Entry tags:
- * event,
- dragon prince: viren,
- elfen lied: kaede,
- fe: azura,
- ffvii: zack fair,
- ffxiii: oerba yun fang,
- fgo: antonio salieri,
- fgo: arthur pendragon,
- fgo: cu chulainn,
- fgo: cu chulainn alter,
- fgo: ozymandias,
- fgo: scathach,
- fgo: wolfgang amadeus mozart,
- fsn: archer (emiya),
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- good omens: aziraphale,
- harry potter: theseus scamander,
- iris zero: asahi yuki,
- loz oot: zelda,
- lwa: ursula callistis,
- mc: steve rogers,
- mc: tony stark,
- mtg: liliana vess,
- original: asura,
- original: sokie undertown,
- resident evil: chris redfield,
- rwby: emerald sustrai,
- sekiro: wolf,
- star ocean: nel zelpher,
- steven universe: peridot,
- the witcher: geralt of rivia,
- trails: elliot craig,
- trails: rean schwarzer,
- trails: towa herschel,
- vampire: the fledgling,
- voltron: allura
☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities
I. THE TRIP OUT
She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE
While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. |
II. DORCHACHT
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. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas."
There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY
Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly.
Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. |
III. AEFENGLOM
Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear.
The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS
While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES
The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom. |
Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!
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"Yeah," he sighs, then rallies himself and his good humor. "D'you have a room somewhere we can sneak into? I'd been hoping to be more romantic about this."
Which is both joking, and not, because even if it's only temporary it's significant, and Myr has an appreciation of the significant. "Though your hair will have to languish unbraided until I've got use of my arm back," more's the pity.
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He can make a room for them.
"This way!" he declares leading Myr to the nearest nook of a spot, certain it's not some unpleasant ally, but nicely out of they way for them. He takes his arms from Myr's to rummage about in his jacket, taking out seeds a plenty and tossing them around. Magic! There's some effort required, but he's been practicing so much of his growing magic while here, it's nice to show off more! Suddenly, rose bushes tall enough to block them from onlookers, appearing just like an impressively large plant to an outsider. Nothing suspicious here, folks.
"Rose bushes to obscure us, my dear, and!"
Everett plucks the first rose to blossom, snapping away the thorns, before taking Myr's hand and placing it in his palm. A short bow of his head and he'll kiss the top of the man's fingers, curled around the stem. That should do it for romance, he hopes, "A rose to mark our bond, red as the kind I first sprinkled upon your head!"
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Lesson learned: Never, ever joke around Everett unless you'd like your expectations startlingly fulfilled. If Myr could stand there blinking at the turn of circumstances, he surely would; he takes the rose when it's given to him, looking more than a little moonstruck.
Not as if he wouldn't do something this--extravagant, this abrupt, if he thought he could get away with it, but--wow.
He's going to have to step up his own game next time with the gestures. Here's that blush you love so much, Everett. "I, ah." ...Oh, the potion. He's got to get at the potion out--he only has two hands. "--you don't do things by halves, do you, dearheart?" he manages at last, leaning his staff against his shoulder so he can capture Everett's hand with his free one and just...hold on a moment.
It's been a long two weeks without his friend, the past two days especially trying. Reasonable he'd be a little blown over by the gesture. "You've captured romance itself; all I could ask more is a chance to sit in your lap a little while and remember you're solid."
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"Despite my age, Myr, I assume you I will be fully solid if you should do that," He takes reaches to take another flower, pulling the petals off, and tossing them over Myr's head with a flourish.
This is what you signed up for. The most romantic gesture he can think of, whiplashed right into him being an absurd nonsense man.
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Here Myr is half-to-melted at the compliment and then Everett goes and--takes exactly the opening he left. He groans, still blushing, and just... trusts Everett's going to be there when he leans forward to rest his head against the other Faun's chest. Thunk.
"Stepped right into that one, didn't I," he mumbles, chagrined. "In which case I oughtn't tease you s--ow."
He moved his arm wrong. For all that ow is mild it's heartfelt, as is the way he blanches; that...hurt. That really hurt a worrying amount. "--I think," he manages after a moment, "we'd better use the potion. Right side of my pack, middle pocket, in the third pouch along the side, if you could."
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"Yes, yes, right away. No straining yourself!" he'll angle around the man's antlers to get the potion. He looks it over a bit before uncorking it to smell, ever curious.
"All we need do is drink this," he'd done so with Lux and Sokie, in neither case was their any romantic intention over it. Everett threw it back like a shot at a bar. Myr is different, though, Myr gets no half measures if he asks for sweetness. Though, more honest than that, Everett laughs further "I had so much time to think of what to say! Here, any thoughts I had have escaped me."
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"Right. That seems simple enough. S'pose there's ways you could make that--make that very romantic. With our arms looped together and both our hands on it." He pauses and draws a breath, then another, then straightens up and puts on his usual grin for the taller Faun.
