Entry tags:
- * event,
- dbh: connor,
- dbh: hank anderson,
- death note: l lawliet,
- dresden files: justine,
- elfen lied: kaede,
- ensemble stars: rei sakuma,
- ensemble stars: tori himemiya,
- fallout: the lone wanderer,
- fe: soren,
- ffvii: cloud strife,
- ffvii: zack fair,
- ffxiv: francel de haillenarte,
- fz: diarmuid ua duibhne,
- fz: waver velvet,
- granblue fantasy: belial,
- loz oot: zelda,
- majin tantei: yako katsuragi,
- original: iramaat,
- p5: akira kurusu,
- p5: goro akechi,
- the arcana: asra alnazar,
- the arcana: julian devorak,
- voltron: allura
Event Log: May
I. GATHERING
Once everyone is gathered, Nessie (very much a morning person, and sorry to the anyone who isn't) grins and lays a hand on her chest. "Thanks to a good bit of your lot, we've managed to get things ready in record time - aye, I should start out with what I'm talking about, aren't I? Well, well - with the Parliament's permission, thank goodness for my Mhairi's sharp wit, we've managed to get a space for all you to live in outside of The Coven. You can still come and attend classes or talk to all of us, 'course, but everyone's been getting a bit itchy with such suddenly crowded quarters, aye?" Aye aye, calls some poor, tired student from the second floor as they pass through, and Nessie pauses with a slow blink before she laughs, shaking her head. "Anyway, gather your things if you have any and follow me. Or us," she corrects herself, as a few other Witches seem to materialize from nowhere. "Can't be out without a couple of friends, I suppose." As soon as everyone's ready, Nessie and her entourage lead them out of the courtyard, aglow with fresh flowers and the soft light of dawn peeking between the clouds. The spot they've managed to get isn't too far from The Coven proper, and it doesn't look much different than the rest of the Aristocratic District that it resides in - the only thing that sets it apart is the sign Nessie takes a moment to conjure up and hang with balls of light between two streetlamps. The Haven. "Named so as a respite for all you refugees," she explains as she turns around; she sets her hands on her hips, gazing out at the crowd, and gives them a small smile. "I can't stay and chat right now - Mhairi's still with Parliament even with the hours, and I've got things to get in order at the Coven still - but if you have need of either of us, we'll be in contact. We've a little mailbox set up in front of the Coven just for you lot, so just drop us a letter or some such with one of our names or both, and we'll be right quick about answering, we will. Within reason," Nessie adds, laughing a little, "'course, within reason. Anyway, find some familiar faces and have a lovely time, will you?" With that, and a few more little goodbyes, Miss Nerissa Bell takes her leave; half of her Witches disappear with her, but the other half remain to help keep an eye on things as the day progresses and to help with directing people to either houses or the barracks set against the Wall. While there will be no NPC threads this time - sorry! - we have opened up an NPC Inbox! You can find it here. While they definitely prefer letters, they do both have watches now |
II. THE HAVEN
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. Some may be familiar with this portion of Aefenglom already, as they took on the task of helping to clean the area up. Surprise, one could say; they were preparing their own future homes, for their stay in the city. However, 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. Not everyone is so happy, however. A very vocal group of younger rich people are set on harassing and bullying those moving into The Haven, and they aren't afraid to use a little magic to do it. Levitation, fake fire, real fire, sudden weather shifts, and threats to do more if they don't find somewhere else to live are all present - these aristocrats don't care for the new people butting into their lives, especially anyone who looks distinctly non-human or already have signs of their Monster traits coming in. There are others, though, who are quite pleased to have new neighbors - many of them weren't so happy with their other ones - and have set up little stalls to peruse and tables to sit at to help foster them in. These have everything from food to flowers, to expensive-looking trinkets and jewelry on them - the people running them are quite amiable, especially closer to the Residential District proper, and don't mind handing these out for free... or mostly free. The only thing they'll ask of any characters wishing to procure something from their gifts is to perform a trick - sort of like a one-man talent show. They aren't picky, and as long as a character does their best, they'll give them a gift. (Or someone with quick fingers could just swipe them off, given how unprotected they are, but that person will find their hands turning red and leaving similarly-colored marks on everything they touch, as if dipped in paint.) |
III. AND THEN THEY WERE ROOMMATES
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 similar kind of amplification magic that Miss Nessie used earlier in the morning for her own voice. It seems these Witches - or at least one of them - has a prankster nature... and unfortunately, it doesn't stop there.
