Intro Log: November & Event: Nothing to Be Drone About It

[faileas]

Intro Log: November & Event: Nothing to Be Drone About It

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 others have found yourselves in, along with... several items, perhaps even creatures scattered across the floor around other mirrors? 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. 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. "Just a few of you this month, hm? Don't mind the junk across the floor where you came out, someone is sorting that!" 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 interact with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here for a handwaved, summarized answer to your character's burning questions. 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. Nothing to Be Drone About It While a handful of mirrors in the Looking Glass House at 3 am on the 15th spat out people - new Mirrorbound or perhaps returned Mirrorbound - many other mirrors poured forth items or small creatures, all on their own. The night cleaner resigns himself to a long night as he has to deal with mess and confused folk, but he isn't terribly surprised. It was around this time last year that something similar happened with the mirrors. They may not understand it, but it looks like it may be a pattern, relics of the Mirrorbound's lives reaching out to them from home as gift or curse. The night cleaner fetches Miss Nessie to handle the arrival of a handful of new Mirrorbound, and then returns to start tidying up everything else. Luckily, she assigns him some help in the form of a young Witch named Emmelie, eager to prove herself. Not wanting to crowd the Looking Glass House, in the ensuing hours, she turns to an invention of hers to sort out the stuff littering the room with the mirrors. The goal, of course, is to get each item back to its rightful owner, and she firmly believes in better living through magic innovation! Unfortunately, it becomes clear fairly soon that Emmelie's brass flying saucers, which she had hoped would effortlessly deliver each item based on magical signature matching, could use a little... fine-tuning. The big saucers complete with six segmented mechanical 'arms' to hold the cargo in place are persistent as they zip around the city, often trying to take the shortest path to their programmed destination - whether it means they bump endlessly into barriers such as walls, get stuck on rooftops or in the River Temese, or knock over people, natives and Mirrorbound alike, who happen to be in their flight path. Some of them end up at the wrong Mirrorbound, and bump incessantly into them until they take the offered item, uncaring if they're who it belongs to or not. Of course, some deliveries go smoothly, exactly as they are intended to, but... they're in the minority. By the early afternoon, Emmelie is sending out a voice message that can be heard by Mirrorbound anywhere in the city, her young voice panicked as she explains what happened with her inventions and your mementos of home, adding at the end: "Ahh, it's such a mess! Look, you've got to help me, and please don't tell Miss Nessie, she'll never trust me with anything important ever again! I'll owe all of you so much if you'll just help find and return everything to where it needs to go!"

Welcome to November's combo Intro Log and event! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs. 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 as well right over here at November's Quest Pickup thread. 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

OOC QUESTIONS

[moustre]

GENERAL

[moustre]

EVENT

[moustre]

ROOMMATES AND HOUSEMATES FINDING

[faileas]

Fill out the following form if your character is the type to participate, post it here, and comment around for some ??? profit! Since we know that character desires don't always line up with player desires, we have both an IC and an OOC portion to fill out; the IC portion is what gets read aloud by the board, while the OOC portion is just for plotting among each other - which can be done on this thread!

If your character wouldn't participate, but you'd still like to plot for housemates, just use the OOC portion of it.

• IC Portion (All of this should be filled out as your character would - if that means lying about any of the information asked after, or omitting certain things, go for it.)
Name:
Age:
Three words you'd use to describe yourself:
Favorite color:
Seeking: What they'd like in a roommate/housemate.
Not Seeking: What they wouldn't like.
Preferred living situation: With just a few people, in a house that house multiple groups (like an apartment or twin house situation), etc.
Extra notes: Pets, special circumstances, etc.

• OOC Portion (All of this is just for you, the player!)
Character name:
Character age:
Canon:
Choice: Witch or Monster?
Preferred housemates or plans: What kind of characters/living situations you'd like. Need someone to bully your character into being nicer or less lazy? Want someone to help your character loosen up a little? Put your wishes and plans here.
Extra notes: Anything else, be it ways to contact you, notes about your character, and so on.

• <B>IC Portion</b> <b>Name:</b> <b>Age:</b> <b>Three words you'd use to describe yourself:</b> <B>Favorite color:</b> <B>Seeking:</b> <B>Not Seeking:</b> <b>Preferred living situation:</b> <B>Extra notes:</b> • <b>OOC Portion</b> <b>Character name:</b> <b>Character age:</b> <B>Canon:</b> <B>Choice:</b> <b>Preferred housemates or plans:</b> <B>Extra notes:</b>

IC QUESTIONS

[moustre]

If you wish to handwave interaction with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here with your character's questions or actions. We'll summarize a brief response for you. We don't currently have time to do full IC threads with the NPCs, however if you'd prefer a more personalized approach...

Those who volunteered for the Welcome Wagon may also respond in our place, if it's a question your character would know the answer to! Nessie and Mhairi trust you all.

Just specify in your comment header if you're open to Welcome Wagon folks or not!

Open to the Welcome Wagon!

[selffound]

Historia wants to know if Nessie and Mhairi are the ones who brought everyone here, and if there's any way to return home! I know the FAQ mentions that the Coven don't know why people are being brought in, but I wasn't sure if things have changed since then.

Mettaton | Undertale | Puca (OTA)

[glitzandglamour]

Nothing to Be Drone About It
[The last time items poured from mirrors, Mettaton was sorely disappointed to find that nothing of his own arrived, especially when he owns so much that would benefit the whole of Aefenglom! (By "own," that included anything branded by him, obviously! Fire up your MTT-Brand microwaves and get on that five minute challenge!) But that didn't mean that things wouldn't be different this time, and the robotic idol was eager to see what sort of obviously IMPORTANT SURPRISE would visit him from home! A pair of crystal-studded sunglasses? A sharp red suit? One of his many beauty creams and ointments, for a better, MTT-Brand You?? He hoped.

But this would not be the case. Instead, Mettaton would be the recipient of six little red notebooks, each of which contain any one of these entries of your choosing. Yes... Just one entry. From thought-provoking tales such as "I like to buy a new diary for every entry I make. I love to collect diaries," to something a bit more suggesting of a life led by a human-adoring, stardom-pursuing, diary-hoarding... ghost?

And of course, as all troubles are, they would be inevitably split up throughout the city...]

A. Dear Diary,

Wait! Come ba- stop that stupid drone!!

