EVENT - THE BLACK CITY

[faileas]

Event Log: August, The Black City

A STARLESS SKY You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the taste of smog and fog heavy in your lungs - and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. Unlike the last time this shared dream happened, only familiar faces of your fellow mirrorbound appear around you; and unlike the last time that flavor of dream happened, those native to the city of Aefenglom are nowhere to be found. Instead, an impossibly tall wall raises in front of you; along it run small windows with people peering from the edges, arrows shimmering with the tell-tale glitter of magic peeking from the darkness, with more figures standing guard or patrolling the top of it. The wall itself is made of a dark, onyx-like stone - it's reflective in the smoothness of its bricks, painting all who look into it in clear darkness, and the effect is similarly found in the wide moat that surrounds the city, the faint sound of a river feeding into it the only thing to hear in the tense silence. Only one massive door stands as the entrance to the city, chains hanging across it with the protective runes of a barrier some of you might be familiar with by now. With a groan the chains begin to pull away, the door lowering across the moat as a bridge, and a party of Witches - for they must be Witches, the pins on their cloaks the same as those found in the Coven in Aefenglom - urges the group inside. Monsters find it easier to obey the orders - compelled to, even - but perhaps that's the safety of the city calling out to you, and nothing more.

I. THE CITY ITSELF While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Unlike the citizens of the dead Aefenglom that were encountered just the month before, however, these are real, living people. They can be spoken to. They can be touched. They interact with wariness and caution towards the strangers that have been heralded into their walled in world, especially those that show what they presume to be monstrous traits. Because it becomes quickly obvious that the majority of the citizens that answer a call, a question, a touch to gain their attention... They're human. a. OBEY AND SUBMIT Monsters that can be seen on the streets aren't few and far between, however. Their presence is subtle, in the fog and amidst the passing crowds of passing faces, but they're there. On a surface level, most of them seem to be fairly at ease. Passive and unfazed by anyone that tries to interact with them, as if they're disinterested by their mere presence in a way that isn't reflected by their human counterparts. A closer look shows a strained pinch to their faces, a tenseness to their bodies, a glazed look just at the surface of their eyes. Too many attempts to interact with them will cause some humans to emerge from shops, or ask that you leave their business; these are the ones that are... employed, most often seen in the shopping and industrial districts. But their movements are almost robotic in repetition, and they never speak to anyone even when addressed - even when a keen eye might take note of the sturdy leather collars around their necks, reinforced by metal and with visible places to attach a leash. Some in the industrial district can be seen with these leashes, powerful chains to keep them attached to carts, to keep them from swimming down the river, from flying away and out of the black walls of the city. All Monsters present in the city are clothed, though it's the ones on the clearly decorative leashes with the more delicate collars that are the best dressed. They accompany humans throughout the city, the same placid blankness present much like their busier counterparts. These are the aristocrats and their so-called "Bonded," though implying the same tone one would take in Aefenglom here will net a deep set of disgust. Attempting to rouse these Monsters does very little, and may even result in them jerking away and cowering behind their human company. b. GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE At one end of the city is a massive pavilion, one made of the same stone as the wall, giving off the same oppressive foreboding. Humans come and go from this peculiar town square with a casual air, an intent the same as a stroll through the stalls on the market street. Because that's, essentially, what they're doing. Monsters young and old put on display to show their abilities and strengths, tasks that range from the physically demanding to performances of artistic abilities. Some seem to be just at the surface of awareness, their glazed expressions refocusing at times with a sort of strained fear that's visible even at a glance. Many don't even react outside of doing the tasks they're ordered to do, going through the motions as a barker speaks at length about them, their abilities, how much their labor goes for and what they cost. These Monsters are purchased by the humans of the city at each display, many of them never wearing more than their basic clothes and the customary collar, a chain to keep them tied to their station with a generous enough reach. Most come and go with very little struggle, but some... it becomes obvious that they've broken through the surface and are coming up for air for the first time in a long time. Wooden posts where the chains are connected can be heard splintering with the force of their struggle, metal bending under pressure, the anxious energy of something about to happen. But the fights never last long, as attendants wearing Coven pins on their cloaks swoop in to attend to the situation - and many dreamers might notice a familiar Witch filtering in and out of the events, speaking to the auctioneers before departing for another selling. It's difficult to recall their face later, no matter how clearly one saw it before, but one thing is certain: while not necessarily prim and proper, this person is someone with a steel spine and a sharp eye. And they saw you, just the same as you saw them. c. AT BECK AND CALL With enough observation, or perhaps even experience, it becomes apparently how this is happening: any command or order issued to a Monster is taken to the most literal, and Monsters have no choice but to obey. Many Monsters employed as workers are so deep in the compulsion that they won't obey any additional commands, unless it comes from the person they have this most warped "Bond" with. Others will accept commands from anyone, even the mirrorbound Witches that have come into their city. Even the most asinine command is one that they'd obey, and one that maybe even you'll obey, too. Having a friend playfully tell them to shut up? They're forced into silence until told that they can speak again. Told to jump off a bridge? Best make sure you specify that you don't want them to jump off of a very high one, if you really want them gone that badly. Handstands, cartwheels, jumping jacks - but also, hurting someone, hurting themselves... one has to hope the Monster in question has a strong willpower, or it's a command that goes against one that's already been issued to them. But something of note is that mirrorbound Monsters of Aefenglom will find that they're also effected by this, though they're better able to fight the compulsion. Those with weaker constitutions may need help snapping out of the command, especially as a powerful command will be painful to fight against, and Witches will have to watch their words. Take care that your friends, your peers, the strangers you've arrived with, don't find themselves attending the auction block - it's a very real possibility in this place, with an unknown Monster unattended and uncollared. It should all be harmless, though. After all, this is only a dream... isn't it? No NPCs are available for this log - unlike with the midsummer dream, they're nowhere to be seen. No Nessie, no Mhairi, no one. Which means that there's no one to counsel them as they find themselves exploring the setting, and discovering that they're just as susceptible as the people in the dream...