b. A LITTLE HANDS-ON
• Sticky fingers, meaning characters will stick to anyone or anything they touch. • Truthfulness, meaning characters will say whatever they're really thinking or feeling at the moment. • Desire for company, meaning characters will gravitate immediately to the first person they see, regardless of their feelings on them otherwise. Thankfully, none of these last long - only about ten minutes, and they can't be combined with each other; eating one candy with one effect will simply replace any other effects... Which might be for the better. The subthread for this can be found HERE, while any ones that are made up by the board itself can be simply written into your top levels or replies to other people. Have fun with it, and good luck finding some housemates! |
Welcome to the midmonth event log! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs; take the prompts offered and go wild, go crazy, go stupid, have fun. As ever, if your character is getting into any Shenanigans, let the mods know, and if you have any questions about the log, ask them here!
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I'm an easy target. Hah.
[The words, they're only mildly bitter, and the feelings now, they're turned inward on himself.
They soon reach the tower and its ship's ladder, and he'll release Asra's hand only to motion him up before him.]
After you, my dear. Should you slip, I'll be there to catch you.
[He says it, even as he feels safe in the knowledge that Asra should ascent it as sure-footed as himself. And he'll climb up quickly in the wake of him, nimble and quick as a cat, and when he climbs through the half-open window into the large, square room beyond it, he's quick to cast Cain an apologetic glance.]
Sorry to keep you waiting, my darling. And for ah, well. Making a scene.
[He clears his throat as he begins to shuck out of his heavy coat, strides across the high-vaulted space to hang the garment on one of the pegs nailed into the far wall. Is already undoing the snaps on his jacket, means to strip down to the voluminous shirt underneath now they're safe and warm inside.]
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He blew towards the fire a few times, until its red glow reflected on his face, and while he rose moved a small metal kettle from beside the stove to sit atop it.
The space was as spare and rough as he himself. A pile of cushions and pillows and blankets all to one side, not a stitch of furniture, one wall covered in metal and wooden pegs that served to hold unworn clothes, bits of rope and twine in coils, plain unused knives, an old hammer... the amount of possessions was spare at best, nothing really notable except for a few old books stacked near the makeshift bed. ]
Don't sweat it. Two weeks ago you got kidnapped to a new world, of course you're gonna lash out or whatever. Will you open the window with the better view?
And how do you feel about tea? You ever had it before?
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His lips curl in a faint smile at Cain's display of magic and he wonders how Julian feels about that, or if he's been tempted to try any spells himself yet.]
Mmm, I always enjoy tea.
[A little hesitant, Asra moves across the room to pick a window facing out towards the ocean and opens it, letting a cool breeze laden with salt reach them.]
Do you have access to the rest of the building?
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Asra moves to get the window, which leaves him with no small chore with which to busy himself, and as such - stripped down to his shirt, but with leather gloves still concealing his hands from view - he crosses the relatively sparse space to stand by the window himself. With hands on hips he takes a big, in-drawn breath, inhales the scent of the sea as it rolls into the room. Feels, for one bright moment, as though he's somewhere familiar, somewhere known. And there's a curious sense of contentment that comes from being up so high, looking out at the city beyond.
Has he always felt this way about heights? In this moment, he doesn't think to question it.]
Pretty good view, isn't it?
[He says it distractedly, almost half to himself, before turning to back to face the other two. Folds his arms over the broad plane of his chest.]
And I'll drink tea...when there isn't anything stronger.
[He says it with the flash of a wily smile, leaves Asra's question to Cain-- for now, at least, he still thinks of this as the other man's abode, himself a transitory visitor.]
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He smiled. ]
Killer view, right? Like every new day is the most beautiful thing you could ever see.
And... uh, yeah. We've got access to the rest of the building, yeah! It used to be wooden stairs all the way up from the ground floor, but they collapsed ages ago. Would take a week to clear the mess out, but the bottom could be made pretty cosy. I climbed down a little ways; we could make landings for different floors if we felt like it, as like... a summer project, or something...