[Mettaton's not calling out to anything in particular, but despite being a fleet-footed Puca, this saucer carrying a little red notebook is managing to cause him a big headache. The Puca ricochets off of building walls and even hops over whole crowds, but to no avail, as the saucer seems determined to deliver the goods to literally anyone other than its obvious screaming owner.

Perhaps your character's only bearing witness to this chase, or is the actual recipient of the misplaced book, but Mettaton still yells out to either the saucer/your character,]

Give it back!! I know where it rightfully belongs!

[But he doesn't claim it's his or anything... Help him tackle down that saucer? Or antagonize the poor robot by not only unjustly receiving the diary, but refusing to hand it over?]

B. My diary collection is going fabulously. I have like ONE now.

[As a Puca, it's driving Mettaton bonkers that he can sense that all six of his diaries are here, but there are so many spread throughout the city that he can't keep his head from spinning! He also can't precisely track any of them down. Almost seeming tired for once, a permeating aura of exhausted stress overcoming him, Mettaton approaches your character no matter where they may be in the city, though he tries his best to tidily tuck away all of that tumult behind a charming, movie star smile (adorned by rabbit teeth). He raises one of his hands in a wave.]

Hey there, beautiful! Receive anything good through the mirror?? I bet. Hey, listen.

[Does he seem to care what your character got? Not yet. Instead, Mettaton produces one of those little red notebooks from behind his back, and points to it.]

Have you seen any red-covered diaries, just like this one? It's nothing special. But I happen to know these come in a set, and... I'm looking to find their matches! I only have one so far... Have you any illuminating leads?

C. AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO DIE.

[So. Your character's minding their own business when one of those saucers forcibly deposits one of these red journals in their lap. There aren't any identifying features about the journal: no names, no insignias on the cover, no signing the front or back cover or anything. They have a golden opportunity to even flip through this nondescript journal!

...The center of the diary, should they choose to flip there first, is blank. Almost like an unused book. But if they're the type to start from the beginning of a book, they're likely to see any one of the single entries linked above. Just one entry, no more, no less. Unsigned, undated. Who could this mystery book belong to?

Mettaton practically manifests out of thin air when he jostles your character roughly, whether that's by kicking a bench, slamming a table, or grabbing their shoulder. An aura of absolute malice decorates his very being, his smile tight and vicious.]

Could that be? What I think it is?? Ooooh, a diary!!! Is that yours??? No? [As if he knows it's not. Mettaton falsifies a terribly surprised gasp. Even his terrible smile flattens, his ears bent back in aggression.] Then why are you reading it? How nosy of you... Hand it over.

[Mettaton holds out a hand, already holding a matching little notebook or two in his other hand. His tone is final, and flat as his expression. But he follows up with a smile that could only be described as menacing in its sweetness, wiggling his fingers.]

Please.

[He has manners.]

0. Other
[Feel free to give me anything or make something up! I'm also up for any of the intro prompts if you'd like to play those. Feel free to get in touch via PM or smaaaaash.]

We're wildin' cause she has no idea what this

[stopfen]

[Well her plan for the day had been to bundle up. Put Tater in the little coat she'd knitted for him and go for a walk. Winter really was setting in.

What hadn't been planned was for her to nearly be beaned in the head by a book. Whatever it was, her reflexes bested it. The fae ducking as it bounced off the floor. Tater in all his curious fuzziness, yipped jumping on it and biting the cover as he started to drag it along while Mikasa stared up at the offending drone... It was making a getaway? Wha?

A few more little growls from the dog prompted her to duck and rescue the book. Shaking the dirt off. Giving a flick through the pages... Not understanding a word of these strange letters.

Looks like a unenchanted book. That was her only assessment here. ]

text; un: scenarios

[silentsavant]

[ It is as though the source of the mirrors' power thinks that revealing Mettaton's past to him in new and creative ways is some kind of recurring joke. Soren doesn't want anything more to do with the robotic Puca's apparitional history, especially after the tension of their last confrontation that ended in blackmail Soren wasn't sure he was ever going to want to use. But even if he swore not to tell anyone this secret he didn't understand the complications of, Soren knew that any suspicious mind who had dirt they desperately wanted buried shouldn't be satisfied with pinky promises.

But all things considered, the fact that this sensitive information ended up in Soren's hands and not someone else's should be quite a happy accident for the Puca. ]

Mettaton. This is Soren.

I am contacting you because I have been given what appears to be one of your personal possessions. How would you like to arrange for me to hand it off?

Ferran Gallagher | OC | Fae

[noblegarnet]

Nothing to Be Drone About It | A

[Hopefully no one was harmed by the drone carrying a basket-hilt sword with a black blade, given that the item has no sheath. Ferran himself probably loses a few hairs in the process of dodging the thing when it finally finds and hovers over him, determined to drop off its cargo properly.]

Woah!

[He doesn't recognize it, and tries to swat it away at first, but another drone soon comes along with a large carpet bag, only partly snapped shut. The two of them drop their items with a clatter and a fwoomp, and it's only then, when Ferran sees a cape and gauntlet through the opening of the bag, that he registers what it all really is. His heart plummets in his chest as he raises his head to protest.]

This isn't... mine.

[The words would have no relevant ears to fall on even if the drones hadn't already puttered away, content to have accomplished their mission. There's no one to take this back to. Unless—]

—shit...

[No, it can't be. The man would have found him by now, surely, if he had arrived with the other new Mirrorbound. And the machine would have no reason to identify him as the recipient—

We have the same power, did you know? echoes in his head. Of course they would have a similar signature. And who knows what Onyx—what Rion did to him, how he might have warped something in him to make them even more alike.

When he stumbles back against a wall with the sword and bag of armor dropped at his feet, it's not even fear that settles within him. It's only grief over a connection that was never real, and utter hopelessness.

He puts his head in his hands, just trying to breathe.]

B

[After a short while, though... well, he can't just sit there the whole day. Eventually, he has to put all of this somewhere, and in a way, it is his responsibility.

Even if whoever sent this—that Witch and her prototypes, or the night cleaner who had to gather everything up‐has put the armor in a convenient bag for him to carry, it's still heavy, and the sword that came with it just makes the whole package especially unwieldy. He's not struggling with it, but the way he's carrying it looks distinctly awkward.

