Intro Log: May

[moustre]

Intro Log: May, Game Start

I. ARRIVAL Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. A moment later, you feel a tug, and you find yourself stumbling into a dark, musty room. Behind you, a mirror stands ornately decorated with reminders of home wrought in brass and wood: the faces of people you know, and symbols important to you; all things that send a pang through your chest with the desire to return to them. Touching the mirror's surface does nothing but leave the stain of your fingerprints. When you turn turn to survey the room, you find there are hundreds of other mirrors. None of them are as decorated as yours - they're plain and dusty, speckled with age. Then you realize a second thing: You're not alone. Distantly, the ringing bell of a clocktower can be heard. But no matter its distance, the time is clear to make out: it chimes three times, stark, resonating like a pulse of something in this mirrored hall that you and many others have found yourselves in. For those familiar with magic, they might feel the power of the witching hour upon them, though it will feel different from what they're used to - in fact, everything does. Besides the new arrivals, however, there's one more person in the building, and only one. A young teen stands; previously bored and mulish, he's now owl-eyed and slackjawed as he takes in each arrival, either from the mirrors or coming from another floor as you try to get your bearings. In his hands he's clutching a broom like a security blanket, until - "M... Miss Nessie! Miss Nessie, something's happened!" he yells, as he drops the broom and turns tail out of the building. Leaving the Looking-Glass House makes it obvious that the clock striking three was for 3 AM - the night sky is clear, but the stars are dim in the face of two moons, regardless of their waning crescent phases. Follow, or explore the rest of the mirrored halls you've now found yourselves in? The Looking-Glass House is rather nondescript two-story cottage made of grey brick, sitting at the edge of The Coven's courtyard; stones which glow as you step on them mark the path to and from the two buildings. While fairly small and plain on the outside, the inside has been enchanted to be the size of a large library, with hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors hanging, standing, and resting inside its walls. Some are broken, some are cracked, and some seem completely uninjured - but all of them are just as plain as the cottage itself, showing age in the silver beneath their glass and in the greening of their metals... Well, all except a character's personal mirror; to characters, one mirror - the one they came through - will be decorated lavishly with metal-and-wood-wrought reminders of home, and the surface will be as clear as a brand-new mirror.

II. "MISS NESSIE" Whether you've decided to follow the hapless young man, or decided to explore the rest of the Looking-Glass House - and perhaps finding a few familiar faces among the crowd - you feel a pull towards the foyer of the first floor. It's like a firm suggestion, as if to take you by the hand and draw you to where it begins, and the source of it becomes quite apparent upon finding one's way to the front room: a tall, comfortably-dressed older woman and her even taller wolfish companion. The woman covers her mouth with a soft "Oh my!" as she surveys those who begin to crowd in, and she turns to the werewolf (?), lowering her hand once more. (The handful of others who'd come with her peer as best they can from a ways behind her with unconcealed curiosity, closer to the door out than not. The boy previously seen before he ran off can be spotted at the very back of the group.) "This is right unexpected, isn't it?" She not-quite whispers, delight and confusion in equal measure in her voice. Her companion makes a quiet noise in her throat, unscarred eye narrowed - it's hard to tell if that delight is one shared by both parties. "Well, they've always said the veil is thinner during Boaltinn... We'll have to talk to James and see if he was doing anything other than cleaning, we will, but for now, we've got a full house to attend to, don't we? Ah, if they're all Witches, that'll be something, it will!" Without wasting another beat - much to the fond irritation of her companion, certainly - the woman turns back to the newcomers of Aefenglom, clapping her hands together in glee. "Well then! I'm certain you all have many, many questions... As do we! First thing's first, though, first thing's first! I am Nerissa Bell, the Head Witch of the Coven - that's where this house is located right now, on Coven grounds - and this is my Bonded, Mhairi Ainsley. Don't worry, she's a right softie despite her looks! You can simply call me Miss Nessie - everyone does, short of those stuffy folks up in the Parliament, but, well, that's just how things are with them, I suppose." She pauses a beat, for breath, before continuing with a wave of her hand; dozens of chairs and stools, all surprisingly comfortable despite their wooden looks, are conjured in an instant, and Nessie smiles wide as she gives a small bow. "Take a seat, and let's get familiar with one another for a spell! The city'll celebrate without us one way or another, and we've already finished our business for tonight anyway. Isn't that right, Mhairi dear?" Despite the onslaught of information and excitement at three in the morning, Mhairi inclines her head slightly after a huge sigh; her voice is likely exactly as expected, low and akin to a growl. "Best to take advantage of the distraction. Let's begin, before I have to report this to Parliament." NOTE: If you wish to interact with Nessie and Mhairi, please 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.

