Event Log: May

[moustre]

Event Log: May, Moving Day

I. GATHERING The morning of the 15th is heralded by the sing-song voice of The Coven's coimeadai sidhe Nerissa Bell ringing through the hallways, seemingly unimpeded by the heavy doors or any silencing spells that have been placed in rooms. She asks that all those who arrived at the beginning of the month - not the new inductees, the ones from The Looking-Glass House - gather in The Coven's main room; she has some exciting and important news to deliver. 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 like cool moms and can be contacted through that as well, provided they aren't busy at the time.

II. 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 an 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. 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 To help with filling up the larger houses - and even some of the smaller ones, and the shared rooms in the barracks - the Witches left over from Nessie's group have come together to set up a little roommate finding service that will run for the week. 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 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. a. A LITTLE MISCHIEF While by and large the board will work as it should - a listing is filled out, put up, and read aloud for all to hear - for characters who aren't interested in doing some writing, or who can't for one reason or another, the board will take it upon itself to make one for them. It isn't going to be the most accurate at all, being either completely fictitious or based on a first impression from the board itself. This can range from "They have blue eyes, so you know they're a kind person!" to "How stand-offish, they must be a crook! A thief! A villain!" and anything in-between, including but not limited to: outrageous feats they may or may not have accomplished, poor hygiene habits, false accounts of incredibly embarrassing moments, and so on. b. A LITTLE HANDS-ON Not entirely content with just allowing people to write their preferences and call it a day, a few of the younger Witches have begun magicking small chocolates, hard candies, and bubble gum, and handing them out to new arrivals as a welcome treat. These aren't any ordinary treats though - they have one of three of effects: • 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!

Comments

[scaling]

[ Really, he couldn't have asked for a more reactive partner for his little show, unsuspecting though he was (or so Akira believes). The stall owner inspects the card with delight plain in her eyes and, predictably, asks the trick behind it. ]

Not magic. [ There's a hint of humor there. Magic might've been his response back in his own world, but here, it's so commonplace that the opposite seems more playful. ] That's all I can say.

[ She acquiesces, albeit with a smile, and passes over a deck of cards. This one goes into Akira's own pocket with a word of thanks, but he pauses rather than making his exit, glancing over at the guy next to him and then back to the woman. ]

Would something for my assistant be okay? [ Akira couldn't have done it without him, after all. Might as well pay it forward. ]

[digiorno]

[It's unexpectedly charming that all this guy wanted was a deck of cards just like the one he was playing with. Then again, it makes sense. He's good at his not-magic tricks, and they clearly pay off around here. Still: pretty charming.]

[The way his eyes widen at the offer — request? offer? something — is a little more genuine than his reaction before, although the difference is minute. His gaze shifts to the stall's owner, who seems to be willing. He's hesitant for all of a second before greed takes over.]

[There's a lot for offer, but his gaze settles on a tarot deck wrapped in purple cloth. He glances first to Akira, then the stall's owner, and ultimately back to Akira again as his hand hovers over the deck.]

Is this all right?

[How the hell does this weird barter system work, anyway? Give him capitalism again.]

[scaling]

[ The item he goes for has Akira's eyes lighting up with a spark of curiosity. Tarot cards? Interesting.

When the shopkeeper gives her blessing in the form of a nod, he turns back to the other guy and offers one of his own. ]

Looks like it.

[ Transaction complete, he thanks the woman with a small dip of his head, and although he turns away from the offerings laid out across the surface, Akira doesn't just head off. ]

You're into tarot cards?

[digiorno]

[He actually doesn't expect for the woman to acquiesce; it seems like an expensive ask, but obviously he doesn't understand the system yet. As it turns out, she's happy for him to take what he's asked for. While he thanks her graciously, he also picks up the deck and holds it to his chest as though he's afraid she might change her mind. Which he kind of is.]

[At the question, he turns his head to Akira again, unconsciously turning his back to the shopkeeper to shut her out of the conversation.]

Um—

[Hm.]

A friend of mine is. He isn't here, but I thought it would be good to learn more about them.

[It's a lot more complicated than that, but it's not like he's lying. The main reason for this choice is sentimentality.]

Are you? I've never really met anyone else who is.