II. THE COVEN Unlike with Aefenglom, there isn't a proper Parliament. A little investigation will lead to the discovery that the Coven of this city is the main governing body, which may explain a great deal about why there's such a massive presence of magic here. Located at the center of town - all roads lead to the Coven, a massive stone building with sharp looking spires - the grounds are notable in that there's nothing even remotely similar to the Looking-Glass House that everyone has come to know, despite its secrets. Should one gain entry to the main building of the Coven itself, they'll find that all the mirrors are within. Their main focuses of magic, rather than the more broad spectrum/free-to-study policy that Miss Nessie encourages, are enchantment and abjuration - for control, primarily. They're also heavy studiers of runes, visible across the city and with an even heavier influence in the wards of the Coven itself. They are, regardless, fairly welcoming to eager young minds wanting to learn. So long as the Monsters are left behind. But who's to say that you can't disguise a Monster? a. STUDY TIME Those curious about the Coven's library are welcome to investigate it for themselves, the Witches all smiling faces as they usher their visitors in. But they'll soon find that they aren't really left to their own devices; a member of this Coven branch is practically around every corner, and while they try to be subtle about their observation it becomes quickly obvious that they're not there for their own studies. They're stationed around the library to ensure that their guests don't make off with any of their resources, or try to get into any forbidden sections of the expansive library. Where the Coven library of Aefenglom - as well as the Undermael College's library - plays devil's advocate, with accounts and studies conducted from both sides of the anti-Monster sentiment and attempt to expand upon outdated knowledge... these ones have a decidedly anti-Monster lean in every regard. Any attempts to find otherwise will be met with bemused amusement by the Coven members, and a note that they don't carry such things here. After all, they're certainly not Aefenglom. They would never carry anything that could put their citizens at risk in such a way. Nevermind those horrid Bonds that Bell goes on and on about - it's no wonder that they're always at odds with their government. If only they'd wisen up, hm? Perhaps these new arrivals would like to transfer to their branch, instead, to better guarantee their growth. b. THROUGH THESE HALLS If one manages to slip away from the library without having somebody tailing them, they'll soon discover that the chilled atmosphere doesn't simply linger in the city itself. The halls are cold, the runes unwelcoming unlike the homey feel that Nerissa Bell's charms offer. Certainly home isn't perfect - and there's no denying that the sentiment is shared by many - but the smiling faces of the Black City's branch are at odds with the feel of their magic, the caged in weight pressing down on everything, including your shoulders. The halls are dimly lit by flickering lights, enchanted lanterns with a constantly burning yellow-white fire. Plenty of nooks and dark corners afford even large Monsters the ability to sneak through the halls, should they be snuck in for better investigation with their peers. Take care, however; there are Witches coming and going constantly. An empty room might lead to a study, a classroom, a bedroom. Locked doors don't yield easily, even in a dream, and may need to be abandoned. But a terrible, foreboding feeling emanates from large double doors that are rigidly locked. Hushed voices speak from the other side, and it's almost like the cold feeling that spreads throughout the Coven itself finds its source behind those doors. Periodically, sounds of pain escape from within - but they die out to whimpers, then silence, before they can ever get too loud. A crisp voice speaks only one word, clear even through the wood and the magic: "Again."