[ But he shook his head, grinning, and pulled three small clay cups off the floor with his fingers, set them on an edge of the stove. Pulled a few small vials out of his pocket. ]
You'll have tea first, sweetheart, and like it. It was something special for my family, we'd only be able to afford it every few years if we pooled together. But there was a whole shop of tea, over on the edge of the district. You know, by the square with the fountain?
So I sprung for some.
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He turns to look at Cain as he speaks up and Faust takes the opportunity to poke her head back out of his scarf and stretch out to flick her tongue against Julian's cheek.]
(Kiss!) [The word might be heard just faintly at the back of the other's minds, although to Asra it's far easier to hear. He takes a step back from Julian, anticipating the reaction, and walks to the stove instead.]
Faust, you know how Ilya feels about you. Here, why don't you warm up instead?
[She happily stretches out near the base of the stove instead and Asra turns his attention to Cain and the tea.]
You and Ilya have a nice home here together. I'm glad someone's keeping an eye on him. He gets into too much trouble otherwise.
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--and immediately yelps in alarm, taking a swift step backwards, one arm flailing outwards whilst the other clutches at his chest. It takes him just a second to settle...and then realising the room's other occupants just observed that undignified display, his face begins to suffuse with red.]
Oh. Faust. I uh, I wasn't expecting to see you there.
[He scrubs a hand back through his hair, obviously embarrassed, clears his throat. Begins to move towards Cain with the air of a cat who's been caught doing something stupid and is now pretending they meant to do it all along. Besides, the way Cain talks about the tea, with such overt reverence-- it makes him want to make more of an effort, even if coffee - or alcohol - are more his speed.]
And if you insist, my dear. I'm sure I'll like it. Need any help?
[He glances back over his shoulder as he moves to stand beside Cain, pitches his voice for Asra to easily hear.]
What's that, now? I er, well I'm not going to pretend I'm not trouble. But I'm just um, visiting. It's his home.
[Never mind that he's been 'visiting' for several days in a row, now. That it's been a while since he last slept at some dingy tavern, too drunk to manage anything else. Or some other, even less salubrious, location.]
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Sweet lady. You get warm and cozy, huh?
[ He straightened and turned a wildfire grin on Julian, as if he hadn't anticipated the offer of help but was both grateful and actually... needed it. ]
I don't actually know how long it's supposed to sit! Steep? Go ahead and put the water in for me. But... watch your hands, be careful. No burns.
[ He turned to Asra, et his hands on his hips. ]
It's our place, Ilya. And I'm sure we could make room for you, too, Asra, if you wanna get away from that Coven place.
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...although they're sorely tested as he hears Cain also expressing confusion. He keeps his gaze on what the doctor is doing, even as he listens to Cain's offer.]
Hmm. Ilya is right about one thing, I'm not good at being bound to one place.
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I'm sure I'll manage.
[He says it a touch airily, but what are the chances Cain's warning was given for a reason? Hard to tell, isn't it, with his skin of his hands concealed by the gloves. A warning that seems all the more warranted just a fraction of a moment later, when Cain's comments have him looking up sharp whilst pouring out boiling water into the little cups, only narrowly avoiding spilling.
Our place, he says. Our place, and there's the sound of his name - his true name, so rarely used - pronounced on the other man's lips to perfection. A sense of the deeply familiar, even in this strange world. It pulls him up short, somehow, subtly, in a way he doesn't quite understand. Quietly, he clears his throat.
And hot on its heels is the offer to Asra, one that has Julian's gaze sliding sideways in the magician's direction, surprised, but expecting rejection. Just the brief flick of his eye, and then he returns his focus to the tea.
His mouth, it feels a little dry, suddenly.]
It's true. He's always been a bit of a nomad. Never can find him when you want him.
[Though it's said without the bitterness from earlier-- a factual statement, rather than a barb meant to pierce.]
But look, Asra. What else did you have in mind? I can't imagine you intended to set yourself up in one of those big houses, and you can't just knock about the streets for nights on end.
[Says the man who just called himself a guest in Cain's home, and who has - in fact - knocked about the streets for nights on end.]
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He waggled his brows a little.