[scaling]

[ The parallel with the source of his own interest has an interested sort of smile touching at his lips. ]

Not personally. It's the same kind of situation. A friend back home reads fortunes for a living.

[ Well, also scammed people, but that's beside the point. The fortune-telling was the real deal, at least. ]

I used to have her read mine often.

[digiorno]

[Look. Sometimes you have to scam people to make a living. Or for other reasons. Giorno's been there! His reasons were that he wanted to, mostly. But still.]

[It's a relief that his reasoning isn't seen as strange, at least. His own return smile is cautious, but relieved, and his grip on the deck becomes a little less tense.]

I've definitely never met anyone who read fortunes for a living, but — as I understand it, my friend used to know someone who did. That's where his interest came from. So most of my knowledge is thirdhand, unfortunately.

[He tips his head a bit curiously.]

Do you think it was real? Like they say magic is here. [It isn't meant as an offense, as pretty much everybody he knows is a criminal or con artist in some fashion. In a way he's more offended by the implication that magic is real here, even though it very obviously is. That's just silly.]

[scaling]

[ It's too bad that neither of them really have an idea about how it works, but Akira can appreciate the sentimentality of him picking out the cards.

He regards the question with a thoughtful look, for now choosing not to comment on the apparent lingering disbelief of magic when there's every bit of evidence that it does here. ]

Yeah. [ There are a lot of things he wouldn't have believed in, once upon a time. Fortunetelling, magic, other worlds. Akira has certainly done a 180 on that viewpoint over the last year. ] I think a lot of it is fake or made to fit anyone, but hers were different.

[digiorno]

Hm. So something more specific than "You will meet a tall, dark stranger at some point in the next six months," or "on such-and-such a day you will have the chance for an investment that will enrich your life and your pocketbook."

[There's the hint of mischief glittering in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't want to believe in magic or the supernatural so much as that he would much prefer to just assume the worst in people. Most of the time, it's easier. And he certainly has come across fake psychics fleecing tourists with vague fortunes. There's a level of respect in that, in a backwards way.]

[Glancing down again at the deck in his hands, he rubs the cloth around it with his thumbs. He doesn't know why the deck is wrapped in cloth in the first place, but they all seemed to be. He should have asked.]

What kinds of things did she say, if you don't mind me asking?

[scaling]

[ The examples earn a soft snort. That's exactly the kind of thing that comes to mind at first, vague and easily interpreted in different ways. ]

She used to read people's fates, mostly. They would tell her their plans and she'd tell them how it would turn out. [ He reaches a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. ] It doesn't sound like much, but it was different from the usual.

[ It's hard to put into words why it seemed real, and even more so when he doesn't want to point out the things she predicted about him.

Well, actually, there's one safe thing. ] The first time I met her, she predicted that I'd receive 5000 yen when I got home, and I did.

[digiorno]

[Reading people's fates. That's a new one. It seems a little dangerous, now that he thinks about it, something that could actually be verified. Something people might demand their money back for, which no con artist ever wants. Akira is right: it's definitely unusual.]

[And speaking of money: he perks up at the mention of it. His conversion skills are rusty, but that's definitely more than one might realistically lose behind a couch cushion.]

. . . Did she plant it?

[Giorno that is such a suspicious way of thinking. And also just weird. But he has to ask.]

[scaling]

[ Akira doesn't find it too unusual a question, although it does earn a bit of a laugh. He really is a skeptic, huh? ]

There's no way she could have. [ Not only did he live a fair distance from Shinjuku, but it was also their first time talking. ] I could hardly believe it at the time.

[ But she went on to prove that there was definitely something there. ]

You really don't believe in any of this magic?

[digiorno]

[He opens his mouth to respond deliberately. Defiantly. With conviction.]

[—and then closes it again.]

[Because there's a difference between stubbornness and stupidity, between skepticism and willful ignorance. Magic is real here. That's not up for debate; it's simple fact. There's no way this entire reality was set up to fuck with him. Even his paranoia doesn't stretch that far.]

[No, the real reason he's resisting is that he doesn't like it. He doesn't think it's fair. It doesn't make sense, and it scares him, suddenly being the one without strange and unusual powers in a world just as fiercely against him as his last one was. Just as dangerous, but less comprehensible.]