Ferran doesn't seem to be attempting to readjust and make the effort any easier, staring ahead at the path as he makes his way (hopefully) to his house in the Haven. He is definitely not paying as much attention as he should be, given that he's carrying a sharp blade that has no sheath, so he could probably use a reminder even if someone isn't in the mood to offer any help. At the very least, it might keep him on track instead of getting him lost and walking right out of the city.]

Wildcard

[OOC: Want to deal with a different kind of Ferran suffering? Shoot me a starter or hit me up over PM or at lumieresdedragon and we can figure something out!]

A-ish

[prettyrocks]

[ Tsutha doesn't really know what the word incongruous means. If only she did, she could use it to describe the odd events that just befell her. No sooner did she get a personalized delivery of a whole bucket of turkey legs, the bucket stamped, PROPERTY OF MEADOWWILDE UNIVERSITY, and felt an initial surge of elation, was that feeling instantly replaced with one of deep, shocking (confusing) grief.

Why would she be sad about turkey? It takes her a minute to put two and two together. She sees more drones flying through the sky, delivering parcels to various Mirrorbound homes, and she realizes where the feeling must have come from.

She doesn't hesitate to pull out her watch and call Ferran, her voice shot through with concern. ]

Ferran, are you there? It's me, Tsutha. I felt... something. Through the bond. Is everything okay?

B

[tsukky]

[ Every time Tsukuyo runs into Ferran he seems to be going through some kind of inner crisis. At least, that's the impression she's getting.

She's now got it rightly or wrongly stuck in her head that he's someone who is fragile and prone to collapsing in the middle of the street. Therefore she is slightly concerned at the sight of him wandering the streets of the Haven in some kind of daze with an unsheathed blade. ]

Ferran? [ She eyes the weapon. She knows blades and that is sharp. ]

Be careful with that.

A!

[darkestbefore]

[ The strange little drones have been zooming back and forth all morning, although one hasn't sought out Yona yet. She's not sure what any of them could bring her, for one, so she's not really looking out for one. Just going about her business and heading towards Inkchanted for a few hours instead.

Only, turning a corner, she spots a familiar figure slumped against a wall with a pair of bundles before him. She takes only a moment to blink in confusion before hurrying over to his side. ]

Ferran? Are you alright? What's wrong?

A

[al_bhed]

[Hello Ferran, you have a text message!]

HI ARE YOU OKAY I FELT WEIRD AND KIND OF SAD I THINK IT'S THE BOND WHERE ARE YOU???

[Bonds sure are a thing, Rikku is learning!

After a moment, she adds:]

Also I got a weird cat costume I can show you if that'll make you feel better somehow.

B

[chaoticbeauty]

Stop.

[ It's a simple request -- straight forward with no pretense of politeness, though there's no unhappy edge to her tone. Reading body language, the slight tells others often gave off unintentionally to telegraph their moves or emotions was often vital to her survival. But, she didn't need to be an expert to pick up the emotions he was feeling.

Paired with the fact that there was a seemingly sharp and unsheathed sword in that bag... Well, she couldn't in good faith let him continue. Call it an act of good faith seeing as Geralt wasn't here to chide someone on their sword safety and care. ]

That sword needs to be wrapped or sheathed before you hurt yourself or someone else.

Momo | IDOLiSH7 | Witch (i7 second beat spoilers b/c momo backstory)

[yesdoubt]

[a: finders weepers keepers]

[Momo wasn't here for the last time items appeared from home like this, so he's thus far going about his day in blissful ignorance. Meanwhile, one of the six-armed bots is having a bit of trouble carrying its cargo - it's a decently-sized roll of paper, probably recognisable as a poster to anyone from a modern time, but the bot appears to be unused to the idea of carrying this kind of smooth shiny paper while also not doing it damage, and thus keeps dropping the end of it so it ends up unfurling.

It might be easier to tell whose it is when it does...maybe. Because on one hand, the poster has the name Re:vale written across it, which is a band name that should at least ring bells for anyone who was at the masquerade given Momo and Yuki performed there as Re:vale, and also just anyone who's heard Momo talk about work and his idol duo at all. However, the problem comes with the two young men pictured on it, wearing typically extravagant idol stage costumes. One of the people on the poster is definitely a much younger Yuki, probably around 20 at most and with much shorter hair than he currently has. The other man, however, bears zero resemblance to Momo, blue haired and blue eyed and with a tiny bit of height on Yuki where Momo is a few inches shorter than his silver-haired partner, and with a more mature, sharper facial structure than Momo's slightly softer, cuter features.

In other words, it's not Momo by any stretch of the imagination. And in fact, anyone who can read Japanese may end up with some extra questions in the form of what appears to be a message and signatures on one part of the poster that's very easily visible if it's even slightly unravelled.

Momo-kun,
Told you we'd find a way to thank you, whether you wanted us to or not. This is just the beginning.
We'll keep you pumped up, all night long!

The two signatures are difficult to read by virtue of being a bit artsy, but a very discerning eye might be able to make them out - however, while one can probably be assumed as reading Ban since it's the kanji for ten thousand (this one is also closest to the handwriting of the rest of the message), the other is the character for thousand, which normally wouldn't read as Yuki but apparently does in this situation because names are like that sometimes. Momo's name, too, is written with the kanji for hundred, which might raise some concerns about which god of Momo's world has a dramatic irony flavoured number fetish.

While one may attempt to direct or return the bot to its intended target, it's also entirely possible to find Momo after he's been returned the poster - unravelling it only long enough to go white as a sheet and let it spring back into its furl, then curl it all the tighter between his hands. He looks somewhere between pleasantly surprised but also visibly stunned and horrified about some other aspect of this, which is an interesting combination of facial expressions.]

I can't let Yuki see this... [It's said more to himself than anything, but it's loud enough to overhear. He mostly sounds like he's trying to figure out how he's getting it into the house without Yuki finding it at some point. He already ripped that particular wound open for Yuki again all too recently, and doesn't want to be the one responsible for doing it again.]

--

[b: nosy neighbours]

[Of course, now that Momo's figured out what's going on he's not going to not be nosy about what everyone else has gotten...and he's still scheming his grand scheme to find a more permanent hiding place for his poster before he goes home with it. For now, lacking in hiding places, he's hidden it up one of his overlarge sleeves so he can go investigate everyone else's finds or help robots to find their item's owner, though the fact that he's holding one of his arms dead straight at his side is a bit of a dead giveaway that there's something there.

