ozymandias makes the decision to wait on this, then it will not be until the spring at the earliest. They need to start getting a sense of which lots may be the most...enticing to Parliament to renovate.]

[The "another" that Ozymandias is referring to is yet another lot that is not being put to any use. It's unknown if the building belongs to anyone or not, but the light emanating from one of the windows is far, far more likely that of a squatter than the owner. The building itself seems to be in shambles and cannot be providing much by way of warmth or even dry shelter, having caught fire during the summer under the assault of the pixies that tore through the city.]

That's the fifth one on this block alone and I haven't a clue yet what it is we shall do with those who have been squatting in these homes.

(closed to edelgard)

My apologies for my tardiness. This weather is...

[Ozymandias does not bother filling in an adjective for it, his gaze moving in the direction of the rain beating against the window. What had started off a steady drizzle has now built itself into frenzied sheets and thrown the city into darkness. He managed to just beat the worst of the rain, and most of his person is blessedly still dry. Though his pantlegs and shoes bear some of the burdens of quickly making one's way over uneven coblestone. He'll probably fuss over the mud later, but for now he hardly cares. He's just glad to be inside where it's warmer and much dryer on the whole.]

[The waitstaff pulls Ozymandias' chair out for him, pushing it in as he takes his seat.]

I hope you were not waiting for long. I know it is a bit past when you would normally prefer to retire for the day.

[He turns briefly to the waiter, declining the menu, and provides his order. He passes on the food this time, but orders himself a hot chocolate. He can't bring himself to drink tea today. He's had more than enough tea to last him a lifetime as of late.]

aristocratic district;

[fulgency]

(open)

[Ozymandias nudges his companion beside him gently with an elbow. Laughing amicably at the joke that was told as though it was the first time he's heard it today, his eyes are still trained on the older women at the table. But beneath the table, what he's passing over to the person beside him is a small flask. He's attended enough of these little tea parties at this point to know what's needed to get through the repetitious and yet endless cycle of gossip and polite smear campaigns against the women who couldn't attend today.]

I think there is something we all enjoy about a forbidden love though, don't you think, Adelaine?

[He keeps the attention away so that one might pour a bit of rum into their tea while everyone is focused on Adelaine's response.]

[When not providing a way of coping with the gossip, he does at least provide advice, too, at the beginning or when there's a reshuffling of tables to avoid an entirely unpleasant experience.]

I wouldn't sit there.

[Maybe it's because that's Caryn seat and sitting there will invite a 20-minute long passive-aggressive tirade about the seat until it spurns her fellow ladies to ask you to move only for her to "not really" want the spot. Or maybe Ora will be sitting nearby and no amount of perfumes in the world can mask a life-long habit of smoking. Or you may find yourself subjected to Sabine if you choose to sit there. Maybe not such a big deal for a Witch, but a Monster may find themselves losing patience with her comments. Either way, he provides a quiet explanation and motions for you to find somewhere else.]

(closed to chariot + croix)

Thank the gods you're here.

[Ramesses presses a kiss to Chariot's cheek, keeping his voice low. She barely managed to step through the door before he politely excused himself from his table to help her get settled. Ramesses helps her out of her coat, passing it off to the nearby servant who takes it to hang it up with the others. Taking Chariot's hands into his, he warms them gently with a small spell to start taking the chill from outside out of her. Keeping his voice quiet, he continues,]

Adelaine has told me the story of her friend's granddaughter and her infatuation with a Turnskin that works down at the docks at least three times now while Lucilla keeps "accidentally" moving her foot into my leg under the table. And if I'm not mistaken, she keeps trying to aim higher.

[Put Ramesses in a room full of bureaucrats and statesmen, he shines. Stick him with a bunch of very bored, old, rich women who want to gossip more than they wish to discuss business, and he starts to get a little antsy. Hence why he could not get to her fast enough. Although he did well in making his urgency seem more due to seeing a lover (much to Lucilla's chagrin) rather than a desperate want of escaping the conversation. No doubt the old women are now filling the void with a discussion of Chariot.]

[But he takes a breath. Chariot is here, and he won't have to tolerate this by himself any longer. Even if she's not the most eloquent in these kinds of situations, just having the camaraderie is enough for Ramesses to feel he can be more centered and remain charming as he hears another line about how one of these women lamenting how they wish there was more they could do than merely provide the funds all the while everyone at the table knowing they won't lift a finger beyond that. He smiles, chuckling warmly as he brings her hands up to kiss her fingertips.]

So, it's going wonderful so far.

[Releasing one of her hands, Ramesses adjust his hold on her remaining hand to bring her further into the estate to meet with the women holding the purse strings. It's then that he notices someone else just behind Chariot, standing close enough to imply that they came together. He looks from her to Chariot, and then back again. He's curious more than anything.]

Who is this, my love?

entertainment district (closed);

[fulgency]

(closed to gilgamesh)

[In their lifetimes, it would be somewhat unheard of for two men of their standing to come together like this. It would more likely that intermediaries would speak on their behalf to the other, relaying various expressions of genuine respect or perhaps even backhanded compliments. But it has been so very long since that time, and it really is not the most effective means for either one of them to communicate. And so, all it took was the King of Heroes making the request for some of the King of Kings' time to explain what it is he has missed in his time away from a political perspective. Normally such discussions should perhaps take place over a fine meal and even better wine, but if they were to abandon other trappings of formality, they might as well do away with the whole of it.]

[And so, they are seated amongst the pillows, each with a kitten or two occupying some part of their body.]