But they both turned to look at Asra at the same time, and one side of his mouth hitched up. There was something, a blush of some pleasant warmth, a sense of familiarity. Asra was practically cut from the cloth of all his grandmother's stories. ]
C'mon, guy like Asra could probably charm the keys of the palace from the king's hand, or whatever.
[ He shrugged, reaching down into his boot to withdraw a narrow little knife. ]
But you got a place to crash, anytime, if you want it.
[ He picked up one of the clay cups, used the knife to start stirring his tea. Made a mental note to see about getting some chopsticks or spoons or something. ]
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I'll manage, Ilya. It's not the first time I've lived on my own and gotten by.
[His gaze flicks to the docks and Asra's lips curl in a faint smile. At least it isn't likely to be quite that bad here.
He turns back in time to see Cain using a knife to stir the tea and immediately wishes he hadn't. He'll... have to do something about showing Cain how to make tea properly. Julian certainly won't be much help there.
Crossing to the fireplace, Asra gently picks up the rather warm Faust and then moves to where Cain is.]
Here. [Holding his fingers over the cups, Asra focuses and curls his fingers in a clockwise, stirring motion. There's a faint shimmer of light at his chest and the water starts to follow, spinning itself as though stirred by invisible hands until the honey is dissolved.]
Much easier.
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But when has Asra ever listened to anything he has to say? So he tosses a glance in Cain's direction, gives a one-shouldered shrug.]
Well. I can't make you do anything. But the offer's been made, and no doubt it'll still stand if you change your mind.
[He doesn't know what else to say on the matter, and whilst he doesn't really understand the reason why, his mood feels once again soured. That Asra's like this, always. As hard to pin down as smoke on a breeze, and twice as distant. He knows he shouldn't be surprised.
It has him falling into uncharacteristic silence for a moment then - contemplative, turned inwards - as Asra pads back across the room towards Cain, leans towards the cup.
The faint glow, and the subtle movement of the magician's tawny hand-- it lets Julian know what's happening, that magic is afoot. He makes a face, looks away again.]
I'm sure the knife would have done the job just fine.
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oh.
He watched Asra's magic with an open fascination. No verbal spells, no symbols, just a hand movement. He'd been studying just enough magic to know that this was a symbol of consummate skill, and understood at once that Asra was a master of his craft. He wiped the knife off on his shirt and replaced it from where he'd drawn it.
Julian chimed in, and he raked his free hand through his hair, gave Asra a grateful smile. Twitched his hand out to indicate Julian. ]
His way's better. Nothing gets dirty. But...
What's your deal with magic, anyway?
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Yes, Ilya. What is the problem with magic? I seem to recall you were rather quick to offer yourself up for it before...
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[He turns back in their direction, one hand running back through unruly curls, just as Asra chimes in. Subtly, the tips of his ears flush petal pink.]
And that was different, you know that. It was to help with the plague. There's...well. You remember how desperate things were. There's nothing I wouldn't have done.
[Nothing he didn't do, include coming close to sacrificing his own life, not once, but twice. Never mind that it hadn't been his only motivating factor in the particular instance Asra mentions-- he keeps his gaze carefully averted, continues on. Answers Cain's question.]
And it's...that is to say, I don't understand it. Never have done. All those ominous old tomes and creepy runes and crystals and the like. It's not like science, is it? Where everything has a logical order, set rules to follow, a concrete formula. It's all just a bit beyond me, that's all. I suppose I just don't have the right mind for it.
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He played along, looked from Asra to Julian with catlike curiousity written big and open across his dark-skinned features, one side of his mouth hitched up into a fishhook sharp smile. ]
Whoa, whoa. He won't even look at me, seems like there's a little more to the story you've left out, sugar. And what's that sweet little blush for? Were you really just all work and no play?
Just for that, you'd better kneel while you spill the juicy bits, or I'll just ask Asra what they are.
[ He casually slid one of the cups of tea over to Asra, as if to indicate to Julian that they had allll the time in the world. ]
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That has Asra giving a warm, throaty chuckle, the kind rarely heard outside of intimate situations they'd shared in the past, and he reaches for his cup of tea slowly. His fingers brush lightly against Cain's hand as he takes it, and he favours the other man with a look from under pale lashes.
