☆ Event: Mirror Mix-Up

[moustre]

Event Log: November, Mirror Mix-Up

The 20th of Noveuer starts out innocuous. The Looking Glass House is quiet and still at this late hour, largely empty but for the apprentice Witch dusting the many mirrors on the walls in the middle of the night. When the bells chime for 3 am, though, a night of tidying turns into something... a little more hectic. He panics, initially, as things push through various mirrors to scatter across the floor, and then animals, scurrying about, unhappy with their current change in locations. He clings to his duster and waits apprehensively for more Mirrorbound to slip through, prepared to run and get Miss Nessie, but the minutes tick by, and none come. Eventually, he can't ignore the mess any longer, and flees to fetch someone higher up to deal with this nonsense.

I. Early Morning Message The initial hours after 3 am are a bit of a nightmare. Miss Nessie is unavailable, stuck in a long Parliament meeting with Mhairi that has continued into the early morning, and her assistant, given new duties lately due to her packed schedule, is sent to speak with her. It's a bit of a cluster, everything - they've never had something like this happen before! Then again, they'd never had people come through either, until the first group of Mirrorbound several months ago. She gets away long enough around 6 am to make a magical announcement to Mirrorbound only, her voice, at a casual speaking tone, carrying across the city enough to be heard anywhere. "Good morning, Mirrorbound! So sorry for disturbing you at this time of morning, dears, I am. It's just that we've had a bit of an incident in the Looking-Glass House last night! How strange, what I'm hearing, how bizarre. If you would all please report to the Looking-Glass House at your earliest convenience, we believe we may have some things of yours, we do. The sooner the better, as- well, some of the things come through the mirrors last night must be pets! They're terrorizing my poor staff. Now, I won't be the one to greet you, I'm afraid, I'm still quite wrapped up with Parliament, but I hope you'll all be kind to my Assistant Theodore and his Bonded, Sowilo. They'll be making sure everyone gets their things back. Theodore might be a bit buttoned-up, but he's a good lad! Bye for now, dears, I must away back to my meeting, but rest assured, we will be looking into today's unexpected surprise!" After it's been heard, the message cuts off - it's impossible to miss unless one is trying very hard to miss it. Miss Nessie's duties will keep her away during this event, but limited NPC interactions, IC or handwaved OOC, are available with her newly-minted assistant Theodore Rosethorne, and his Bonded Fae, Sowilo. In the future, anything requiring Nessie may also be brought to Theodore! The NPC Contact page will be updated in the next few days to reflect this change. There may be a slight delay on Theodore's responses, but all NPC interaction requests will be answered as soon as possible.

II. A Bit of a Mix-Up It's a red-headed Fae in shoe-lifts who arrives first, glamoured to look perfectly put together despite his long hair being up in a haphazard bun, having been dragged out of his bed to deal with a crisis this early in the morning. He immediately starts directing efforts, red dragonfly wings occasionally flicking with irritation as he reads things off a clipboard and directs this to be piled there and that pet to be corralled before it crashes into something or sets something on fire. The other Witches are a little apprehensive about his presence, but when one protests, he just says with a scowl, "Excuse you. I am Bonded to Miss Nessie's right hand man." The efforts to reunite incoming Mirrorbound with their possessions and pets are... well, an effort is made. Sowilo may just shove something into your arms and announce in an authoritative voice, "You look like you could use one of these." He hears no arguments that it doesn't belong to that person, brushing them off with a haughty, "Well, find the owner, then, make yourself useful, hm?" Before he flits on to the next Mirrorbound, the next item or creature, eager to get rid of everything cluttering up the Looking-Glass House. Fae. Sometimes they're just like that. While the Witches are bustling around trying to get everything sorted out (it's impossible to match things to mirrors, but an attempt is made anyway), it's easy enough to breeze past them and survey the goods on your own, but no one will be allowed to leave with more than one item or creature in their hands or pockets; Sowilo has a sharp eye, and attempted theft will result in an illusion being placed on the thief of being trapped in a maze with their worst nightmare. It lasts until the extra item is returned or will otherwise dissipate after three days. Those that can see through illusions naturally or through practice get a stickier punishment - literally, one of the Witches present will, when prompted by Sowilo, charm the thief with a glue-trap spell, which will cause them to stick to everything except what they're trying to steal - again, until the extra item is returned, or until three days have passed. There isn't much warning about the punishment for attempted theft. The rumors have it that Sowilo's family are descended from Unseelie, and he's... a pain in the behind, to put it lightly. As a reminder, all mixed-up items should eventually find their way back to their original owners unless explicitly plotted out otherwise!