III. THE COVEN After an hour or two of general chaos, questions that the natives attempt to help with, and injuries tended to for those who arrive in poor condition, a solution is presented. Though they certainly can't answer every question, Nerissa and Mhairi promise to help find the answers, and open the doors of the Coven to all new arrivals in the Looking-Glass House. The walk from the quaint cottage to the imposing structure ahead is lit only by magic provided by Miss Nessie and the Witches accompanying her, as well as the path of stepping stones coming aglow with each step that's taken across them. Beyond the courtyard, with its high, opalescent walls, a city can be seen. There are torches accompanying the flickering light posts outside, and the sounds of life clear even this far from the heart of Aefenglom, something that sounds like... merriment? Festivities are in full swing, even this close to dawn. The rest of the world continues on, even though you've arrived, confused and perhaps missing a few aspects of your usual persons. But while they certainly weren't expecting to spend the festival like this, the Coven has worked as quickly as it can. Their doors, decorated in cowslip flowers, are wide open - welcoming to the public, and to new arrivals as well. The Coven's main building has a surprisingly large front room, compared to its outside; the ceiling stretches ever onward, with stairs of the solidly-flush-against-the-wall variety and floating-ethereally-in-the-middle-of-things variety both. Magic and mundane intermingle as if meant to, with brooms inscribed with runes to clean making quick work of dirt and dust, shadowy figures opening and closing doors as people enter and exit, plates of snacks drifting around as if carried by invisible servers. The brooms are especially attentive to the door as new arrivals step in - they don't apologize for knocking into anyone, and really, anyone particularly scruffy will get swept at until the brooms are satisfied. None of this seems to mind the Witches coming in, with small murmurs of gratitude given to the busybody brooms instead of reprimands. Doors lead this way and that, on higher floors and on the ground floor, but runes glow by their frames in indecipherable patterns. Peculiar-looking devices - watches, the native Witches explain, compliments of Parliament - are passed around to all the new arrivals; they're given a quick rundown on their functions and bid to test them out when they can, and Nessie waits for things to calm before she steps up the floating stairs and addresses the room. "We'll see to it you all have lodgings for a bit, we will, but for now, the festival's still going on - if you couldn't tell!" She laughs a little, hands on her hips. "There's nothing we can do about things right now, so you might as well enjoy yourselves, you might. If any of you want to stay in 'til morning though, well, we can provide - just mind your manners, magic's real particular about them. At least," she winks, head tilting with the motion, "that's how I teach all my classes, it is." Those deciding to stay will be lead to doors that seem to follow no real pattern by native Witches; the rule is "two to a bed," so get cozy with the person next to you. They're the ones you'll be sleeping with tonight. The beds aren't too small - enough to accommodate at least three humans - and they're fairly comfortable too, for their old-looking age.

