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

[tryhard]

All right then. He doesn't want help? Fine. Waver draws his hand back and crosses his arms across his chest instead.

"I saw them curse you." He'd heard enough of it too, and he has a pretty good idea he knows what the curse entails, though he's not sure if what he has in mind will work.

Worth a shot... especially since it's not him that's cursed. Still, he wasn't lying when he said they don't deserve the satisfaction. Even if they're no longer watching.

Waver pitches his voice a little lower, lifting his chin in the stranger's direction.

"Try walking backwards."

[silentsavant]

He can see where this is going, but even if walking backwards made him go forwards, it wouldn't undo the curse. Nonetheless, he lifts his foot and makes a concerted effort to back it up, but in the end, he still goes right where he intended to. His face is drawn in deep dissatisfaction. This is even worse, because now he can't go forwards under any circumstance. Not only is he going to sound like a complete idiot, but he'll look like one, too. And he won't even be able to explain himself!

[tryhard]

"Ah... Damn. I thought that would've worked."

Sorry, mate.

"I guess you just have to wait for it to wear off."

And now Waver just feels awkward for coming out here all confident he could outsmart those assholes, but instead now they're both just standing here uncomfortably, and he has no idea what to actually do. Crap.

"In all honesty, I don't know enough about magic in this world..." And he couldn't really see or sense it in the same way as he should have been able to, which is still one of the most unnerving and unpleasant things about this place. "...but it doesn't seem like the type of curse to last long."

Damn. He shouldn't have gotten involved. Waver looks around awkwardly, trying to spot any familiar witches from the Coven who might be able to help out.

[silentsavant]

Soren nods in agreement, the sharpness of his expression softening into more of its usual resting bitch face solemn severity. Watching him glance around gets him to steal a couple glances of his own, wondering what he's searching for out there.

...He really wants to talk, all of a sudden. Having the faculty of speech taken away from him is enough to make him want to engage in even the most vapid palaver if it means he could just... say something. How is he going to seek help like this? This boy here suggested pretty strongly that he can't offer anything but reassurance that it's a temporary condition. Being this way dredges up some unsettling reminders of when he was less than half the height he is now in similar straits. This is far less dire, but the reminder chills him all the same, like it has the power to transport a piece of him to that unforgiving time and place. He swallows, trouble tinging his expression almost imperceptibly, and tries once more to speak.

"Elbitapmocni yltelpmoc si cigam ym dna..." After that botched attempt at talking like a normal person, Soren makes a face like he had swallowed the pit of a plum and expels a ragged sigh to express his frustration. There. At least it's clear that he's not mute or refusing to talk to him for any other reason, if he couldn't hear him before.

[tryhard]

That looks just as uncomfortable as it sounds. Waver winces a little despite himself, mostly because he feels bad for the guy, but unfortunately, he really can't understand anything he said.

Waver shakes his head slowly. "Still cursed, then." He assumed his unlikely new companion was trying it out to see if it still affected his speech.

Worse, Waver doesn't see anyone recognizable around, and is in fact catching some leers and smirks from passers-by who would much rather see them humiliated and moving out than trying to help. He really wants to get out of here.

"What if you tried to write something down?"

Not that writing will let him walk more easily, but maybe they can at least communicate. Waver digs into his pocket, producing a small notebook and stubby pencil.

[silentsavant]

The hardness of his dissatisfaction softens into something more malleable with the faintest glint of anticipation as he wonders if the curse affected his penmanship, too. He takes the bound sheath of paper and its writing utensil, takes a quick shotgun second to nurse the rash on the back of his hand with fierce streaks of his nails, and presses the nubby tip to the paper. What had he been trying to say again? Oh, yes. He gets to scratching away in his tidy, elegant scrawl, perfectly comfortable with his very first 'language' when his second is disabled.

When finished, he flips it around to show Waver his results, more content than he'd been before.

My writing is spared of this curse.

Even if it weren't, he could still manage to produce a legible result, most likely. Still, it's much less frustrating and makes communication easier. It's also a relief that he's encountered someone literate. If only he'd been this lucky so long ago.

[tryhard]

Waver waits, resisting the urge to lean over and watch him write; his patience is at least rewarded with something legible, at last.

"Oh, good. That's some progress."

It doesn't solve the issue of him not being able to walk, or Waver's issue of being stuck here talking to this guy awkwardly until it seems like less of a complete asshole move to wander away or until the spell wears off, but it's marginally better actually being able to communicate both ways.

"If you try to look like you mean to do it, maybe you can even figure out how to walk backwards in a direction you actually want to go in? Where do you live?"

[silentsavant]

That's the obvious solution if he wants to avoid looking like a buffoon... but progressively, Soren's starting to realize he just doesn't care about what these nitwits on the street think of him. They're going to mock him whether he's going forward or backward.

He takes the notebook back to write his answer down and show him. I don't have a permanent residence. Then, he flicks his pencil to indicate he has more to add, then scratches more words into the lines of the paper. I might be able to find a Witch who knows a countercurse at the Coven.

[tryhard]

"Good idea."

Waver hesitates, not sure if he should try to extricate himself from this situation or actually be helpful. He doesn't have no empathy for this guy, considering he came over here largely because he hated the way he was being treated since he'd been treated like that too, but on the other hand, he doesn't want to make himself a target either.

"...er. Are you gonna try to walk all the way there like... that?"

Really, the better solution is for Waver to go find someone and bring them back, but he hasn't quite gotten up the conviction to offer.

Stop being a weenie, Waver.

[silentsavant]

The broken mage shrugs, his eyelids drooping in resignation. The longer he thinks on it, the more of a hassle it seems. Not only does he find himself unable to retaliate with magic of his own, but now his faculty of speech has been all but robbed from him in a foreign city. He's a target for harassment, and walking backwards would be like waving a banner asking to be punished further just for being here. It's... not a good feeling, especially not for someone with a history like his. He doesn't care to emulate it. Soren's head twinges as his recurring headache wedges back into his skull like the corner of a lead bar sinking in slowly. It might be worth shelling out a few cunes to improve his situation by this much. He pencils in his reply.

I want to purchase a ride back. However, I cannot speak to hire any services. May I borrow your voice?

If not his notebook... but Soren isn't absolutely sure just how literate the majority of this populace is compared to a city in Tellius. He points to a carriage stopped by the corner of the sidewalk to help convey where he is trying to go.

[tryhard]

Oh. That's a much more convenient idea, for both of them. Waver looks a bit relieved though it's not as if he has any real stake in this. It does give him an easy out without feeling like a complete asshole though, so he'll take it.

"Yeah. No problem. If you have the money, I can get you set up."

Waver follows his gesture to the carriage and nods. "Just a minute."

As promised, he runs off to go talk to the driver and shortly returns with the price.

"He said it won't take too long from here to the Coven, and he can flag someone for you there. I let him know you've suffered a temporary curse that means you can't talk." It's an easier and slightly kinder explanation than admitting it all just sounds like gibberish.