III. Late Morning After a couple of hours of Sowilo's "management", Theodore Rosethorne finally arrives. One quick glance and the poor Witch already looks like he's going to faint. Miss Nessie's assistant is a young Witch who seems to hold himself as prim and proper as possible. Clothes neat and straight. The only thing that seems to be impossible to tame is the mess of curls on his head. He takes the clipboard from his Bonded, but seems at a bit of a loss. Mirrorbound arriving later in the morning are much more likely to get an item that actually belongs to them, though mix-ups may still happen. He gives the best smile he can offer before adjusting his glasses. Exasperated. "I'm quite sorry. Terribly so. If it isn't too much trouble, it would help us greatly if you could find the original owner. I only just escaped digging up documents from Miss Bell's desk..." Needless to say, the poor guy seems to have been thrown into the thick of it and already overwhelmed. Oh, and about Sowilo? "I apologize. He's...Well, he can be a lot when you first meet him." Or a lot in general. Sowilo is quite the character! For those having trouble finding the original owners of whatever they've been given through more conventional means such as word-of-mouth or the Watches, a quick spell is taught and passed out in slips of paper meant to be stuck to the item in question - it acts as a divining rod, pointing the item toward the owner and pulling the person holding it along for the ride. Careful! The charm has no mind for things like walls and doors and people in the way, and will always try to pull the holder in the shortest possible line to its owner. This isn't much help for pets, though, who have minds of their own, and, in some cases, just don't want to be corralled by strange and somewhat-frantic Witches or Monsters.

Welcome to November's event log! Regains arrive through the mirrors ICly on the morning of the 20th. Questions can be found HERE, and if you wish to interact with Theodore and Sowilo, our newest NPCs, comment HERE. You have the option of handwaving the IC interaction to OOCly ask what questions your character might have for them, for us to summarize an answer for, or you can request an IC thread. Simply specify in your comment's subject and we'll respond accordingly. As always, feel free to use this log or make your own!

Comments

[hearthebell]

[L prides himself on noticing things; more specifically, things that are important. The blanket scarcely registers, and even if a skeleton possessing one would raise some interesting questions, in this chaotic mixed-up environment there's a decent chance that it's not even his.]

Back underground? What is that like?

[Important or not, sometimes, admittedly, L just likes to know. His gaze follows Papyrus' to the mirror.]

[spaghettimonster]

[It's a familiar mirror, to Papyrus - one he checks on every time he passes through. L might notice it's less dusty than many, since he wipes it down whenever he visits. And there may still be a piece of paper tucked in between mirror and frame. But only Papyrus sees the decorations in the frame that remind him of home.]

Subterranean? Cavey?

[Synonyms are a great way to buy time as he thinks.]

I mean, it's not a little cramped cave, like that cave the Wilders visit. It's a whole long network of caves! Big enough for a big city. And lava fields, and waterfalls, and forests. Some of it's crowded...

And there aren't good roads for horses. Too many gaps.

[hearthebell]

[Good grief, L hasn't even touched his mirror since arriving. Is it possible for a skeleton to have obsessive-compulsive tendencies? Or is it just that sentimental to him? He wonders just what Papyrus is looking at, to inspire such fondness and nostalgia.

He wonders what that's like. Though L's been all around his own vast version of Earth, living constantly out of a suitcase and sampling the sweet delicacies of his ever-rotating locales while not setting out and sampling the cultures or environments themselves, it would be challenging for him to think of anywhere, truly, as "home."]

How are they crowded? With wildlife? Population?

[If there are lava fields, that... probably has something to do with why horses aren't great options for travel.]

Are there roads of any sort, or more desirable options for transportation?

[spaghettimonster]

[It might just be, a little bit. Though his routines are more a matter of being a stickler for cleanliness, liking his life and things arranged, and less a matter of fearful rituals for the sake of avoiding terrible consequences... usually.

His regular mirror cleaning is, as much as anything, an excuse to look at shapes from home. Magic attacks, like bones and spears and little bursts of fire. Familiar scenery, like flowers or buildings among trees. Shapes like distant, blurry versions of people he knows and misses.]

There's roads, sure. The city's crowded with roads! And buildings, and mostly people. Outside the city...

[The complicated machinery of the Core, and then the steam vent pathways over lava. Terrible.]

They're a lot windier. Gaps, and twisting turns. Not very desirable at all! But, well, updating them takes time. And you could always ask the Riverperson for a boat ride.

[He's prevaricating, and hard. It's a little fraught to explain, to a human, that the difficulty was partly by design, for fear of murderous invaders.]

Besides! Terrible transportation's a tradition.