IV. BOALTINN For those who journey out into the city, they'll be sent off with a word of warning to keep out of trouble from Mhairi, to find everything still quite lively - and still quite unaware of what's taken place. There's very little left to the shadows, with dim light filling in the gaps between the flickering streetlamps and the extra candles and such people have put up themselves. Curiously, small bonfires seem to follow a pattern, culminating into a wide plaza in the center of the Residential District where a larger, brighter one burns, with people dancing around it, their clothing jingling softly with little bells hanging from their hems. The same is mirrored on the direct other side of the city - the only difference is in who's dancing. The Eastern Bonfire has more visibly humanoid beings enjoying themselves, while the Western Bonfire has creatures more monstrous in looks. Regardless, they all seem to be happy- And the reason is this: Boaltinn, a festival lasting the next two dusks. The nights and early mornings are filled with flickering firelight, while the morning and daytime have all but the small fires leading the way to the giant bonfires extinguished; the bonfires, however, stay lit. - and in general, it seems the city is quite happy, quite cheerful, and quite close. a. The Bonfires The main attraction of Boaltinn, as they are with any fire festival, the bonfires on each side of the city are tended to by various Monsters every hour of the day. While much of the scenes are similar - there's plenty of food to be shared, with those partaking in it cowed into sitting with someone else regardless of how familiar they might be, and children of all kinds play together and invite those sitting or watching to come too, in all manner of games, such as jacks, hopscotch, and running ribbons around the tall poles at the bonfires. But there are marked differences, too. The Eastern Bonfire primarily has humans or those that can pass as humanoid in attendance, and they're much friendlier to those who look similar to them; to those that look a little more monster-like, though, their replies are far more curt and their shoulders colder. The area around the bonfire is also littered with trinkets and baubles, all shiny and new and utterly forgotten by their playmates; the ribbon poles are similarly new, made professionally as if by commission. Characters are invited to try and jump through the bonfire's flames to burn away any poor relationship experiences, be it romantic or platonic, past or present; to aid them in this, those at the Eastern Bonfire will give those participating rune-etched accessories to protect them from the fire. Meanwhile, the Western Bonfire has primarily those who are more monstrous in looks, and they're similarly friendlier to those who resemble them, with a similar brusque and cold manner to those who look more human. The area around the bonfire is carefully kept clean, however, and the ribbon poles look handcrafted from lumber and grass, with tightly-woven knots and clumsily-made paper decorations. Those attending here are also invited to jump through the flames, but no such protection is offered; it's simply assumed that, as a Monster, you're likely much better at handling a little fire. b. A Little Entertainment It isn't only the bonfire celebrations that one can participate in, however. All throughout both the East and West Residential Districts, as well as a portion of the Shopping and Entertainment Districts, there's a number of stalls, stands, and stores available for perusal. Take a gander at the rest of the city and find something to do. Of note: Divination readings are available in various stalls, set up by Coven-official Witches as well as homegrown ones, with tarot cards that vary from pristine art pieces that one would almost hesitate to touch to the personally drawn and cut. They offer free readings, enticing all who pass by to join them at their table. Good or bad, the cards seem to bring with them lessons and words of wisdom, interpreted expertly by those handling them... or as expertly as possible; some readings seem a little unsure and muddy. Regardless of belief, those who take part in these readings will suddenly find their day going either exceptionally well or incredibly poor, depending on the overall feel of their reading. Carts and booths are available for one to partake in more food, however there's a stipulation to taking anything from these vendors: one must share this food with others, either in pairs or a group. While relations between humans and beasts seem to be a little frosty, they can be seen intermingling a tad more freely when it comes to this portion of the celebrations, sharing the treats and small meals that are being offered to everyone. The food available all seem to be those easy to hold in hand, not unlike modern-day food trucks; of note, the thin pancake wraps seem to be the most popular, with a bubbly drink similar to a milkshake filled to the brim with drinking straws for best sharing experience coming in second. Flavors are plentiful and varied, though they err closer to the fruits, vegetables, and spices side of the spectrum. Finally, the more pleasure-based businesses offer the chance to relax one's weary feet and take a chance with a little aromatherapy with their rose baths. While traditionally this had its roots in imbuing the bather with good tidings and blessings for the upcoming seasons (or so they'll say when asked), nowadays, it's simply become a luxury treatment for those needing a little TLC. The waters here do have the added bonus of making those who share them friendlier and more talkative with their partner(s) - and yes, all baths are a shared experience. Rather than being split by sex, baths are split by monster and human; co-ed bathing exists for those who don't mind mingling with the opposite species, and if really pressed, they can offer separate baths for different sexes, but their focus seems elsewhere. c. Impulsive Compulsion Throughout the whole festival, new arrivals, particularly those with magic talent gifted to them by the world, will feel like they can do anything and will push themselves to the limit. While not inherently detrimental, those who feel it will become more reckless, their inhibitions lessened and impulses heightened; trying new things is easy as pie, with any thoughts of fear left far in the back of their minds. While magic is highly discouraged on festival days, given their rest day quality, those under the spell of Boaltinn's madness will feel the temptation to try some anyway, regardless of knowing the proper way of performing it - perhaps it's about time to try out what one discovered in that strange dream... Those found doing magic will get a firm scolding, but no actual punishment; it's only looked down on, and they'll be cautioned against using too much. If any property damage occurs due to reckless magic use, however, there are fines; those without any money to their name can be recruited to pay it off by working at the buildings and stalls they may have accidentally damaged, serving people, looks, or whatever else the business might offer.