When he's spreading both arms out in a cutesy sort of excited pose, though, it's easy to miss at first glance.]

So, have you gotten an item lovemail yet? Momo-chan can help you find it if not!

[Takes his mind off his own "lovemail" problems.]

--

[c: wildcard]

[[Feel free to hit me up with any newbie-type stuff around the haven for any newcomers who need a guide, or plot something else at reviseleviathan! I'm trying to boot Momo into talking about some of his problems more, so I'm open to...basically whoever seeing the poster as it's travelling and getting suspicious.]]

aerith gainsborough | final fantasy vii | witch

[bloomly]

I. ARRIVAL

( it feels like falling, like drowning, but there's no rush of water, no suddenly choke of bubbles or the shock of cold, almost as though the reflection comes to meet her instead, rather than the other way around. smashed together, or perhaps intertwined, she can't tell--but there's a pull there, something that has her going from the stark, worried shape of her face peering into one of the puddles in the cement on the road out of midgar, to a dark room that smells like it hasn't been used in some time, or like the windows in it have never been opened at all. are there windows? all she can see, standing there, are mirrors: ones that look dirty, covered in dust, and cast her reflection back at her with gloomy dismay. three chimes of a bell, from somewhere beyond the building; she takes in a breath, holds it, and waits.

but nothing comes. letting it out in a rush, she takes a step over some items, scattered beyond the mirrors, and turns to inspect the one she came out of it. it's bright and shining, showing the slightly disheveled state of her hair, the surprise in round eyes that can't seem to hide their curiosity. etched around the frame of the mirror are such pretty things: flowers and vines, carefully sculpted ribbons, little pieces and symbols that remind her of her friends, so far away now, enough that her heart sinks in disappointment. has it really been that easy to get separated? is this some kind of trick?

resolute, she stands up taller, on the toes of her boots, lays a hand against the top of the mirror and then, carefully, knocks her other hand into the glass like she's asking a door to open. )

Hello~o. Mirror-me? Can you let me back in?

( another knock-knock-knock, and she may be drawing more attention to herself than she would like. )


II. THE WELCOME PARTY

( it's a lot of information to take in at once, and though she sits somewhere near the front, hands pinned at either side of her legs so that she can lean forward in her chair like it will help her absorb the information more readily--she still isn't sure all of it makes complete sense, yet. being told that she's supposed to become some kind of witch is somewhat amusing, and she decides against sharing too much information for now; after all, she has no idea who might be listening, or what kind of trouble that might get her into.

she's more concerned about the other people: those who look deterred by their determination, those who look ill or worried, or who seem unusually quiet. it's only once the floor breaks into more pointed, personal questioning that she stands up and slides over a few seats, slipping right down next to someone who looks particularly shaken by what they've all learned, here. )

Do you want to get some fresh air? ( a soft question, accented by the tilt of her head. ) Or maybe a drink of water? I'm sure they can spare that much.

( a brief glance towards the speakers, before she looks back again in earnest. )

What did they say you are?


III. THE HAVEN

( work is so much easier when there are two sets of hands: especially when one set belongs to tifa lockhart, and finding her in this strange city is enough to set her heart into a swing of relative ease.

the cottage they've claimed appears to have been abandoned for quite some time: the door creaks when they open it, and there's that same musty smell from the mirror-house, like the windows need to be opened and fast. it doesn't take long to discover that the entire place is furnished, either, and though everything is relatively basic, it reminds her of home, of the warmth of the sunlight and of the smell of flowers and that's enough to have her attending to her chores without much complaint. between the two of them, they should easily be able to clean the place up and have it livable by sundown.

she can't help but abandon the entrance, though, where she's meant to be scrubbing down the wooden floors, in favor of hopping down the stone steps to explore what could, politely, be called the garden of the cottage. at the very least, it has the potential for a garden, and she stands there for a moment, admiring the land, before she realizes that she shouldn't be slacking off--tifa might come playfully scold her, and when she sees someone, anyone, even remotely walk out across the path in front of the cottage, she immediately skips forward to take them by the arm. )

Quick! We're going to play hide and seek, okay?

( or, really, hide-and-not-do-our-chores, but. )


IV. NOTHING TO BE DRONE ABOUT IT

Be careful!

( it's not as loud as maybe it should be, but there's not enough time to close the space between them and reach for it--instead, the flying saucer careens right into whatever poor stranger happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, though it only glances off of them, a few arms rotating in complaint, before it starts to ascend up into the air again. dangling from two other arms is what looks to be some kind of braided basket, a ribbon threaded through the circumference of it; and the basket isn't empty. a few yellow petals, shaken free of their cut stems, tumble and fall into the air above aerith and the person she now owes an apology to.

when she finally manages to run up to them, she's panting, slightly, bracing her palms against her knees before she forces herself to straighten up and then, pointedly, reaches out to pat her hands gently against wherever that pesky robotic thing happened to hit them. )

I'm sorry, it's just... I've been chasing that thing all morning, it has my basket.

( she narrows her eyes up at the sky, where the saucer seems to have forgotten which direction it needs to go. )

And it doesn't seem to want to bring it to me... Got any ideas?

( eyes bright, she turns to look back at her new companion--maybe they'll have a slingshot? a sword? maybe they know a way to shoot it down? )


OOC
got a different idea? feel free to hit me with a wildcard, i'm open to anything! for any plotting, you can either send a PM or find me at whitemagics ♥

I. ARRIVAL

[alpina]

[ The knocking actually does catch her attention and there's an expression on her face that's almost relief as she hesitantly walks up to her. ]

I tried that too.

[ She has a small smile, trying to appear as friendly as a person can in this strange situation. It probably isn't a good idea to casually walk up to a random person in the hopes they would be friendly but she didn't really have much to lose at the moment. ]

Did you just suddenly appear here too?

Tsukuyomi | Kamen Rider ZI-O | Merrow

[alpina]

I. Arrival
[ She actually can't remember what she was looking at just before she was pulled into this room. Maybe it was the mirror in the bathroom or it could have been the surface of her bowl of miso soup. Regardless, it was a very jarring feeling to suddenly be pulled into this strange room. ]

What is even going on here...

