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Intro Log: November & Event: Nothing to Be Drone About It
I. ARRIVAL
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
"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
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 ItWhile 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!
no subject
I'm—
[It turns out that it's a little hard to reply when you have no idea what to say. What's he going to do, say he's fine and have the stranger leave him to his obvious crisis? Yeah, right, that's going to be useful.]
...n-not... not hurt. [Whoops, there goes a voice crack—but at least he can honestly say he's not injured. That's one good thing about the situation.]
no subject
the young man says he isn't hurt, but . . . wasn't he? )
I'm glad to hear that.
( gently, softly. )
Are you able to say what happened to you?
no subject
These... things. Dropped in front of me. [He nudges the partly-open bag with his foot, and the sword is lying only a foot or two away. There's nothing like having an unsheathed blade practically tossed at you, associations with its owner aside.]
They're someone else's. [Stay calm, don't panic—but even if he doesn't, the dread has already settled in.] Someone who can't be here.
[If he is, then that's it, he might as well throw himself into the Wilde for the Cwyld to take. It probably wouldn't be as painful.]
no subject
he considers removing the items, but he doesn't want to be rude. they don't belong to him, after all. he hopes to be distracting enough to keep this boy's gaze instead. )
Can't be here? Are they someone who is already gone?
( as in someone who had already passed on. or were they someone dangerous? if seeing the blade could cause dread, he thinks there might be some weight to the possibility.
slowly, he rummages through the bag on his arm to remove a bottle of juice and extend it towards the young man. )
Here. Are you able to drink anything?
( it might help calm his nerves some. )
no subject
I wish...
[... does he? Ferran closes his eyes, trying to ignore the way his chest twists at the thought of everything Rion did. The deaths, the fighting, and the apparently fake kindness all the while. As a result he's a little slow to respond to Aziraphale's offer, a weary expression on his face when he looks to the offered juice. He almost refuses, not sure how helpful it would even be, but...]
... thanks.
[The stranger's attempts alone are something of a comfort, or at least a distraction, so he takes the bottle with a faintly trembling hand before starting to open it.]
no subject
( very easily said. whatever had happened was obviously quite the ordeal and at least having a drink could offer some distraction from the swirling thoughts that must be in his head.
he pauses for a moment, considering, before speaking up to ask. )
Would you like to discuss it?
( or should they talk about something else? )
no subject
I don't know what good that would do...
[Ferran isn't fond of piling his traumatic experiences onto a stranger—but perhaps his aversion to it is a lingering defense mechanism from when he couldn't tell anyone else what was going on, since they wouldn't believe him anyway. But there's also a part of him that's humiliated by having such a reaction out in public, when he's been trying so hard to keep it together.
He tries to think, without feeling. Or at least without feeling helpless. He takes a drink of the juice, focusing on the taste to try to block out any further anxiety.]
Why would these be here if he's not? [Maybe the other man knows something about incidents like this. If nothing else, it seems like a more productive topic to pursue than his feelings.]
no subject
( not as far as aziraphale has seen or heard of anyway. granted, he couldn't say that he has heard all that much about it yet. the day is still young, however, and he imagines that this won't be the last time he sees something like this today.
he smiles and hopes it puts this young man somewhat at ease. )
We don't have to discuss it if you'd rather not! Plenty of other things to chat about.
( he is clearly having a difficult enough time as it is, he didn't want to start poking at it if it wasn't going to help him any. )
Perhaps an introduction is in order?
no subject
Thank you.
[He's been so fixated on his grief for so long—even if it's been largely his own doing—that the ability to think of other, mundane things is incredibly appealing. As pleasant as he finds adhering to his usual manners, he's never been so relieved by the prospect of introducing himself.]
I'm Ferran... it's nice to meet you. [It could have been nicer, but he takes what he can get. He tries to straighten himself up at least a little, holding out a gloved hand to shake.]
no subject
or at least as much as one could.
he smiles down at the offered hand before taking it in his own, offering ferran a respectfully firm handshake in greeting. )
A.Z. Fell. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do wish it were for better reasons.