"You'd forgotten my aura of 'Making Everett Speechless,' had you? For my part, I'm beyond pleased to tie myself to such a thoroughgoing charmer, who can flatter me so prettily even by forgetting his words. To say nothing of his empathy and...solidity.
"You're a fine man, Everett Vaughan."
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"As are you, Myrobalan," he can't leave it at that, "I look forward to our union, while it may last. Each moment I spend with you is one I cherish. Each laugh and tear you've brought out of me is a gift. Know that I long for your company, when you are not with me,"
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He clears his throat against how it's apt to close with tears he can't shed any longer. "Then let's drink to that, and not being parted so long ever again, can we but manage."
Here's the part he'd been so fearful of and yet somehow, right now, Bonding doesn't seem so terrible. If they do it quickly amd he doesn't lose his nerve thinking of how it would feel to lose Everett's esteem. (But so long as he'll have me I'll do whatever's in my power for him, and even once he won't, I would...) "You first," said warmly--and wryly, "age before beauty, and all."
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That should be immediately apparent, as the shared empathy bond forms between them. Everett's demeanor is no facade, he's a genuine and kind man. Springtide just suffer from a suspicious, sinister energy.... it came along with not having very strict morals, only manners.
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That he definitely does not feel, Everett will know, when Myr's side of the Bond shivers alight in a burst of excitement. The elf's anything but calm over there, sparking with the expected restless curiosity (how will this feel what is it like what can we do together) and nervous energy (what if--) and bubbling upwelling of adoration to match Everett's own (--he sees me).
It takes him a long moment to register what's happened, and another to untangle his Bonded's emotions from his own-- To realize all that affection and romantic intent is meant for him. Even though he trusts Everett completely at his word (and that's there, too, in the Bond), it's worlds different to feel the exact emotion that gives rise to the kind words, the embraces, the sweeping romantic gestures.
Someone feels like this about him, in all his flaws, without knowing or caring who he was before. "Oh," Myr breathes, the bottle slipping from his nerveless fingers (the better to put that hand to his mouth). "Oh, Maker." How can he do anything but echo that love back, bright and shining?
The pain from his wounded arm is most decorous about putting on its appearance, not slamming into the Bond until after they've had that first moment of surpassing sweetness.
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At first, it's like finding an oasis in the desert, but he realizes it's not only that. It's a sudden, swirling storm of emotion that washes over the barren parts of him. Some lonesome part of himself is flooded and spring to life in all directions. Everything suddenly green and blossoming and new, rescued from the drought.
"Oh," he echoes, before it turns to something funny, something nearly laughing, "Oh, oh! Oh... Oh."
He does softly laugh, reaching to lift his glasses and duck his head into a glove, nudge away tears. That's the feeling of being moved. A good and peculiar feeling... and one he enjoys. He should expect nothing less of a connection with Myr, who trusts him and is curious about him and who cares.
"You do continue to bless me, m, my dear Myr. Every smile and tear a gift, and I've been given both!"
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It would move him to tears, too, if he had any to shed--knowing Everett had felt like that for Maker knew how long. He wraps the other man in an abrupt, lopsided bear-hug (wounded arm weaker than his good one, enough the difference is palpable) as if he could eradicate that feeling by mere touch.
"You'll have more than that out of me, dearheart." His voice is hoarse with emotion, muffled where he's got his face pressed against the taller Faun. More than that; oh, only be patient with me, I'll fight my own fear and shame for you. "You deserve the best I can give."
Thank you for this. Thank you.
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"You'll make a greedy man of me, yet," every bit of Myr's attention, he wants, he yearns for, and it makes him heartsick in all the best ways that can feel. It's strange for Everett, even still, to reconcile what he learned of love on his many travels and what he was taught of it in the Springtide. His emotions are all mixed up on the subject, but the fear that's there only emboldens and thrills him further.
"I will cherish our every moment bonded, I do so vow it,"
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A kind of myopia induced by the Circle, he's beginning to grasp now; they'd been all of his world but they weren't all the world that was. Whatever judgment they'd passed wasn't shared by all of Thedas, let alone everyone in the worlds beyond it; there were people out here who didn't know know any of who he had been and only looked at him for what he now was.
Only loved him for that.
He makes the smallest noise in the back of his throat as Everett kisses his temple, briefly overcome by the weight of his own realizations. It's freeing, and it's frightening, to know that there might be some hope for him here to grow beyond the wreckage he'd left of himself. To have the option of something like this--not only the option but the very real person of someone who cares... (How much worse it might hurt to lose it. But he'll get a chance to experience that, too, when their month is up.)
Hope, fear, pain swirl through their Bond and Myr's not entirely sure where he ends and Everett begins on the former two, but for now-- For now that's all right. He clears his throat, fumbling for words and not finding them. Not anything polished and witty, anyway. "Me too, dearheart. Wish that it were under better circumstances," as he'd said once already, "but me too."
He very much does not want to move from where they are right now, but the pain is getting worse. ...He's also reluctant to say that, because that would make Everett worry, and-- ...that's all...right out there in their Bond, isn't it....