Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whomthebelltolls) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-12-04 04:31 pm
whomthebelltolls) wrote in middaeg2019-12-04 04:31 pm
When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
Who: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower and OPEN
When: December
Where: All over
What: Catch-all for December! Snow, snowglobes, fighting some oogie boogies, and feasts. Not much mistletoe, though. She's not prone to it.
Warnings: A bit of blood and violence
[1: Does it kill? Does it burn? - Haunted Mansion]
[Well. This isn't so much different than what she's used to. The cold rain giving way to a blizzard of this proportion is certainly A Thing, though. It's been since Cainhurst that she's seen something this bad. Yharnam got a lot of rain, but tended toward that rather than any large amount of snow. Not that she thinks most people would've noticed, even if it did snow a lot there.
Well, it matters not. The Haunted Mansion is normally kind of shadowy and cold, but Maria's garden has been well-enchanted, so the grounds immediately around it are... mostly clear of the snow. In places, the wards fail for a brief period, and she can be often heard sighing as she watches the snow pile up on the plots for her plants. Inside, however, it's not so much magically enchanted as it is just sort of full of well-burning fires - naturally made, in hearths, and plenty of candles around when the power inevitably flickers and dies.
Anyone who wants or needs a stop over - or already lives there - is invited into the kitchen for some mulled cider (and a bit of rum, if they wish to splash some in there from the bottle next to the pot - Maria's cup is pretty much spiked the whole time.), or tea, or just a moment to shake off the cold and snow.
If they dare. After all, the place looks like something out of a horror story at the best of times; tall and imposing, with narrow windows set back into the facade, and spiky towers. The ivy that normally grows up the sides is mostly dormant for the winter, and all the winterized trees make it look especially haunted. But maybe the otherwise relative lack of snow is enticing... or the fact one knows who lives there and wants to brave it anyway.]
[2: Is it painful to learn that it's me who has all the Control? - Around town]
[Or maybe it's the opposite. Maria isn't afraid of a few... feet... of snow, anyway. So she bundles up in her hunter gear, and tromps out into the snow. The streets are mostly abandoned - honestly, just the way she likes it - as she sets out. Perhaps one runs into her in the few stores that remain open, hoping to eke out a bit of business from those brave (or foolish) enough to brave the winter weather.
Or maybe she's making a house call, if she knows the person well enough. She knocks the snow off her hat and boots before ducking through doorways.] It's not slowing down out there... [If only she didn't hate Cainhurst. She'd make a joke about it being just like home! Or maybe not, it is Maria, after all.]
[3: Does it thrill? Does it sting? - Snow Global]
No, no, it's... taller than that. The Astral Clocktower is built into the front of the front wing of the Grand Cathedral, but the tower stretches up far above the face of the clock itself. [She's explaining it to the crafter, who frowns a bit in concentration, and comes up with a new prototype. It's starting to shape up - the Astral Clocktower is an impressive thing, in the end.] And the front of the Cathedral is a large staircase down into the Central Cathedral Ward's plaza.
[Once they're out, though, it seems to become a bit of a commodity. Maria looks a bit bemused as, several days later, she sees yet another couple shaking theirs and setting the flurries about.] ... For as much as magic seems to rely on astronomy... I'm impressed they've never seen a star-reading clock.
[4: When you feel what I bring, and you wish that you had me to hold? - Modrainicht]
[And, again, Aefenglom loves itself a good, huge party, regardless of what else is going on. Mounting tensions among the populace? Doesn't matter, have a party. She has nothing to add to the giant potluck... and probably with good reason, because she's pretty sure nothing but the Vampires here would have taste for food that's been... imbued with Blood, and that's the only thing she can think of that's unique to her world. She doesn't even have the right type of Blood for it, anyway.
But, she'll partake, and enjoy the way the mood seems to have lightened up. She feels a few compulsions of friendly cheer as she mills about the place, but the mistletoe doesn't seem to stick when she's under it - that's on someone else to bring it up, because she's pretty resistant. Instead, she drinks the drinks, eats the food, and... sits down by a face - familiar or not - beneath the warmed tents. She picked up something from a serving dish that didn't look like it belonged, so it must've been brought in potluck style. She picks up a morsel of it, and puts it in her mouth... and immediately grimaces. Eugh. It's fish. The briny taste is immediately offputting. She's had enough of seawater and blood, thank you.
And with that, she slides the plate back out.] ... If anyone has a taste for fish, help yourself.
[5: Like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams - The Woman]
[If she hadn't been pre-warned by the Wilders about this she might have - okay, no. She never would have fallen for this. Not only is this one of the oldest folklore tales in the books, the baby is a dead giveaway. No one just carries a baby around in the woods like that.