[ She spends a number of minutes pressing her fingers over the glass of the mirror. Maybe there's a way back through here, she isn't sure. She has a longing expression over her face and she breathes out a flustered sigh before turning and deciding she isn't able to stay here forever. She wanders through the room looking for someone to talk to. Maybe someone will be nice enough to explain to her exactly what was going on here. ]

II. Welcome Party
[ After having spent an inordinate amount of time wandering throught the rooms with mirrors, she follows this strange tug towards the foyer of the first floor. Bold, seeing as how a tug was how she ended up in this mess in the first place. She wonders if time passes in this world similar to home and whether people were starting to notice her disappearance.

As she enters the foyer, she notices that she doesn't seem to be the only confused person. There were many other people with the same blank expressions on their face, trying to piece everything together to try and create a picture of what the heck is going on.

She sighs. Then frowns as she takes one of the seats nearby and pulls out the little tablet like device that she has always used in these situations in the past. Only now, it doesn't seem to be giving her any type of useful information. Her screen was alternating between images of the mirror she has just come through and information about mermaids. ]

What....Why won't you tell me anything useful?!

III Other
[ Anything else you would like to do with my girl? Let me know! ]

ii

[tothemetal]

[Styx isn't new in the least, but he'd heard today that once again people had been falling from the mirrors and had made a special point to swing by. it's always nice to be as helpful as someone with his mental limitations could be...and if he was being honest, he never really stopped hoping to see a familiar face.

he's trying to keep himself out of the way during the orientation part of things, but as he's passing by Tsukuyomi he can't help but overhear her dismayed murmur over the tech issues. oh! that was something he could actually help with, how nice.]

Oh, the wifi don't work here. 's probably why.

[well..."help", anyway.]

julian devorak / the arcana / witch

[suspicious]

( i. in which seven years doesn't even begin to cover it )
( you know? it's quite jarring to go from turning to look in the last mirror he might ever look in again to falling into it and out of another one. all he had done was tap the surface to wipe away a smudge, frowning at the dissatisfied and anxious reflection looking back at him, and... down she goes.

and now here he is. the moment of shock, confusion, and then unsettling apprehension has come and gone in the first few moments of his arrival. here julian stands, with a very familiar raven perched on his shoulder (how on earth did he get here, that's a question for later), in a room full of many more than the last mirror he might ever look into again. he's already tried touching the glass, yes, and pushing on the frame, and circling around it, and all that. he has already stopped to cant his head and count the bells aloud, to himself: one... two... three... and wonder what precisely they're heralding. he hmms and crosses his arms. brings one hand up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. hmm, nope. don't like that, whatever it is. he takes a big step back from his mirror—and bumps right into one of his fellow new arrivals. )

Whoops, pardon me. Terrible time to be clumsy, isn't it? Room full of mirrors. Just imagine all the bad luck we'd be in for!


( ii. in which denial is but the first step on the path to acceptance )
( while a vast majority of the small crowd gathered here tonight may be grappling with their arrival and the news of their little burdens with measures of distress, worry, refusal and the like, julian... seems to have taken a different approach. seems to, because in reality he feels like he's absolutely lost his marbles. this most be some sort of elaborate side-effect of traversing the magic realms. some kind of dream, a spell, a hoax, a prank one of his friends is playing on him, something. the news he's received tonight is as thoroughly impossible as... well... as anything he can think of, and he's got a big imagination.

but on the surface you'd never know it for how he acts. cheerful as can be, chatting up anyone who passes by. maybe laughing a little too easily, in fact. it isn't the kind of smiley attitude that belies a good mood, necessarily, either. it's playacting. it's almost sarcastic. a sure, jan by any other name. eventually, when playing along all finally proves to be too much for him, he confesses utterly unbidden: )

It's horsefeathers, you know? I mean—magic? Me? Hah! No. It's all acting, my dear. We're being taken for a ride. Best just to go along with it and see where it takes us without getting carried away, hmm? Don't worry.

( and yet a subtle note of desolation is present there in that bold statement and on his roguish, grinning face. he's not that confident at all in what he says, is he? no sirree. )


( iii and iv. in which grace is not something people are born with, and this proves it )
( these little cottages may be in serious need of fixing up, but quite frankly julian hasn't lived anywhere so nice in a long, long time. this is a major positive, in spite of all the difficulties he's facing elsewhere during this adjustment period. i mean, why not look on the bright side? it's downright roomy compared to the holes-in-the-wall he lives and stays in most of the time back on the south end. he could have guests over! throw parties! entertain! relax! the possibilities are simply endless without the threat of the hangman's noose to think about right this particular second, and that's something to latch onto.

for a little while. until the crippling insecurity gets the better of him.

so he gets to settling in. come midday the next day, it's looking downright decent. portia would be proud of him! he's carting a dustbin to the trash outside when he stops to appreciate, sort of for the first time, the scenery. the fact that he's got neighbors. how strangely un-dreamlike this feels. if everything else was baffling unreality, this is... is this living? what is this?

no time for philosophizing. here's a question: you know what sucks about being very tall? getting hit upside the head with a frantically whizzing drone while you're standing around holding a pan full of floor dust. malak, his faithful raven companion, gives a piercing squawk of alarm mere seconds before it connects, and of course julian turns to look at him, not at the contraption sailing straight toward his head. it whangs him in the temple and he beefs it straight into the dirt, yelping and then sputtering as the dust he'd been holding puffs up in a plume all around him.

this assault is unappreciated. the raven takes flight and dives after the offending drone, screaming his feathery head off. julian gets up in time to see the flurry of feathers and quickly scrambles to his feet. )

Wait—don't chase it, you'll never be able to take it in a fight! Mala—oomph!

( sorry, did you happen to be chasing that particular drone? because for the second time in this post, julian collides bodily with somebody he may or may not know, and given the size of him, there's a fair bet that he's not the one about to be floored this time. regardless, he offers either a hand up off the floor or a steadying one for a shoulder regardless, grimacing but never missing a beat. )

Oh, perfect, would you help me catch that thing? It's vicious!