III. THE DARK UNDERBELLY There's always more to a city than the streets that you can see at the surface level. If you're looking, it's not hard to spot the signs. There are runes that mark walls and cobblestone streets like graffiti, and a studied eye might realize that they're not the same sort that have subjugated the more monstrously inclined of the Black City. These are intended to dispel magic, and the moment that a member of the Coven notices it - it's swept up as soon as possible, scrubbed clean or scorched off with magic. People take to the streets in small groups, standing their ground and raising their voices above the muffled din of a foggy city. They carry chains and collars that have been broken, but many of them are undeniably human as they confront something that has so obviously become the norm. Break the chains! they demand. Break the spell! Monsters go missing from the auctions with a well-placed distraction - perhaps you're one of the individuals being freed from the pavilion, or someone that's realized that there are people coming and going through the crowds, wearing the same cloaks as the Coven but without their iconic pins, dressed as aristocracy, from all walks of life... smuggling the Monsters away at the first chance. a. PARTY TO PROTEST Not every uprising can be swept under the rug at first sign, however. Witches take to the streets, looking surprised to see the mirrorbound arrivals from Aefenglom - and it's not the same wariness that most would give them. This is the calculating eye of someone assessing whether the person they've met will help or hinder, and some of them decided that you're to be help. Enchanted slips of paper are pushed into hands, runes are taught as quickly as possible in a hushed whisper and explanation, locations given out to Witch and Monster alike with a word of caution. Use the paper on a surface, any surface, and you'll see. Use the runes to break the compulsion - you might have to do it twice, thrice, however many times it takes to dispel the magic. Don't be caught. Using the enchantment as instructed - pressing the paper against a wall, the ground, a post, anything - will result in glowing runes overtaking the surface. It's the same as the runes that are taught to Witches, used to ward against the magic in place just as much as it is to create a statement of protest. If one goes to a location that is whispered to them, they'll find that they've joined an organized protest. It's small in size, a mixture of Witches and unleashed Monsters. Due to the size and frequency it's easy enough to find them, but the guards are very quick in putting them down or hiding any traces of them from the public eye, despite the protesters' best attempts. There's nothing amiss in the city, and nothing for citizens to worry about. b. REST AND REGROUP But they can't find every source of the resistance. It isn't hard for dreamgoers to find themselves swept up by these protesters. Any help is welcome, and those that show an inclination towards helping the Monsters of the city - or their Monsters that they know, regardless people that shouldn't suffer this way - will be taken into the fold. Entrances to their secret routes can be found in places that are hidden in plain sight. A storefront tended to by a Monster with eyes in sharp clarity when they look up from their robotic work welcomes a group of people in and behind the counter, to where a hatch door is hidden in the floor. A manhole cover is pried up, where people are smuggled down below. A portal is prepared, a different and darker destination on the other side. They all lead to the same location. The sewers are vast beneath this city. Much like the labyrinth that many faced in the Midsummer nightmare, it almost seems winding, endless, and the water is cold when it's crossed. But even with the stank of the runoff, the musty and moldy air, there's never the sense of dread, of death. Instead, there are signs of when you're going the right way - runes that shimmer only when looking at them out of the corner of your eye, or when you know what to look for. Three stars together - sometimes overlapping, sometimes circling each other, but always three, and always five points. While they appreciate the help, the mirrorbound aren't invited in by the revolutionaries to the main hideout. But it becomes obvious by charm bracelets, necklaces, piercings, tattoos, embroidery and stitching on shirts; this symbol, and its presence, is integral to their world beneath the city. But many are welcome to mingle throughout their circle. In the sewers, the shops, the small park where a rune gives secret announcements to those who know where to look for it on the third bench, even the homes of people that certainly don't look like revolutionaries, let alone anyone that would be a protector.