I was surprised they were so supportive of the garden. Much of the aristocracy of this city have their own private gardens and what they cannot provide for themselves, they receive from the outlying farms or purchasing through the markets. So, they've little need for a communal space.

But I believe some perceive themselves as charitable and are willing to act with whatever minimal amount of generosity is required to maintain such a perception.

[He pauses a moment there to allow the King of Heroes to mull over his words and take a sip of his coffee, which he has been balancing on a raised, bent knee with his free hand. The other pets the kitten that's decided to occupy the c circle of his folded leg and sleep soundly, exhausted from its earlier play.]

(closed to sylvia)

How are you, Sylvia?

[Ozymandias recognizes that the question is likely a loaded one for a number of reasons. For one, he is her boss and any question he asks seems to come with a certain degree of implicit pressure to her. For another, it is his understanding that one of the recent losses among the Mirrorbound employees was known to her. (Ozymandias never quite sussed out how they knew each other, of course, finding it to be hardly a concern of his, but he at least noticed their familiarity with each other.) So, he does not anticipate an easy or quick answer from her even with a small lull between rushes. It still seems important for him to ask, however, and that is precisely what has him leaning on the opposite side of the counter from her to ask.]

mhysadei + the wilde;

[fulgency]

(working on the farm)

[After the shock of her sheep being slaughtered, Edre's health began to fail. Daenerys tended to the old woman, making sure her basic needs were cared for, and her livestock could find better protection during the full moons. While her strength returned, those who had previously received some shelter from Edre, refugees from Dorchacht, agreed to assist in keeping the farm running while she recovered. When Daenerys and Jorah left this world, presumably for their own, Edre's health took another dip, not so much from a lack of care as it was grief. It's been slow-going for her to recover from that loss, and there are times and days when it seems uncertain if she should ever return to her full strength again.]

[Ozymandias cannot be out there as often he thinks he probably should. Most of his responsibilities, after all, are tied up within the city. But when he is able, he ventures out beyond the Wall to Mhysadei. And he never apologizes for the lengths of his absences or the unpredictability with which he visits her less because of his usual royal entitlement and knowing that Edre would never accept them. It's only at night when he sits with her and she "convinces" him to allow her a bit of wine that they ever stop to reminiscence and regret the loss of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.]

[The rest of the time, she carries on as if nothing is amiss, barking orders to him as though he were nothing more than a farmhand and seems keen on attempting to run him ragged. Ozymandias does not seem to mind it much though, allowing her to also continue the ruse that she supposedly thinks him a Puca rather than Witch because of his golden eyes.]

[Ozymandias takes the lead from one of the horses, leading it over to its stall. There had been a break in the weather, and the horses had been set to graze. But one of the showers began to build and there was a distant rumble. That was all it took to start quickly getting all the livestock that needed to be indoors in.]

There should be one more. Are you certain the field is empty?

(hunting)

[As much as the farm has recovered, there is still a need to find food elsewhere. The livestock does not, unfortunately, turn over so much product nor profit for things to be easily sustainable. And so, Ozymandias borrows one of Edre's horses to cover more ground in the Wilde. As the terrain shifts from the cold, damp air of Noveuer into the warming spring of the Wilde, he's careful to attend his surroundings.]

[It's possible that you were after the same prey. Something small like a rabbit or one of the smaller fowl. You might have been about to pounce or take your shot, but suddenly there is a blue and gold blur quickly leaping upon its intended target. The struggle is brief, the cub clearly demonstrating training and practice. Nothing about the attack is brutal so much as immediately efficient. With the animal in its maw dead, the sphinx races off toward its master to add it to the collection of smaller quarry currently tied to the horse's saddle.]

[Or, despite Ozymandias' best efforts to keep his attention on his surroundings, he doesn't notice someone else approaching while he is inspecting the young buck he tracked. It had been the weaker of the two that had scuffled briefly over territory and retreated from the much larger victor. From a distance, the beast seemed healthy, but Ozymandias would rather not wait until after he's hauled it back to discover that it had actually been infected. So now he's crouched close to the kill, not really paying all that particular mind to his surrounds.]

Ozy's place, sometime after mirror items

[belligerentwarrior]

[The fierce plummet in temperature and torrential rains have driven Fang to a rare sighting of her in actual clothes; running warmer as a Turnskin and growing up as a desert creature just makes the cold that much sharper, and she enters shaking the water from a thick cloak, clad in a beaten Wilder's leather jacket and a long skirt.]

You got another one, huh? [She calls from the atrium, finding a hook for her cloak.]

Purramid Cafe, late month

[bloodypath]

[An individual like Hubert von Vestra did not seem like he belonged in a place like Purramid Cafe. Tall, grave, gaunt, and always sternly dressed like he were attending a funeral (or planning someone else's...), the cats and pleasant décor and pastries seemed like an utterly ill fit for him.]

[And yet, he quietly visited the little shop with some frequency, always ordering a black coffee with nothing to eat and sitting outside away from the kittens, and on occasion, escorted the young Leslie to or from her work, when he wasn't shadowing Edelgard through various activities. Despite his severe demeanor, he was always perfectly polite, if not warm.]

[Which marked today as different. As statuesquely stoic as Hubert tended to be, there was something... particularly dour about him, even by the mage's typical standards. A sharper furrow of his brow, a sunkenness to his eyes, a harsh set to his mouth in place of the usual strictly-polite smile.]

[He waits patiently to the side of the counter, hands folded behind his back and a waterproof folio clutched in his fingers and droplets of rain drying on his cloak, until Ozymandias was finished with the present customers.]

Pharaoh Ozymandias. If I might have a minute of your time.