( it's like. not even his item it's carrying. don't worry just go with it he has no idea. )

[outofthebreach]

[ The little cottage next to his and Dorian's had sat empty since their own arrival a few weeks ago. So Brennan is surprised when he steps out of his front door this morning to hear a loud squawking from that direction. Wondering what the ruckus is all about, he's just heading that way when a figure comes bowling out of nowhere to collide into him without warning.

Which, if he wasn't used to things lungeing into him on the regular - whether he had his shield on him currently or not - might have even ended up with them both on their asses. Luckily, he's pretty sturdy and his reactions are quick, so instead, he plants his feet and reaches out to steady...

...a guy who looks like he's covered in dirt and has a frantic look on his face, as well as what looks like a nasty bruise forming on his temple. Well, whoever this is, he's apparently had A Morning. Brennan can sympathize but lets his gaze travel upward at the strange device currently being dive-bombed by a bird.

He's not actually sure which one this guy is referring to, the strange contraption or the attack bird. ]

Uhh. Which one?

Yennefer | The Witcher | Witch (OTA)

[chaoticbeauty]

[ Open prompt for Nothing to Be Drone About It in her month catch-all log. ]

Allen Walker | D.Gray-man

[likethelight]

⛧ Arrival ★

[ It would be a disconcerting sort of way for someone to be one place and then suddenly another for anyone, but for Allen Walker... it is an even worse sort of disconcerting, involving mirrors. Involving the things in mirrors that should not be.

Though for him, it would be more that it was the day something extra wasn't there looking back at him in his reflection, but that the entire thing looked... different. Absent and yet not. Something he still knows far better than to reach out and touch from past experience -- but does so anyway.

And, stumbling through to somewhere else, he's as confused as everyone else who he hasn't even realized yet are there. ]

This is...? [ ...the source? No.

That the mirror would have carved upon it seemingly so lovingly everything he holds dear -- that is far more upsetting than the place he thought it might be tied to. And it seems to jump start a sudden panic of realization. ]

Link! Can you still hear me? [ All his attention focused on the mirror and desperately trying to see through it. And while he does know better than to thump directly upon a mirror, he bangs his fist on the wall next to it like that might echo through. Arms thrust to either side of it like he might mean to shake the thing, but he knows better of that as well. ]

Link? Link! [ Making a scene? Voice rising? Absolutely. Although it's unintentional. Link for once he's actually looking for you to be here!! Weren't you just next to him?!

-- next to him... ]

Ah... [ The wind seems to go out of his sails along with the color from his face, however, from what he sees within his mirror. As, of course, nothing's there. Only his reflection.

Nothing over his shoulder. ]


⛧ The Welcome Party ★

[ There is... only so much you can take before you start to get really numb to it, you know. When reality becomes so unreal you just blandly accept it, etc.

That would be sometime after most others have asked their more formal questions and people have begun to mill and murmur. Someone might recall him as one of the new arrivals that asked after some time, with intensely clear eyes and a strict tone, "If all of this is true, then why should we believe it wasn't you who brought us here after all?"

Not aggressively so, and with a tone that had been quite calm. Guarded, sobered and serious, but not aggressive or accusatory.

But by now he just looks... just kind of drained. And as people begin to mill and peel off, he's still regarding the strange sort of pocket "watch" he's been given with some misgiving. Blame it on the fact he's already paying more attention to it than where he's going, because either he stumbles right into someone -- or is unaware as they bump into him. ]

? [ He's a silver-eyed boy in a black and red militaristic uniform and cloak, the badge of an ornate silver (rose) cross over his heart on both. Stark white hair, bright red scar (tattoo?) on his face that stems from what seems to be a star or solid pentagram on his forehead, and generally pale complexion.

Although more curious thing would seem to be the golden creature perched on his shoulder much like a parrot would, round and large as a grapefruit with long wings. ]

I'm sorry-- [ Was he the one who had been bumped into and not the other way around? Doesn't matter, the answer is reflexive and without his normal high energy.

He's aware enough that seems rude however, and seems to try and rouse himself to try again. ] Pardon me, I must not have been looking.

[ He sounds... so dazed and a little despondent, eyes slightly glazed over. This poor child. ]


⛧ Nothing to Be Drone About It ★

[ Here's a new one: do you know what it feels like to get smashed in the back of the head by a grapefruit-sized and oddly heavy nerf ball? Because you're sure about to. ]

Tim! [ That's the only warning someone is going to get. Which, as their name probably isn't Tim, isn't much of a warning. Especially as it's from a boy who seems to be shouting in concern for someone.

So whatever poor person had been minding their own business is going to suddenly find themselves getting somewhere between clipped and walloped pretty hard by one such oddly squishy yet dense thing out of the blue. If they're not too disoriented from it, they might notice the culprit would seem to be a brightly gold orb with wings that goes ricocheting past them in... somewhat of a panic? (Can orb-creatures have emotions? This one seems to radiate it.)

In hot pursuit, one of the many drones plaguing the city also buzzes by somewhat noisily.

In hot pursuit of that, a uniformed boy who looks a little panicked at seeing the latest collateral damage. He jogs to a stop next to the person, fretful and checking to make sure they haven't been seriously hurt. ]

Ah! Are you alright?!

[ Maybe he should apologize, but... it's not like it's Tim's fault?? ]


⛧ Other ★

[ Wildcard me with whatever! ♥ Allen is a witch, and his mostly-done info page is here. PM, SleightsOfHand#7916 on Discord, or hit me up on SleightsOfHand to discuss anything. ]

The Welcome Party

[lostinshadows]

[New arrivals always meant new people. And sometimes new people means familiar faces.

But with so many people, no one really seems to catch his eye. Not in the way they should if they pinged him to be even remotely familiar.

Only, the one time he wasn't properly looking, someone's running into him.

His hand reaches out to steady the other person, finally turning to look--

And his ears twitches. Long, red floppy ears on the side of his head that seems to move just the slightest bit once he recognizes who the person is.]

Allen?

[his voice is filled with a bit of disbelief.]

[geiz]

i. a r r i v a l ｡

[ Why is everything so confusing here? Geiz has no real idea how he ended up here, but he's taking note of his surroundings and giving himself a mental note NOT to try and break the mirrors by punching them. Normally, he's the type to do it, but right now probably isn't a good time to go breaking things out of frustration or confusion.

Especially if those things might give him an explanation. One that he desperately needs to make sense of things.

