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

[silentsavant]

For whatever irrational reason, the thought of sleeping pushes dread through him. When he closes his eyes and falls for the lull of it, his world will fade away, Yako along with it. When he wakes up, where will she be?

But his more rational side kicks that childish fear aside, reminding him that she's not obligated to him to begin with, and that she was kind enough to stay by his side for even this long. He squeezes her hand, the remains of his childishness expelled through that venue of affection, his heart being squeezed along with it. It aches.

"...I should. This horrendous night will be over sooner." A pause, and then he lifts his eyes to hers, the longing present even though he doesn't know what to do with it, or even that he has a forlorn cast to his catlike gaze. "...But... you don't have to leave just..." He covers his next yawn with the back of his wrist and blinks away the sleepiness. "...yet. I will probably... drift off on my own accord. I've exhausted myself."

[topslug]

Yako isn't sure how to interpret that look, but when his eyes fix onto hers, she can't help but notice ... that sure is a lot of hair in his face. He has a lot of hair, in general -- and right now, it's all a mess. He's already well on his way to sleep, with or without her help, but she can do one more little thing for him, at least.

Konoe always seemed to care about the importance of grooming -- if Soren wasn't tuckered out, he seems the kind of person who'd have that meticulous a night-time routine as well. Without really consciously thinking about it, she reaches out to brush his hair out of his face and behind one ear, eyes fleetingly passing over the mark that is definitely not jam on his forehead before she gives him a small grin.

"You probably don't want to fall asleep with your hair all tangled up, right? Here--" She ducks down, rummaging through the jumbled contents of her bag, and triumphantly produces a comb. "Why don't you face that way and I can comb it out for you?"

[silentsavant]

Dull surprise seizes his expression, more at her sweeping touch than the fact that his bangs had been clinging to his face in a messy dark curtain - another thing he'd scarcely been aware of. Then, he averts his eyes, the heat ballooning up to his face depriving him of speech for a spell. That his appearance was slovenly had migrated to the back of his mind only to be pulled to the forefront. He finds he is only opposed in that the thought of her taking care of him makes him feel small and shy. But it's also an irresistible offer. And... it would help him look just a hair more respectable.

"...I... would appreciate it."

He curls his legs onto the cot and rotates his body in a sluggish, careful motion. "You may sit next to me, if it makes it easier..."

[topslug]

That makes sense, so Yako will take him up on that offer, standing up and seating herself behind him as she studies what she’s got to work with. Despite Soren’s hair teasing itself halfway out of its bindings, she decides it really isn’t that bad, and she’ll turn her focus first to freeing the ties in his hair.

“I’m going to take these ties out and put them on the side table, okay?” she warns, working them free in gentle tugs. After that, it’s patiently working the comb first through the ends of his hair, then higher, until she can run it from the whole length without any tangles. It’s a rhythmic, repetitive motion that’s easy to lose herself in, enough that she forgets to make conversation at all...

[silentsavant]

Which is fine. Soren doesn't mind the silence. The silky sift and faint crackle is soothing just to hear, like listening to distant thunder that follows rainfall. He falls even harder for the prickly satisfaction of being stroked, how her fingers hold strands of his hair as the comb, parts and smooths it. The cords keeping his hair fastened may have spared it from even more tangles. He always fancied his hairstyle for being elegant and efficient.

Most of all, he finds himself mollified by the small token of care in and of itself. To have someone look after him like he matters, even when he's not just a monster as society deems, but has the claws and unraveling humanity to show for it. He never knew how much he had been deprived of human warmth until this moment. Even when he had been with the Greil Mercenaries, he usually kept to and took care of himself, hardly needing or asking anything of anyone unless it was necessary to the company's upkeep, not himself. Even then, he hadn't always been the best at it — too focused or worked up to remember eating, burning the midnight candle for too long and losing sleep... Then there was the matter of his mental health, which he has only begun to really detangle. He never had the tools available to him, save the support of his comrades. Especially Ike.

He would often check up on him, just to see if he was remembering that he matters, too. And then there was his little sister, Mist, who did her fair share of pestering him out of her concern. His thoughts linger on her as the teeth run through his hair. He'd never let anyone play with it before, save Mist. As Ike's sister, she had certain privileges when it came to getting her way with him, and a fiery determination that is a force to be reckoned with. That was true when she wanted something, but doubly so when she set her mind on helping others. For a moment, he's displaced, and Mist is playing with his hair again, telling him how beautiful it is in the sunlight while he makes no comment, how it's so smooth and shiny and she wished her hair would grow faster.

He misses her, too.

Yako reminds him of her in that respect, just from the way their meeting panned out: a girl bold in her kindness. Whether it's the magical effects or not, Soren takes refuge in her presence, her proximity. He feels... safe. Somewhere close to home. His head nods as he slips into light slumber, rocked comfortably by those feelings.

[topslug]

Once she's realized that Soren is actually nodding off, Yako quietly finishes off her task, opting to leave his hair loose rather than still bound up. Shifting her weight so she's no longer behind him, she places a hand to his shoulder and exerts gentle pressure, hoping to coax him to lie back.

"That's better, isn't it?" she murmurs. "Now you can get some rest."

She wonders, briefly, what he'd been thinking about. Somehow, despite being right beside her at that moment, he'd seemed so very far away ... and yet whatever it was, it doesn't seem like it it's a thing that weighs him down. It's not a bad note to end the night on.