Whatever moment found there is broken as Faust moves rather rapidly down Asra's arm to curl around the mug and his hand, and Asra settles his attention back on Julian.]
I remember a certain desperation, but I don't think it had anything to do with the plague.
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I, um...
[He stumbles awkwardly over his words as he sinks down smoothly to the ground, kneeling for them, head very slightly bowed, more to conceal his visage than from an act of supplication. His face feels furnace hot, like the room could catch alight simply from having him in it. He lowers his gaze down to the bare boards, the grain of which seems to have become - suddenly - very interesting.]
...I don't stand much of a chance if you're going to gang up on me like this, do I? But, that is to say, I suppose I was er, quite keen. I like to be useful. But um, it's not as though there was nothing in it for me. When there's the promise of pain involved, you'll always find me willing.
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And then Asra was brushing his fingers, lifting his eyes, and something like an electric jolt traveled from the contact and roared up his spine, made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand stiff on-end. His own pulse felt suddenly like thunderclaps, each beat big and hard enough to rattle his bones.
There was something in those eyes, which seemed like they shifted colour when his lashes lowered. Cain imagined that some kind of kinetic energy just lay in wait under Asra's unflappable expression. Like the potent power of a tidal wave hidden under still water, or the molten charges that made the hearts of stars.
His face felt too hot when Asra looked away, and he returned his attention back to Julian. His red face, his almost trembling voice. It had been obvious the two'd had a fling of some kind, but the implications dangled out now suggested so much more than he'd anticipated. He wet his lips, which felt suddenly too dry. ]
You look fucking gorgeous, kneeling down like that. Especially with that sweet little blush. Don't get up, stay just like that for us.
But see, now, even you can admit there was something good to be had with a little magic. You should apologize to Asra for being so sharp about it, before.
[ He turned his face just a little, trying to catch Asra's eye again. Tilted his head toward Julian, as if to ask whether Asra would go to the kneeling man. He covered it, a little, by lifting his cup to take a sip of the steaming liquid.
And fuck if it wasn't amazing, the bright burst of unfamiliar flavors, the floral sweetness of the honey... ]
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[He can see that there's something here between them, something that's started to become a familiar pattern between the two of them. Something that they seem to be surprisingly open about sharing. Asra's gaze rests on Cain for a long moment, measuring and hard, looking for any sign that there's more here that he's missing. He can't miss how the other man's expression is slightly flushed now as well, and he keeps watching for a long moment as he takes a sip of his tea and sets the cup and Faust down.
Then, in a surprisingly quick motion, he crosses to Julian and reaches down to catch the doctor's chin in a firm grasp. Tips his head up to meet his gaze and search Julian's face as well, his own expression utterly unreadable.
When Asra does speak, his voice is low velvet, pitched so both men can hear it but intended purely for Julian's ears.]
Tell me, Ilya, what is it that you desire right now. Convince me of it.
Or should I leave you two instead?
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He says nothing, for a moment. His face is hot and his heart beats hard and there's there's a swift-ascending feeling in him that leaves him dizzied, excited, sick. His gaze shifts slyly to Asra, trying to gauge the magician's reaction, but as always there's that inscrutable wall were emotion ought to be. A calculated distance, his long, hard, unreadable gaze--
--and then abruptly he's closing the distance between them, flowing like water across the room's bare boards, familiar fingers closing tight around his chin. Julian's breath catches in his throat like silk dragged over splinters as the magician tilts his face, forcing their eyes to meet. Asra's violet gaze sweeps across his countenance and its still there in him, that unfathomable look, all discernible feeling artfully concealed from view.
His voice comes soft, but just as full of commanding steel as Cain's had been.]
I, um, that is to say...what I desire right now...
[He swallows thickly. His silvery gaze sliding from Asra to Cain and back again. Then he lets out a breath, long and slow, acts before he has time to talk himself out of it.
His hands reach out to curl into Asra's clothes, tugging him forward, until abruptly he's kissing him, soft mouthed. Heated but slow.]
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He realized in a dim, almost hindbrain way that he should care about the answers to all those questions.
But he just knocked back the tea with a low, appreciative noise, set the empty cup aside so hard it chipped the base, and started pulling his shirt off over his shoulders, was dropping it to the ground while crossing the distance like a storm rolling across the plains. ]
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