( something more pleasant than this poor young man getting frazzled by having a weapon suddenly dropped in front of him at least! )
How was the juice? Did you have a chance to eat anything yet?
( a neutral enough question. )
no subject
Yeah, me too...
[You win some, you lose some... or in his case, you win for 16 years and then lose consistently on the next. He glances down to the bottle in his free hand again, if just for something to look at that's not his main problem right now.]
It's good, thank you. [Ferran uncaps it again, letting out a slow breath.]
I was on the way to get lunch somewhere, but... [Well, that's not happening.] I don't know.
[He'd have to do something with this mess even if he were still hungry. Even if the emotional part of him is slowly realizing that Onyx isn't here nor can his equipment alone harm him, and even if he knows he can't just leave it all in the open like this, picking it up and moving it somewhere isn't a pleasant prospect.]
no subject
Well—
( he starts, folding his hands in front of him as he thinks about how to best phrase himself. )
How about I pick these up for you? Is there somewhere you'd like to take them?
( which very well might be simply finding a way to dispose of them, but he thinks that at least doing something with them might help. )
hey dreamwidth could you actually send me my notifs? thank you
Funnily enough, the hilt of the sword might be more deadly to a turnskin than the blade itself—the former made of pure silver and the latter of a stone that would chip as soon as it cut into anything, if not for the magic that it normally held. That isn't something that comes to Ferran's mind when he decides to take the sword, though—for one, the blade is less familiar (and thus less emotionally daunting) to him than the armored costume that came with the set, and he doesn't want to burden the stranger with a weapon he should be able to take care of on his own.
Thankfully, the outfit has been stuffed into a bag that's much more easily handled.]
I think—my house, in the Haven. I can decide what to do later...
no, notifs just exist in ??? zone now.
he offers ferran a little nod before picking up the bag with ease, hoping to lessen his burden some. )
It's as good of a start as anything, I'd say! Please, lead the way.
( then, after some brief consideration, he asks: )
Do you happen to have house-mates or the like?
>:T
[It'll make things easier to not talk about, at least. As quiet as it can be in such a big place with no roommates, he's found no real reason to regret it yet. This has just added to why he's glad for the decision.
With a steadying breath, he turns to head towards the Haven.]
It's not too far. [So it shouldn't take up too much of this man's time... it'll be easy enough to dump them inside the door and go find something to distract himself with.]
no subject
however, certainly not improper to stay for tea or something along those lines. he smiles over at ferran, gesturing towards the direction they're walking. )
I have a cottage in this area, that makes us something like neighbours, doesn't it!
( to change the subject. )
I was rather surprised to find everything so accommodating. Have you been here long?
i return from the land of hiatus...!
[The Haven is a fairly large area, so saying they're neighbors might be a bit of a stretch... but maybe this guy is trying extra hard to reach out, which Ferran supposes he can appreciate. He still thinks they're sort of in all this together regardless, and that goes beyond the kind of camaraderie neighbors alone would have anyway.]
Only a couple of months. I had the same thought... but questioning it too much feels like a bad idea.
[He can be cautious without saying anything, anyway. What's he going to do, say no to his own free house with no rent? Even as spoiled as he's been all his life, he can recognize the benefits of what they've been given.]
It helps make the rest of it more bearable, at least...
welcome back!
I do believe you're right about that. I fear it might be the sort of situation where if you look too closely, you won't be at all impressed with what you find.
( because it was all very suspicious and he has never once forgotten about that. they had all these homes and space for them without much effort? didn't it feel as if there was something else lurking around the corner? things did usually come with a catch.
and he hardly felt the whole beastfolk and witch aspect would qualify. )
But I do think about it on occasion. The strangeness of it at all.