[A faint frown forms between his brows, and he looks down at the deck in his hands again. Unwrapping the scarf, he focuses on the soft touch of the fabric against his fingertips. As he turns the deck over so the backs are facing him, beginning to shuffle them in a clumsy, unpracticed way, he shakes his head.]

No. I believe in it. I'm not stupid. It's just awful. [Congratulations, Akira, you get to see some petulance. This is the worst social link.]

[scaling]

[ Luckily, Akira is no stranger to petulance. He hangs out with an elementary school student, after all.

If anything, the stance is intriguing. Most people seem to fall somewhere in the spectrum of amazed to indifferent when it comes to the magic of the world they've landed in. To hear someone call it outright awful is different. ]

You think so? [ Akira watches him unfold the cloth around the deck, observes the way he handles the cards. ] It's a lot to take in, but I think it'd be useful if it's something we can learn to do.

[ Magic here seems to have a much wider range of applications than what he knew in the Metaverse, anyway. ]

[digiorno]

[Giorno's about as well-socialized as Shinya, so it works out, maybe. Although not as well for Giorno himself, who realizes quickly in the wake of Akira's response that he's already given too much away. The crux of the issue is one of fear and weakness, and he's got no desire to reveal that to a stranger, no matter how good at sleight of hand that stranger might be.]

Is it something you can learn to do?

[That's what he settles on eventually, as he cuts the deck on a whim, on impulse.]

Is it something they've said you have the capacity for? — Ah. The World.

[It doesn't look how he thought it would. There's real peace in the expression of the woman on the card, wrapped in her scarf with a wand in each hand. She seems powerful, but content. Not dangerous and cruel, as Polnareff told him his father's Stand was. So why did his father name it after this card?]

[scaling]

I'm not sure.

[ Some people have begun to transform, others are showing hints of aptitude for the kinds of magic native to this world—and then there's Akira, firmly in-between in the realm of normality. For once. ]

I haven't asked anyone, but I don't feel any kind of magic. [ Which he thinks he would? If it's anything like having Personas.

Akira is about to return the question, curious if he's felt any sort of changes or potential as well, but the drawn card catches his attention. He thinks back on Chihaya's readings, trying to recall the meaning of it. ]

The World is... completion? I think. [ Akira glances up. Maybe he knows better. ]

[digiorno]

Is it?

[His smile is faint and thin, fairly humorous. This seems like irony, probably.]

Like I said, I don't know much about tarot. I suppose I thought the World had a more negative meaning than that, but . . . then again, it's not inherently positive either, is it.

[He thinks about the photo in his wallet and slides the card back into the deck again. Cutting and stacking the deck together briskly, he gives a one-shouldered shrug and a more put-together smile.]

Anyway, I felt plenty complete before I came here, so I can't see how it applies. Did you? Feel complete, I mean.

[Did someone take something from this boy when he came, just the way something was taken from Giorno? How many people here have lost something? He assumes more than are saying it on the network, in any case.]

[scaling]

It depends on the context.

[ It's more complicated than that, anyway. Akira doesn't know the details of it but there's a flow of cards, things pulled in reverse, and all of it changes the meaning. One single card by itself can only say so much. Completion isn't inherently good or bad—it depends on the circumstances of the journey leading up to it.

The question is a heavy one, and one that Akira is quiet for a moment before he answers. ]

... More complete than I'd ever felt before. [ And yet, in so many ways, still incomplete. Like if he'd been able to stick around a little bit longer, he could've been so much more. ]

[digiorno]

That's not really what I asked.

[There's something knowing in Giorno's gaze. A little mean, maybe, in a self-deprecating way. Because of course he knows: more of something does not mean all of something, necessarily. Just because you're more of yourself than you've ever been before doesn't mean you're whole.]

[He said he was complete, and in a way he was. In power, he was. Theoretically, that's all that matters.]

[Whatever. His expression softens slightly as he slides the World back into the deck.]

I'm glad for you. It's difficult, isn't it? Making progress on being, oh — the most of yourself that you can be. [It should sound trite, but he believes it so strongly; it's clear in every syllable. It is hard to live in your own skin to the fullest. Maybe the hardest thing there is.]