[hearthebell]

[L's fingers fidget with the riding crop in his hands as Papyrus speaks. It's interesting to him, even if he has no context for a lot of this, and no real reason to retain any of this information in the long term. It's not like the Underground is ever going to get him as a visitor, after all.]

A wildly impractical tradition... unless it was intentional, of course.

[L's a bit quicker on the uptake than most humans.]

[spaghettimonster]

Uhhhh...

[He's noticed that about Linden, but this may be the first time it's been turned so pointedly on something Papyrus was trying not to say. Phew. Is it hot in here, or is Papyrus sweating for some other reason?]

Well! I don't disagree! But, that's traditions for you. Wildly impractical all the way down.

[Papyrus is sincere in believing that, at least. To his mind, practical traditions aren't called traditions, they're just things you do because they make sense, and you don't need to think about it. Traditions™ are things you're supposed to do despite them being nonsensical, and you can't help but be aware of the dissonance.]

[hearthebell]

It implies sentiment, which is not known for its practicality. But some at least have their reasons, even if you have to go back a very long way, or consider some things that would be foolish to believe anymore.

[He stares, a little long, without blinking. Unlike Papyrus, he doesn't have the excuse of no eyelids.]

How might such a tradition begin? If you're aware, I mean; I realize that it's quite possible that it was before your time and you're merely marching lockstep with customs you didn't help to establish.

[spaghettimonster]

[Papyrus catches the unblinking stare, and continues to not quite make eye contact. A few months ago, he might not have noticed - like skeletons, a lot of underground monsters don't have eyelids, or eyes at all. There's a lot of variety in expression. Here, though, most people are human or human-adjacent... and he's gotten used to the usual mannerisms.]

Yyyyes, you're right about that. Long before my time! Long before just about everyone's time, that was ages and centuries ago.

[And the few he knew of who might remember before that time, well, living that long doesn't mean remembering all of it.]

It's a... relic of long-ago wars. Winding roads blocked with puzzles, so invaders would have a hard time of it.

[hearthebell]

[L's consistently satisfied when people confirm that he's right. There's some scoreboard behind his eyes, constantly racking up points, glad when they go up and childishly disappointed when they plummet.

He's visibly, even intensely interested at the mention of puzzles used for the purpose of defense.]

That was a significant problem, then. Invaders? But you said the wars were long-ago, so no longer?

[spaghettimonster]

Uh. No. Sort of? Look, it's complicated!

[Even as Papyrus says that, he realizes Linden's not about to be dissuaded from the line of questioning so easily. He sighs, largely and loudly, and visibly resigns himself to actual answers.]

The war never ended. Not all officially. We stopped fighting, because... we lost. And got banished. So there wasn't anyone to fight. Not that that's stopping anyone...

[He grumbles the last under his breath, still audible, before picking it up loudly enough it's intended to be heard.]

I think they expected invaders, but, invaders never really invaded. Except for... maybe ten people, ever. Or more like eight.

[hearthebell]

Complicated isn't generally an issue for me.

[Said as patiently as some desert reptile waiting for its next meal to chance by unawares. Fortunatley, Papyrus doesn't seem adverse to satisfying him in this regard, which is automatically a point in his favor from the mercurial detective's point of view.]

Eight's a pretty specific number. Were they spread out over time, or all fairly recent by your reckoning?

[spaghettimonster]

Well... There weren't any, for centuries.

[Which makes for a very limited sort of spread out over time, with the enormous gap in which there weren't any. More than enough for most monsters to have forgotten their fear, and let puzzle standards relax, and to greet the first human with welcome and hope.]

One day, a human fell down... But after a while they died, with the prince. It was a big tragedy. Years and years ago.

[Don't ask him how many, it's ambiguous.]

Then, spread out over those years... another seven showed up. I only ever met the last one.

[hearthebell]

What were they like? What was your opinion of this particular human?

[It's interesting to him, because if Papyrus actually hated humans, they wouldn't be talking like this, he's sure.]

[spaghettimonster]

Ummmm...

[No, there's no hints of hatred to his tone or expression. He hesitates again to answer, but this time to think back. With all the humans he's met in Aefenglom, truth be told he hasn't thought about that first human a lot lately.]

They were... quiet. Driven They really wanted to leave... and did what they thought they had to do.

[Again, not hatred. He thinks of them as a friend, but he's conflicted about it. They left several deaths in their wake, after all, and the leadership of the underground in turmoil.]

But, we made friends while they passed through! They counted on my guidance for the dangers they faced.

[hearthebell]

[It might be an odd set of circumstances. Odder still, feeling something other than pure animosity toward someone he's supposed to hate is something he can actually relate very strongly to. Conflicted feelings and all.]