( he makes a twirling motion in the air with his finger. )
I've been grateful that so many here have been especially kind. I hardly feel as if I would have done half as well if not for that!
thanks!
... but they're not trying to focus on the negatives right now. Ferran nods in response to Aziraphale's remark about how kind people have been.]
I know what you mean... I definitely would have had an even rougher start if people hadn't been so willing to help. [Don't ask him about his first day here, he was a mess. He lets out a sigh.] I guess we got pretty lucky in that way, huh...
[It's hard to think of himself as being lucky on most days, and especially right now—but if nothing else, his pessimistic outlook means he knows just how much worse things can be.]
How long have you been here?
no subject
they could always speak of such things at another time.
he taps a claw against his chin when ferran asks him a question, thinking about the exact amount of time. )
Not all that long, I must admit. For a couple of months?
( his housemate has taken longer naps than that. it's barely any time at all, but it does feel incredibly long when he has to go through the days as a mortal being. )
How about you? Have you had time to settle into the strange life here? Is it anything like what you might be used to?
no subject
[The answer, at least for him, is no.]
I was just a student back home. [Yep, just a student! No supernatural powers or life-altering tragedies here! Don't mind how his hands tighten around the hilt of the sword he's carrying.] Even if magic and monsters were a thing I'd lived with my whole life, I can't even go to school here...
[He sighs.]
But... it could be worse, I guess. [That bar is very low.] Like you said, the people are nice. And I'll probably get used to it. There's just so much to learn.
[It sure would help if his tragic backstory didn't keep getting thrown in his face!]
no subject
( he begins, considering his words carefully. he knows that this topic is already somewhat on thin ice and they might approach very unpleasant territory if they are not equally careful. )
I don't believe there is any hurry. I find that I come across plenty of similarities here and there to places I know, but on a whole. . . this place is so foreign that I fear it might simply be one long and very complicated dream! There is very little I have gotten used to.
( there's a laugh behind that. he knows that it isn't because prior to this, he had never slept before, much less ever had any dreams of his own. if he didn't need to sleep, why must he bother? he has always known it to be a time sink, but now he knows for definite from experience. )
As you can see, I am a man becoming a lion.
( he gestures to his face, although it is not very obvious at current. at most, he has visible sharp teeth. he has taken pains to conceal the more glaringly inhuman parts of himself. )
But I am intrigued! You had magic and monsters where you are from?
no subject
Yeah. A moth, for me.
[Because that's a great thing to be turning into. He's dreading any extra appendages that might appear, but ultimately his train of thought is drawn away from that track by the question about his world.
Unfortunately, the subject is innately woven in with the sword and armor that they're carrying, and Ferran's jaw tightens for a moment. But it's alright—it's only a topic that can be avoided for so long, and dancing around it entirely would be pointless for how often something related could come up. He can circumvent the most unpleasant details, anyway.]
It's kind of a recent development... at least for me. One of those "hidden from everyone until you're chosen" things. For the most part, what I know about magic and monsters back home is that I don't know much at all.
[He never got access to the tutorial NPC. :(]
no subject
that's absolutely fascinating. aziraphale would love to ask at least twenty different questions about it and the only reason why he doesn't is that he doesn't want to poke at a sore spot. all of this transformation business has been nothing but a sore spot for him, so he couldn't imagine it to be any more pleasant for ferran.
oh, but he would love to ask.
thankfully, ferran also mentions something else highly interesting. )
Oh, I see! Like a protagonist in a fantasy novel.
( then a thought. )
I am not sure if it is a relief or a burden that you were whisked away here.
no subject
He does, at least, have the energy to let out a sardonic laugh at the comparison. Ferran has felt that way for a while, like he's the unfortunate soul stuck in the middle of a grand story that he wants no part of. He manages something that resembles a smile.]
I'll let you know if I figure that part out. It's probably just out of the frying pan and into the fire, honestly.
[He does immediately make a face at his phrasing, though. He would very much like to not be in any fires.]