So he sets about walking around and looking for any new clues to lead him to where he needs and want to be. All the while he's muttering under his breath that he's going to beat everyone up somehow if he's forced to.

If only he could blame this on a face he can punch right at this current moment.

If only. ]


ii. w e l c o m e p a r t y ｡

[ This is all so weird but Geiz isn't that bothered by how weird it is. He's used to weird. He's a Kamen Rider from the future who went back in time to kill the younger version of a tyrannical king. So mirrors? Weird monsters?

Yeah, he's used to it.

But that familiarity with the odd and strange, as well as dangerous, doesn't ease the worry in his chest right now. It's pricking at his senses and telling him to demand answers from this "Miss Nessie" but he's learned over time that just shoving people up against walls and ordering them to tell him what he needs to know won't always work.

So he's going to take a deep breath and try to calm down as he walks around, half listening to the general discussions going on outside of his reach. He then pauses, thinking for a second, before he sighs and reluctantly sits himself down on one of the wooden chairs. He's going to need to listen and ask if he wants answers.

"I can't believe I got into a mess like this," he growls that out under his breath while trying to get comfortable on his seat. At least they're comfortable to sit in, and he feels like he's definitely going to be sitting here for a while. ]


O T H E R [ Closed to Tsukuyomi and Sougo ] ｡

[ When in a new and unfamiliar place, people usually try to find things or others that they know. Familiar faces and memorized landmarks and such. So right now Geiz is frustratedly looking and walking around, his stride heavy and rushed as he tries to find either Tsukuyomi or Sougo.

Or both.

Both would be good right now.

At the edges of his mind though, there's a tiny sense of recognition because there are parts of this place that remind him of something-

Which is probably Sougo's fault.

God, when he finds the both of them, Tsukuyomi is going to have to make sure Geiz doesn't try to blame Sougo for this and, because of that blame, she's also going to have to try and make sure he doesn't destroy him for this either. ]


W I L D C A R D ｡

[ Come at Geiz with everything you haveeeee!! Or just hit him up any way you want to. Say Hi, shove him into a ditch, throw something at his head. It's all good by me. ]

w-w-w-WILDCARD, BAYBEE

[prettyrocks]

[ Today is an exciting day! Not only are there new people arriving at the Looking-Glass House, but Tsutha got a delivery of delicious turkey legs in a bucket all the way from Meadowwilde! She's eating one as she walks towards the courtyard to greet the new arrivals, and when she sees a face she doesn't recognize, she holds out the bucket to him. ]

Hey, you must be new! Turkey?

Billy Kaplan | Marvel 616 | OTA

[actualwizard]

i. Arrival/Welcome Party

[ The first thing Billy did once he got his bearings was try to reach out to his magic and teleport home. Except when he reached there was nothing there. Not the familiar lick of power he had become accustomed to the last seven years. There was something there, but it wasn't anything he was used to, and it certainly wasn't strong enough to do anything but flicker quickly and go out.

So. Not. Panicking.

The only thing making him not lash out and demand answers is the people around him look just as confused and turned upsidedown as he feels.

He ventures out to explore, figure out what the hell happened, where he is, and what is going on.

Eventually, he makes his way down to the foyer, whether by chance or because something in him is telling him to go this way.

He sits and listens to the explanation he is given even if he still remains suspicious.]

ii.The Haven

[ He gets his questions answered, things explained, and he still has more, but those are probably for another day, or other people that seem to be stuck here too. He makes a note to venture back to the Coven because if they are going to teach him magic then he's going to take advantage of that.

But right now he needs to clear his head and walk....and find somewhere to live. They said the housing is free but...

So we can live anywhere?

[ He says it loud enough to be overheard, as he is looking around at the residences. Anywhere? He definitely looks lost. ]

iii. Wildcard

[ Anything else? Feel free to drop your own starter so encounter him somewhere else. Poke me on plurk courtings if you wanna plot.]

The Haven

[chaoticbeauty]

[ Going out and about in the Haven on this particular day was a poor choice on her part, but if she was going to entertain the idea of possibly relocating for the sake of convenience, she needed to see what was still available. She hears the question as she walks, unsure if it's intended for her or someone else. Though, with everyone busy and nothing better to do at the moment, she takes the time to answer the posed question. Violet eyes fix on him, though there's no malice or annoyance in her gaze. ]

Yes, I would personally recommend one of the cottages -- at least to start out. Though, if you were to choose one of the larger houses for yourself, I'd hardly think anyone would fault you.

[ Gods, she'd almost done it just out of habit and her enjoyment of the finer things in life. And if she'd followed her instincts, she wouldn't be needing to look at moving. ]

Historia Reiss | Attack on Titan | Harpy

[selffound]

ARRIVAL.

[ Historia doesn’t understand what’s going on.

One moment, she’d been reaching towards her own reflection in the surface of the water… and the next she’d been pulled inside without warning, ending up... here.

It’s been more than a few minutes since, so she’s over the initial panic and bewilderment at something so seemingly impossible happening. But those feelings have just been replaced with a sense of dread - a sinking feeling in her stomach that only seems to get worse with each passing minute.

Because she doesn’t know how to get home. Back to Paradis, where the people she cares about are waiting. They still need her, she still needs them, and she’s there’s so much more that she wants to do, there!

Of course, she’d tried to go back through the mirror, but had no success. Her next thought had been to break it, but she’d eventually decided against that – after all, if the mirror was really how she’d entered this place, destroying it might mean destroying her only shot at going home. The other mirrors were just as solid, so that left…

Well. Wandering around, trying to figure out just what this place exactly was. So that’s what she’s doing now.

She hadn’t been ready to bump into someone else so soon, though. She whirls around with a surprised expression on her face- ]

Ah!

THE WELCOME PARTY!

So that’s it, then?

Historia’s just – what, meant to accept all of that? There’s so much information she’s learnt in such a short time it makes her head spin. And more than anything… she feels alone.

It’s funny. Ever since becoming the Queen, she’s had less and less opportunities to spend time with her friends… yet she’s never felt quite as lonely as she does now. She supposes it’s because usually, at least she knew that they were still there. This time, she doesn’t know if she’ll get to see them again.

It’s a thought that makes her shiver. …So she tries not to imagine the worst-case scenario.