Welcome to the intro 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. The network system is free to use once characters have their watches as well; information on that can be found at the bottom of the Setting page, while any extra questions about it can be found in the FAQ index. Quests can be picked up now as well! While technically most of them won't start until after festivities, you can go ahead and put your name on some by replying to the May Quest Pickup thread on the Quest Board. Finally, 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

[rowdyraven]

[At first there's only confusion in him, thick and heavy as the night, when each move he makes to catch up with the magician only ends in Asra being further away. Julian's stride is longer, but Asra moves with fluid grace whilst the redhead feels unsteady from drink, clumsy and slow.

Confusion then, at first, but it soon gives out around something else as he realises the shape of the game-- there are feelings in him, high-wheeling inebriation, a recklessness so bright it glows, and if he'd had reservations a moment before, they give out around the thrill of the chase now.

Soon he's laughing, whirling, led astray, the heat of the flames left behind him as he chases Asra through night-glimmering city streets, between booths and the scattered crowds. And then in the end, emboldened, he pushes himself to move faster on those long legs of his, to make a grab for him for the darting form before him, trying to stop Asra in his tracks.]

[halfheartedmagician]

[It shouldn't feel as nice as it does, darting through the crowds with Ilya chasing after him, whirling past surprised and amused faces, feeling light and delighted as the twin moons light their path and stars flicker above.

He can sense when Ilya pushes forwards to reach for him, and Asra turns on his heel to face his pursuer as the fingers catch at his clothing. His foot slips from under him but he grabs for Ilya and drags him down as well, both of them ending up in a heap on the grass under the brilliant night sky.]

Hah- those long legs are good for something after all.

[rowdyraven]

[His hands close on the magician's shoulders and his lips part around a cry of triumph, one that abruptly gives out around surprise as Asra falls, takes him with him. His back hits the cool damp of the grass and the air rushes out of him with a soft oomf, face turned up towards the glittering and unfamiliar stars.

Then he's laughing, a sound like molten gold, and for one bright moment there's no sign of clustering darkness, or heaviness in him. Only the lit-up recklessness and intoxication of a brilliant festival night..]

Now there's a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one.

[He says it, but his voice is free from bitterness.]

[halfheartedmagician]

[Asra laughs at that, enjoying the lightness in Ilya's voice, stripped for a brief moment of the darkness bought on by the plague, their time spent with Lucio as the city died around them. It's... nice, and the thought alone is sobering and his smile fades.]

How long are you going to punish yourself, Ilya?

[Asra rolls onto his side to look at the other man, the damp grass releasing a rich, green scent in the cool night air.]

Is there ever a point where it will be enough?

[rowdyraven]

[Asra's question comes, and the bright exuberance of moments before begins to seep out of him like blood from a stab wound. Silence stretches out between them, pulled taught as a bowstring, punctuated only by the rise and fall of Julian's chest as he catches his breath from their reeling, wild chase.

His face is still upturned towards the dazzling firmament, but his expression, it turns inward. Darkens around the edges.]

Who's to say? Things have been...better, lately. All that trouble that started with Lucio, it's over. It's done with. But...

[But--]

I may not have killed him, but I'm guilty of plenty of other things. Too many to count. I would have thought you of all people would be all too happy to point that out to me.