And you were a good guide? Were your motives to help them from the beginning, or did things change along the way?

[spaghettimonster]

[Now, a lot of Papyrus' expressions are pretty easy to catch on to. His facial features shift a little, in similar ways to a human's skin, a lot of the time. But skeletal microexpressions aren't the same as a human's - there's plenty of little details lacking in the absence of muscles. And sometimes, like now, there's a sudden stiffness to his bone that most humans couldn't emulate, where nothing shifts but the bare minimum needed to talk.

Which doesn't stop the tiny bit of sweat accumulating on the sides of his skull from giving away his discomfort.]

Wow, are you sure you didn't ask someone else about all this...?

[It feels like being on the bad side of a questioning from his brother. One where he didn't have a friend's help in preparing his answers.]

I was a good guide. From the moment I started guiding them! But, yes, I started with a different motive. They were an invader, I was a sentry... You know how it goes. But I changed my mind.

[And only a few monsters died after the fact.]

[hearthebell]

[It's astonishing to watch. When L's sure he's gotten accustomed to the specific kind of uncanny valley that comes with talking to a skeleton, something else happens to force him to readjust once more. The sweat beads do it.

He keeps his own features still, attentive.]

I'm a somewhat intuitive person.

[A small attempt at the modesty that does not come naturally to him. L's shabby, but he knows that his brain is far from it.]

What made you change your mind? Was it one event, or a very gradual change?

[spaghettimonster]

...You're not kidding.

[If he weren't still used to his brother's uncanny intuition, even after so close to a year apart, he would suspect Linden of being a secret mind-reader. Magic here can probably be used for that, right?

Still, he sighs, conceding the point - and relaxing his bones again.]

Oh, you know. Gradual. I threatened and taunted them... They played along... And before you know it, my heart wasn't in the fight.

[Metaphorically speaking.]

It took a while. A walk through the forest... A fight... Maybe a few hours?

[Maybe a couple hours. Maybe less than two. But he's genuinely unsure, it's been a long time, and he hadn't been consulting his phone that often.]

[hearthebell]

[The somber stare L returns is the one of a person who does not kid often. And though magic can be used to read minds here, and it's far from L's weakest magical discipline, he finds he seldom actually needs it.

But then his gaze turns thoughtful.]

Do you think you were... lonely?

[spaghettimonster]

I... guess...

[Papyrus wasn't alone. He had his brother, his boss who was somewhat a friend, and his not-quite-imaginary friend of a flower. But maybe he was a little lonely. Outside them, people maybe cared about him in a general sense, but few sought to spend time with him or do anything with him.]

But, they were even lonelier than I could imagine!

All alone, walking through a sometimes hostile underground... Their heart was calling out for a friend. What could I do, but answer their cry?

[Technically, he could capture them, hand them over to his boss, and be the hero of the underground by giving the king the means to break the barrier. But it was easier for theoretical humans to be killed for power and freedom than one he knew.]

[hearthebell]

[L, of all people, can attest to the fact that being alone and being lonely are in fact two entirely different things.]

Like answers like... but also unlike. Sometimes, I've found that opposites understand each other in a powerful way.

[spaghettimonster]

The root of 'opposites attract'...

[Other than magnetism, and the phrase usually being associated with romance rather than friendship. Papyrus nods knowingly anyway.]

Anyhow! That's life underground. The human left, safely enough.

[With only several dozen potentially lethal fights between them and freedom, a few lives taken by their hands. As one might expect.]

And after, a few of us decided... To intercept any later humans? To protect them in a barricadeable area. We were renovating and everything.

[hearthebell]

[For someone who struggles to navigate relationships in general, friendship and romance admittedly have ways of blurring ambiguously. Such strong feelings ask for neat categorization, and evade it simultaneously.]

So it was a net gain, all things considered, and preferable that it happened the way it did?

[spaghettimonster]

[Testing his sense of morality through it all, in facing the human...? It had led to his swearing off hunting any further humans, rather than chasing the dream of popularity through the guard, and been both a let-down and a relief. But a net gain...]

I think..! Well. Us monsters lost all the collected souls... So now, everybody's stuck for real.

Toriel told me, it's important to protect the humans... Because they only really needed one soul. One would let one monster out... That's enough they could go get more. From the humans. Who, didn't even remember we were at war? Then a lot of people would get hurt...

So. I think... Yes, it was a net gain.

[hearthebell]

[L raises an eyebrow, accepting the complicated answer the way the skeleton seems to think of it as ultimately good.]

This has been illuminating. I'm glad to have met you, and thank you for humoring my questions.