There’s a part of her, honestly, that’s fascinated by all of this. So that’s the part she tries to focus on, as she looks around the sea of unfamiliar faces and people looking just as confused as she is. At least she isn’t the only one. There’s a lot she has to catch up on… ]

I can’t believe they’re expecting us to just accept it, though…

[ she mutters to herself, unaware that there’s someone listening. ]

WILDCARD

[ Feel free to throw something at me if you'd like! You can PM me or get in touch with me at Rivenix if you'd like to plot anything, too! ]

wildcard? slight AoT spoilers

[stopfen]

[Okay, Mikasa wasn't much of a reader. She preferred to keep moving. That reading the strange letters of this place when they weren't enchanted to translate hadn't been a priority. Not when so many locals couldn't read themselves.

Then she'd brought those seeds, planted them into the community gardens. And those veggies had literally grown legs and ran off.

Which was why she was currently running with a horrible thing. A giant pumpkin that she'd had to wrap her arms around as it wiggled it's round body, the cat part of the creature making it as much of a pain in the butt as possible. Because it lunges, trying to rub it's head against the fae. Except it's skin was a lot harder than a cat's. It earns a grunt from the fae as she moved to hold it at arms length. Excuse me cat-kin?

Then she blinks spotting an oddly familiar girl behind the leaves and Mikasa stills. Black eyes narrowing to squint, was that? ]

Huh?

[That 100% looked like Historia. But from...awhile back. But Jean had mentioned being from a different time hadn't he? And there was the captain who was a lot less dead than she'd expected. That doesn't stop the fae from questioning it, and wondering if she could be recognised anymore? ]

Tifa Lockhart | Final Fantasy VII | Witch

[somersaulting]

i. Arrival/Welcome

[ For a moment, she thinks it's the sun reflecting off the now-distant Midgar. But it's more than that, something that draws her attention for just long enough that Tifa reaches out to touch it, curiosity gleaming in the red eyes of her reflection. Where exactly it is she doesn't remember, only that in the next moment she's pulled through whatever it was, stumbling out into the darkness of a place she doesn't recognize. When she turns back, it's confusion she sees on her face, the mirror echoing her actions from the other side as she traces her fingers over the delicate, ornate decorations that frame it; in the metal, she sees places, faces, memories of home, and in the same moment that she hears the bell chiming in the distance, she realizes the truth of it: she's no longer at home.

There's a twist of anxiety in Tifa's gut, but she hides it in the square of her shoulders, the set of her lips, as she turns away from the mirror, looking out over the room, and her eyes widen for a moment when she sees all the hundreds of other mirrors that line the walls. ]

What...?

[ Tifa's fingers curl, hands forming loose fists at her sides as she takes a few steps into the room. It doesn't seem particularly unsafe here, at least not for now, but she'd rather be ready than not in the case that something does go wrong. And so it's like that that she moves up to the first floor, to join the gathering group of people. Her focus is mainly on trying to work out what's going on, but anyone nearby will be offered a small, tentative smile, a nod of acknowledgement - whoever they are, wherever this is, they're all in it together. ]

ii. the Haven

[ It's not home, Tifa thinks, but it could be. With her and Aerith working together - or, you know, Tifa working and Aerith trying to engage passersby in games of hide-and-avoid-the-chores - there's a very real possibility that they'll be able to turn this cottage into something properly livable. There's a space that could very well be a garden, and the kitchen is sizable enough for the restaurateur's liking too; maybe there's even a chance for them to go back to what they know, take a home and turn it into something for them both to do, to keep busy in the strange new world in which they've landed.

It's not until sundown that she emerges from the cottage. There's still work to be done, but nothing urgent, things that can wait for another day, once she and Aerith have settled into their new situation. For now, she's content to take a walk around their new neighborhood, her new watch tucked safely into her belt. Anyone she meets will be greeted with a warm smile and a wave, and perhaps even an introduction, if they're a new face! ]

iii. Nothing to be Drone about it

[ It's some kind of flying saucer that crashes into her, ramming itself into her time and time again until she takes the item it was previously holding in its mechanical arms. Apparently, it thinks it belongs to her, and as a result, refuses to take no for an answer. The problem of course is that whatever she's now holding is something that Tifa has never seen before in her life. She tries to pass it back to the drone, but its job is done, thank you very much, and zips away even as she's left sputtering helpless protests to its retreating shape.

In the end, once the panicked message is sent out, she has to reluctantly accept that it's a decent enough ice-breaker if anything; holding her new Thing in her arms, Tifa makes her way around the city, stopping in front of any other Mirrorbound she finds and holding it out to them, a tilt of her head and a question in her eyes matching up with a tentative smile. ]

This doesn't belong to you, does it?

iv. wildcard

[ If there's nothing here that suits you, but you want to do something with Tifa, feel free to drop me a line here or at denouements, or even just throw something at us! ♥ Any of the prompts are okay! ]

iii. sort of. part wildcard instead.

[grandspark]

[The Turk watched from afar as the petite, sturdy woman delivered a package to another Mirrorbound. He knew she was one, too, if only for the fact that she was from his world. It's why he paused on the street to watch.

So Tifa was here now, too.

That made quite a few of them from the Planet in this world now. Doing his best not to think of the implications that may or may not have on things, Rude considered what to do with Tifa now that she was among the rest of the Mirrorbound.

He could simply leave her be. No need to start anything here. They may not even run into each other ever again around this big city. And yet, he'd already run into Zack a few times so it wasn't impossible that they'd run into each other again. Possibly under worse circumstances.

So the other option was to confront her and talk to her about the Turks' presence here in Aefenglom. Let her know there were no hard feelings... particularly not on his end.

He watched her cross the street and, presumably, head back the way she had come. Her current path would lead her right by Rude. He was just another monster on the streets but his distinctively Mirrorbound-inspired tailored suit and sunglasses from home made him stand out perhaps just enough to be noticed. From there it wasn't much of a stretch to recognize his features--despite the added scales and spikes and wings that made him look a little bit like Bahamut in smaller form. The only thing he was lacking at this point was a tail and a full set of horns. They were on their way though.

He decided to take matters into his own hands, get it over with--at the last minute, he spread his wings wide as if he were going to adjust them before putting them back on his back. Except he did it exactly when Tifa was going to simply pass him by. And the one in front of her didn't fold back up neatly onto his back--not, at least, until she looked up at him.]