[His voice is bitter-edged, though almost as soon as he says it, regret floods through him like a wave. There'd been no need for it.]

[halfheartedmagician]

[A shadow crosses his face, the words stinging although well-deserved. He hadn't been good or fair to Ilya, even now in this new world they've been thrust into. But he can't seem to get his throat to form an apology, still some hurt that he can't seem to let go of.]

...that doesn't mean I want to see you hurting yourself. Or worse.

[It's the best he can manage at the moment, although Asra is painfully aware it's far from enough. This sort of conversation is difficult and painful and he's not even certain how he feels towards Ilya now. It's been so long...]

It... doesn't mean that there aren't people who care about you either. People who care like you deserve.

[rowdyraven]

[His own feelings, they're convoluted things. They've lost some of their old edge, in the wake of everything. He's begun, he thinks, to move towards a kind of acceptance. Knows - or thinks he does - that he never had been what Asra wanted and all the different ways they had ripped and torn at each other may still stand there like silent ghosts between them, but three years ago, it had been a strange and difficult time. They'd both been a little younger, both thrown into something bigger, darker, than they'd bargained for.

And all the old longing might still be there, just below the surface, but Asra has his apprentice now - the very thing Julian took from him with the ugly depths of his own neglect - and this is something he can accept.

But to hear him say it-- that he doesn't want to see him hurt himself, that there are people who care like he deserves. Well.

This time, when he laughs, it lacks the golden warmth from before.]

I don't deserve much of anything.

[halfheartedmagician]

[He goes quiet, a pained expression crossing his face. He doesn't agree with Ilya, wants to reach out and try to convince him otherwise somehow, but he doesn't know what words he could offer that could change anything.

Instead Asra sits up and cards his fingers through his hair, reaching out to coax Faust out of his bag and stroking his fingers against her scales gently.]

...do either of us?

[rowdyraven]

[Now there's a question. For a moment he doesn't say anything, thinks it through-- the Asra he'd known, back then...he'd been duplicitous, distant, often cruel, but those were the very things that drew him to him in the first place. And then bringing their apprentice back from the dead, their memories sliced away, something less than they had been...was that right, or good?

But still, these things, they hardly measure up to the depths of Julian's own sins. The death on his hands.

He turns to face Asra finally, means to answer him, lips parted around a response--

--but the unexpected sight of Faust makes him gasp, eye widening, body visibly flinching in surprise.]

Oh! Hah. Faust. I didn't um, I didn't see you there.

[Don't look at him.]

[halfheartedmagician]

[Normally Ilya's discomfort might get a smile or a chuckle from him, as would Faust's immediate wriggle of delight at the sight of a familiar face. But it just makes it more apparent that there's no happy voice in his head. Only silence now, and Asra sighs and stands.]

It's getting early. You should find somewhere to sleep, Ilya. It's... been a long day.

[rowdyraven]

[He sees it there, sliding around the contours of the magician's tawny face-- a dark shadow of darker feeling, and given that Asra's thoughts are, of course, occluded from him, he can only assume that the fault lies with him. As usual. As always.

He turns his face back to towards the gradually lightening sky.]

I doubt sleep will find me this night, fickle mistress that she is. I'll stay on a while.

[halfheartedmagician]

[There's much to be said but they've both never been particularly good when it comes to saying it, and it doesn't help that Asra has always felt the need to keep his problems as his own. These new ones and what he knows of Ilya and his Apprentice... they're all too personal to share now, particularly after what he remembers of Ilya's response in their shared dream.

So he just nods and without looking back murmurs:] Goodnight then. [And leaves Ilya to his own thoughts and demons.]

ffs other Julian!!

[rowdyraven]

[For his part, Julian says nothing, silenced for once. Doesn't call after him, or move to stop him leaving. Only keeps his gaze trained ont he sky until the soft sounds of Asra's footfalls on the damp morning grass have receded into the distance. It's only then that he closes his eyes, hands moving up to scrub across his face. Kicking himself for all the things he did and didn't say. For getting things wrong, again and again and again.

The whole story of their shared history.]