Though the haunting, ethereal cries of the infant make her skin crawl, for reasons entirely related to her time at home. How unpleasant.
Maria's swords spark into fire, into life, burning down the edges, illuminating the area. It's trying to lure her out. Again, nothing new. She can only think it's that the people here live such comfortable lives that this thing has claimed so many lives. It wants to be hunted like a Beast, well, Maria hears the hunt calling... and she will answer it. The itch for violence has been working its way into her arms for some time, her fingers aching to take someone apart - this will be the perfect outlet for it.
And then, she holds her sword out, stopping whoever is coming up from behind her.] Shh. She's waiting in ambush. She thinks she's clever.
[6: Is there anyone out there? Cause it's getting harder, and harder to breathe.]
[Wildcard! If anyone needs her for anything, might wanna bounce ideas off of her for the infiltration thing she isn't going to be actively participating in, but is more than down for being tangentially related to. Or anyone being harangued by the Hunting of the Wren? She's more than happy to scare off the crowds if she knows you. Hit me up on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
Reslari on Discord at Reslari#9561 or at Maria's monthly plotting post here!]
When: December
Where: All over
What: Catch-all for December! Snow, snowglobes, fighting some oogie boogies, and feasts. Not much mistletoe, though. She's not prone to it.
Warnings: A bit of blood and violence
[1: Does it kill? Does it burn? - Haunted Mansion]
[Well. This isn't so much different than what she's used to. The cold rain giving way to a blizzard of this proportion is certainly A Thing, though. It's been since Cainhurst that she's seen something this bad. Yharnam got a lot of rain, but tended toward that rather than any large amount of snow. Not that she thinks most people would've noticed, even if it did snow a lot there.
Well, it matters not. The Haunted Mansion is normally kind of shadowy and cold, but Maria's garden has been well-enchanted, so the grounds immediately around it are... mostly clear of the snow. In places, the wards fail for a brief period, and she can be often heard sighing as she watches the snow pile up on the plots for her plants. Inside, however, it's not so much magically enchanted as it is just sort of full of well-burning fires - naturally made, in hearths, and plenty of candles around when the power inevitably flickers and dies.
Anyone who wants or needs a stop over - or already lives there - is invited into the kitchen for some mulled cider (and a bit of rum, if they wish to splash some in there from the bottle next to the pot - Maria's cup is pretty much spiked the whole time.), or tea, or just a moment to shake off the cold and snow.
If they dare. After all, the place looks like something out of a horror story at the best of times; tall and imposing, with narrow windows set back into the facade, and spiky towers. The ivy that normally grows up the sides is mostly dormant for the winter, and all the winterized trees make it look especially haunted. But maybe the otherwise relative lack of snow is enticing... or the fact one knows who lives there and wants to brave it anyway.]
[2: Is it painful to learn that it's me who has all the Control? - Around town]
[Or maybe it's the opposite. Maria isn't afraid of a few... feet... of snow, anyway. So she bundles up in her hunter gear, and tromps out into the snow. The streets are mostly abandoned - honestly, just the way she likes it - as she sets out. Perhaps one runs into her in the few stores that remain open, hoping to eke out a bit of business from those brave (or foolish) enough to brave the winter weather.
Or maybe she's making a house call, if she knows the person well enough. She knocks the snow off her hat and boots before ducking through doorways.] It's not slowing down out there... [If only she didn't hate Cainhurst. She'd make a joke about it being just like home! Or maybe not, it is Maria, after all.]
[3: Does it thrill? Does it sting? - Snow Global]
No, no, it's... taller than that. The Astral Clocktower is built into the front of the front wing of the Grand Cathedral, but the tower stretches up far above the face of the clock itself. [She's explaining it to the crafter, who frowns a bit in concentration, and comes up with a new prototype. It's starting to shape up - the Astral Clocktower is an impressive thing, in the end.] And the front of the Cathedral is a large staircase down into the Central Cathedral Ward's plaza.
[Once they're out, though, it seems to become a bit of a commodity. Maria looks a bit bemused as, several days later, she sees yet another couple shaking theirs and setting the flurries about.] ... For as much as magic seems to rely on astronomy... I'm impressed they've never seen a star-reading clock.
[4: When you feel what I bring, and you wish that you had me to hold? - Modrainicht]
[And, again, Aefenglom loves itself a good, huge party, regardless of what else is going on. Mounting tensions among the populace? Doesn't matter, have a party. She has nothing to add to the giant potluck... and probably with good reason, because she's pretty sure nothing but the Vampires here would have taste for food that's been... imbued with Blood, and that's the only thing she can think of that's unique to her world. She doesn't even have the right type of Blood for it, anyway.
