TEST DRIVE MEME #17

[abraxasmods]

Test Drive Meme

Important Links

Setting ⦁ Game History ⦁ NPCs ⦁ Arcana ⦁ FAQ

Welcome to the Test Drive Meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of three different arrival scenarios below for your character to take.

If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective question threads.

The TDM is forward-dated to when the summonings occur in-game (when applications are accepted), at the start of April.

While the world is undergoing some tumultuous weather, newly arrived characters will be assured that everything is being taken care of and cautioned to shelter indoors where possible.

Summoning

You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying the last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.

You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.

There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. It's hard to make out any individual objects as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground - still unclothed.

Arrival

You'll find yourself summoned to one of the following three major territories: the extravagant and magical Kingdom of Thorne, the bustling and advanced Free Cities, or the tightknit and faith-driven rural community of the Solvunn Commune.

If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either. After a week or so, your abilities will return.

When you gather your bearings at last, you look up into a series of unfamiliar faces...and equally unfamiliar surroundings.

Go to scenario

Kingdom of Thorne ⦁ The Free Cities ⦁ Solvunn Commune

Welcome to Thorne

Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card bearing the image of one of the Arcana. An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at another mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. The man peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.

"One moment," he says, not bothering to look up from the tome. He looks tired. "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. We’ll explain everything in a moment, but for now, please calm down. You’re completely fine."

Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the pages, until he stops on one specific passage, stares at it for a moment, and then nods, satisfied. "Excellent." He motions for one of the young apprentice mages over. "Settle our guest in, please. I don't have all day."

The apprentice hurries forward with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals. With a wave of their hand, the clothes reshape to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, the apprentice leads you into the hallways of Castle Thorne, prattling on about the kingdom, names of royals and nobles, and, of course, the reason why you're here: the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.

◎ Surroundings

Castle Thorne is where not only royals and members of the court reside but includes the surrounding city itself. Now in spring, the weather is cool and marked by howling windstorms. In the distance, snow continues to cover the mountain peaks. Spring flowers are beginning to bloom in the gardens. The castle is enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature.

As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• Windstorms batter the walls outside. The city of Castle Thorne is largely safe, but debris, fallen trees, and toppled wagons are still a danger. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• The North Wing, devoted to housing the Summoned, is tightly guarded against outsiders. As one of the Summoned, you're free to come and go. The guards aren't keeping anyone prisoner. They're there to protect you, and they take their jobs seriously.


• Apprentices, kitchen staff, guards - everyone seems to be bustling. There's some buzz about the arrival of Admiral Rudolph Sidwell, the Queen's uncle. While Rudolph is temporarily staying in Nott, he can occasionally be seen in the castle halls when he visits Castle Thorne.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, Castle Thorne and its surrounding city have much for you to indulge in.

Sorting Tomes
A few apprentices out on errands have grown trapped behind some fallen debris, leaving the library short of helping hands. Volunteers are desperately needed to help sort and shelve the books, which are beginning to pile up. Fortunately, Thorne's magical shelving system means the shelves will immediately let you know if a book has been placed incorrectly. Unfortunately, the way this works is that the book will expel itself back out and fall to the floor. Watch your head!

Serene Steeds
Due to the heavy storms, Thorne's prized horses are growing nervous in their stables. To help soothe them, apprentice mages have asked you to cast a calming spell on each horse. The spell relies on Academic Magic. While the spell only requires saying a few words correctly, a lack of concentration can result in some unexpected memories or feelings surfacing, inducing strong emotions. You might vividly recall a tumultuous moment in your life or find yourself reflecting on who you are, where you came from, and where you might go next.

Painting Session
You're encouraged to explore Thorne's proud naval history in Borrel at its Maritime Fair. Because of the storms, it's being held indoors within heavily strengthened walls. Here, you can join a paint and cider session where you can follow a guided instructor to paint a displayed model of Thorne's famous naval warships. To finish your masterpiece, decorate the frame with Borrel's famous sea glass. The paints and brushes are enchanted to help you along, but it requires a little concentration. Growing frustrated with your progress might cause some splatters or turn the colors muddy. Not to worry! You can always start again with a fresh canvas.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to rest, you're shown to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (those who were previously brought in may have a great deal of information to tell you).

As an important figure to the kingdom, you can't move out of the city of Castle Thorne without permission or take any extended trips. If you're feeling restless, though, day trips to Nott or Borrel via portal are allowed, or you can visit Nocwich. Don't try to sneak out - someone will bring you back. Besides, Castle Thorne gives you everything you need: fine clothes, great food and wine, massive libraries, and all the magic and knowledge you could want. Isn't that plenty? You won't be given money as you're provided for, so if you want to do some personal spending later, you'll have to find a job in the city or you can earn some pocket money by doing chores around the Castle.