Welcome to the Black City! As a reminder, this takes place on August 18th - or rather, 3AM on the August 19th, much like the midsummer nightmare. If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Characters are allowed to try and start fights in the city, create prompts based on the information given instead of using the ones given exactly, and poke their noses where they don't belong - we encourage it, actually. But regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!

And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.

Comments

1b

[gunsmithed]

[ The entire thing is grotesque, but if there's any chance of figuring out what is going on in this terrible place, it's to be found by watching and waiting. Percy's found himself standing silently amongst the crowd gathered at the auction, watching with an unreadable expression. Whatever he might want to do at the moment, he knows full well what happens if one man tries to cause a fuss. And it's not as if he has access to the sort of money that would take care of things in a quieter way anymore.

But it seems some others either haven't learned that particular lesson, or else don't care. He catches sight of movement in time to see a light-haired woman storming towards the auction block, and Percy has enough familiarity with bold stupidity to be able to read her movements. He reaches out as she passes, catching her elbow to try to keep her from getting father. ]

Don't.

[ It's low and clipped, trying not to be heard above the roar of the crowd. ]

You won't help them like that.

[freeing]

[ Daenerys has seen displays like this before. As a conqueror and khaleesi with three dragons, she was able to do something about it. As a young woman, afflicted with a curse that begins to change her body? There is not much she can do. It was an act of her heart, of impulse that pushes her through the crowd. Fueled on anger and the need to do something, it was not until Percy catches her elbow that she spins to face him – defensive and caught off guard with a rush of red to her features. Embarrassment or anger? Hard to tell. ]

Take your hand off of me or you will lose it. [ An empty threat. Ser Jorah was not here for his sword and her hands were as brittle as paper, she thinks. Her glowering expression was unbecoming of a beautiful woman like her, yet for a dragon? Maybe. ] No one else will do anything – they are being sold like animals.

[gunsmithed]

I noticed.

[ And it's clear by Percy's expression that he's not any happier about it than she is, even if he's managing to lock it down better. The threat is easily ignored, though he does loosen the grip he has on her slightly instead, drawing a little closer to be better heard. ]

But storming up there isn't going to do anything but get you more attention than I think you want.

[ His eyes linger for a moment on the flicker of something shimmering at the skin of her throat, almost like a scale. Something complicated flickers through Percy's expression, gone a second later. ]

Think it through.

[freeing]

I can not stand by idle!

[ Her arm recoils back, desperate to be released from his grasp. Though her feet may skid against the ground with a hasty backstep, she keeps her gaze focused on him. ]

Someone has to do something –

[ She's ready to fight him on it, make a scene if she has to off her own anger that boils inside of her. It's been an odd few days, a growing rashness that only comes out most fierce since arriving here.

The sudden words that leave his lips are certainly a command masked in a sympathetic plea. Dany feels a logic wash over her, her temples tighten and eyes feel heavy. She has to think why her barging up is a bad idea and she feels disgusted that she is now advising against it.

She's silent, stewing on it as she was told. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ It hasn't occurred to Percy that his usual unthinking demands carry a bit more weight at the moment, and he lets go once it seems like she is actually considering the issue. He still presses a little further, trying to impart as much logic as he can now that she's listening. ]

Are you prepared to fight the entire city? Because that's what will happen. And even those you're fighting for might not thank you for it.