But, she'll partake, and enjoy the way the mood seems to have lightened up. She feels a few compulsions of friendly cheer as she mills about the place, but the mistletoe doesn't seem to stick when she's under it - that's on someone else to bring it up, because she's pretty resistant. Instead, she drinks the drinks, eats the food, and... sits down by a face - familiar or not - beneath the warmed tents. She picked up something from a serving dish that didn't look like it belonged, so it must've been brought in potluck style. She picks up a morsel of it, and puts it in her mouth... and immediately grimaces. Eugh. It's fish. The briny taste is immediately offputting. She's had enough of seawater and blood, thank you.
And with that, she slides the plate back out.] ... If anyone has a taste for fish, help yourself.
[5: Like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams - The Woman]
[If she hadn't been pre-warned by the Wilders about this she might have - okay, no. She never would have fallen for this. Not only is this one of the oldest folklore tales in the books, the baby is a dead giveaway. No one just carries a baby around in the woods like that.
Though the haunting, ethereal cries of the infant make her skin crawl, for reasons entirely related to her time at home. How unpleasant.
Maria's swords spark into fire, into life, burning down the edges, illuminating the area. It's trying to lure her out. Again, nothing new. She can only think it's that the people here live such comfortable lives that this thing has claimed so many lives. It wants to be hunted like a Beast, well, Maria hears the hunt calling... and she will answer it. The itch for violence has been working its way into her arms for some time, her fingers aching to take someone apart - this will be the perfect outlet for it.
And then, she holds her sword out, stopping whoever is coming up from behind her.] Shh. She's waiting in ambush. She thinks she's clever.
[6: Is there anyone out there? Cause it's getting harder, and harder to breathe.]
[Wildcard! If anyone needs her for anything, might wanna bounce ideas off of her for the infiltration thing she isn't going to be actively participating in, but is more than down for being tangentially related to. Or anyone being harangued by the Hunting of the Wren? She's more than happy to scare off the crowds if she knows you. Hit me up on plurk at
no subject
[When it comes to the matter of death, Ozymandias has perhaps a bit of a complicated relationship towards it. He does not resent death itself. He does not begrudge those still among the living and even now has no desire to return. Unlike most of the Servants who have fought in their respective Holy Grail Wars, his purpose was never rebirth but to serve the purpose he was denied with the removal of his body from the Valley of Kings. So, to that extent, he does not particularly agree with her. Death comes for everyone eventually and having a better estimation of when is not particularly better or worse in his opinion. It simply is and how one chooses to conduct themselves in the face of it is really what truly defines it as better or worse.]
[But he does resent his mortality. That any body he has ever occupied has been destructible, has decayed and faded with time and age or through wounds delivered to him on the battlefield. That any part of him can be destroyed and erased. He supposes that is something he shares in common with most humans even if he doesn't see himself as one of them or his reasoning to be different.]
Any living creature could choose to dwell on such a thing, however. Even without the opportunity of returning to this life, living things are guaranteed only so much time in these bodies in any world.
no subject
Well, but she still can't say much. She knew the doom was setting in as she spiraled further into her own despair. She knew, and she embraced it. She knew, and she was more than happy to see if it would provide the long-wanted escape she wanted.
Then it didn't.]
But, he has conducted himself admirably for one who has found their time cut short, and his return will, I think, see him all the stronger for it. Not just as a Monster, either. [Less depressing talk. Less reminding Maria of her own fate, and how she's not sure she totally escaped it, just by coming here.]
no subject
Giorno has already made himself stronger by those he surrounds himself with.
[There was a time when he was first here that he did not seem all that interested in getting close to anyone, closing himself off before anyone had the chance to grow close to him. Ozymandias is pleased that Giorno seems to be making efforts to turn that around.]
no subject
[None of them do. Fugo knows more by default, of course, but the rest of them seem perfectly content to tiptoe around things like "the past" and too in-depth of conversations, because hey, who knew, a house full of serial killers tends to like to keep to themselves and have a hard time empathizing with others. Shocker.]
no subject
[It was ultimately a futile desire, as there are far too many within this city that would not allow him to remain so isolated. And it's that which Ozymandias contrasts with how Giorno's life is now. Even if those he surrounds himself with are not categorically "good" people or as strong of a positive influence as someone like Zelda, that matters very little in the end. Isolation is what makes one weaker, particularly if it is by choice.]
no subject
So she just maintains merely superficial relationships with people around her, at least in her opinion. Maria is not here to make friends, so she doesn't even try. Kanyeshrug.]
no subject
He has never struck me as one who does well on his own even if it might be at times his preference.
no subject
[Which is something Maria can sympathize with. She shouldn't be left alone with her own thoughts for very long, either.]