[ It's all too easy to get entrenched into even the worst systems. But Percy just shakes his head. ]

It's a good thought, but a frontal assault does no one any favors.

[freeing]

I would have not long ago. They would have seen justice first hand.[ She had an army, dragons, advisers willing to die for her. A purpose. A goal. Here? She is getting by on minutes turning to hours – there is no end goal except to return home. This is different than Meereen – there is no sense in showing them another way, right? She keeps brewing with anger, despite have learning from others that this is not the way. ] What do you suggest I do then? You offer restraint but no reprieve to my ambition.

[ Can't take the fire out of a dragon, even if she's mostly human except for maybe a few scales visibly catching the light from under her collar. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ One of Percy's eyebrows lifts slightly, though exactly which part he's reacting to is up for debate. He's toppled a regime or two of his own, in his time, though Percy's never tried to do it by himself. Still, it's a noble thought, he has to give her that.

He lets out a long breath that isn't quite a sigh. What would the others do, if they were here? ]

You want to free them? Break their chains when no one's looking. Maybe some will go with you. Maybe some won't. But putting yourself in their sights does nothing but put you in danger.

[freeing]

[ Daenerys was heated by an anger she couldn't quite explain. It had bubbled up – even if her logic tried to pry her from taking steps towards the stage. An anger to burn this entire city to the ground seemed reasonable - even if for only the briefest of moments. She was fortunate that someone caught her or her neck would easily be bound by chains too. ]

I do. [ Quick, defensive. Of course she wanted to free them. However, he puts things into perspective. Does well to calm the flames under her collar. ] They're being sold in a public display, if not here – our options are limited. Most of them won't even speak to me unless their masters deem it alright to.

[ It is dangerous, she knows. Her voice resonates defeat. ]

[gunsmithed]

Once you've been ground down enough, it can be easier to consider staying there.

[ There's something almost absent in the way he says it, eyes gone faraway for just a second before they snap back to her. ]

They're being sold here, yes. But not all of them are kept so open.

[ His head tips slightly to the side, where waiting monsters are kept chained. Still out in the open, but not quite in the middle of this crowd.

And maybe it's a mistake, redirecting her obvious rage rather than trying to smother it entirely. But it's the best Percy can think of in the moment to keep from getting all of them killed or worse. ]

[freeing]

[ She doesn't accept that... She knows that there are times where one has to choose to survive, she had done some rather... interesting things to do so, but how could one agree to a life in shackles?

It weighs on her, visibly. ]

I – [ The vision of the chained monsters still hits her and she takes a step to the side as if trying to get a better look. ] I am not expecting them to slaughter their Masters...

[ She narrows her eyes, back to the group and then to Percy. ]

...Could we purchase them? I have no funds or magic. Do you?

[ It wasn't as if her rage was completely snuffed out, but, he did say think it through. ]

[gunsmithed]

Magic? Technically.

[ The expression Percy makes might be a smile, even if it looks more like a grimace. He really does need to set himself to learning better, doesn't he. ]

Money, no. Not here.

[ He could bankrupt Whitestone a dozen times over for this, but in this place he has neither the reach nor the resources. It puts to mind the old days, though he's missing a few people at his back. And gods, he does miss them. ]

[freeing]

[ Her suggestion was idealistic at best. It was enough to put some form of hope in her heart. Would she be able to save them so simply, by beating them at their own game?

Not quite, but Percy does earn a lop-sided, small smile as if it was worth a shot. Disheartened, but not out – ]

What type of magic, ser?

[gunsmithed]

[ One of his eyebrows raises slightly, but her smile does make him relax just a little. At least she seems to be feeling something other than frustrated rage, which is a start. ]

Enchantment, mainly. A few other things. I wouldn't call myself particularly skilled with any of them.

[ Nothing that would help this particular situation. For a moment, he almost misses his older, darker skills. Though he's not sure that even that would be enough to charm everyone here. ]