Go to top ⇑

Welcome to the Free Cities

Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a hard floor of dull ruddy stone. Men and women in unfamiliar uniforms of brown and red leather stand in a semi-circle around a small pool of water - the very pool you were just pulled from. The water is still now, rimmed in pale gold tiles with odd symbols etched into them. Across it is a raised pedestal with a card bearing an Arcana symbol.

A guard covers you with a simple robe and returns to their place in the semi-circle. Before you stands another woman, dressed in a more elaborate and decorated uniform than the others. A sword rests at her hip. She carries an air of authority as she approaches you with a nod and a warm smile. "Sorry about the circumstances. Take a minute, catch your breath. I'm Prime Minister Marlo Reiner and you're in The Free Cities. That nice lady over there will explain everything to you and get you settled."

A robed mage off to the side approaches to help you up. She brings you out of the cave through a corridor that angles upwards until you emerge in what looks like some kind of storage facility. You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military base on the outskirts of the major city of Cadens. You're told the world is in delicate and dangerous times, and you're needed to help. You're important and they're very grateful you're here.

◎ Surroundings

While you're currently at the outpost just outside of the city proper, Cadens on the whole is a large bustling city. The climate is hot and dry, though the sandstorm has obscured the sun, lowering the typical spring temperatures. At night, temperatures will drop further. Look to the west and you'll see a long stretch of desert wasteland. This is the infamous Badlands. The soldiers don't recommend going out there unprepared - you're likely to face a slow death to the elements or be eaten. Reaching Cadens is possible by wagon, a trip of about 2 hours each way. You're asked to return by sundown for your safety... but no one will chase after you if you don't.

You'll be given a military style uniform with your Arcana stitched on it where a formal rank would normally be. As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• Sandstorms assail the cites, especially in Cadens. The dust is thick and choking, and visibility is low. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• In the Cadens barracks, soldiers are hard at work fortifying its walls and preparing for further changes in weather. Shops and merchant stalls that populate Cadens' outdoor markets are absent. With the storms going on, the city streets are eerily empty except for vagrants and those who don't have shelter to retreat to.


• City guards are present around an inn and tavern at the heart of Cadens - The Sarstina - where the Summoned like you are often found. They're here for your protection, not to prevent you from moving freely.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, the barracks and Cadens have much for you to indulge in.

Pimp My Ride
Innovation is the way of the Free Cities, and showing it off is just as important. Every few years, wagon enthusiasts will display their customized New Magic-powered wagons in the Wagon Parade. Although this usually takes place in the streets of Cadens, this month's storm has forced the parade indoors into the Fortune Arena, the oldest horse arena in the city. They'll need help boarding up windows and doorways so that the this year's amazing entries aren't harmed. As with any event, pop-up merchants appear along the parade line selling food, drink, and a variety of commemorative tokens.

Masking Up
Dust storms are not unheard of in the desert, but the reduced air quality is still a concern. In response, the government is distribuing breathing masks and is asking for volunteers who are willing to brave current conditions to hand them out. Standard government-issued designs are free, but some wealthy citizens have elected for a more refined design while the cautious opt for total coverage. You'll be given your own mask (in the design of your choice), but the winds will still be a force to contend with. Be sure to travel with a partner for safety.

New Wave, New Age
New Magic is how the Free Cities diverges from reliance on more traditional magic. With New Magic, the Arcana plays a much more limited role. However, New Age thinkers of Libertas have risen with the arrival of the Summoned. They stress that to move to the future, you cannot forget your past. To encourage this reconnection with one's roots, a group of New Age practitioners have set up a table at the Cadens Library. You can take part in designing your own tarot card on pieces of thin metal. The goal is to create a design that speaks to you the most: find inspiration from your connections to the world, from home, or through an important symbol in your life. Special pens will easily burn and engrave any marks you make, so craft carefully.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to turn in, the barracks are waiting for you. They have a communal bathing room at the end of the hall, with curtains that can be pulled around the individual raised round tubs for privacy. Each barracks room is rather sparse. Six simple beds are set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You can greet your roommates here, most of whom will be new arrivals, as well.

If you plan on making use of your assigned quarters, you'll have your basic needs met: uniforms, a roof, bland food from the mess hall, and access to the training grounds. You won't be paid unless you formally enlist with the army. The longer you take advantage of the barracks, the greater the pressure to enlist. Some soldiers will start to see you as a freeloader if you refuse to join them yet continue to use their resources. If you're set on not enlisting, you'll eventually have to strike out on your own. The government won't provide for you and handouts are rare. You'll have to work to earn every copper and loaf of bread. Whether that's honest work is up to you, but you will want to start making money. Nearly everything in the Free Cities has a price - including the portal to Aquila. Luckily, the portal to Libertas is free if you want to stretch your legs.

Go to top ⇑

Welcome to Solvunn

You're in a grassy clearing amid a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. An elderly mage stands before an ornate altar. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. "I detect no ill will from the gods," he says. "It seems we've been blessed with success."

Those who gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased. One offers you some clothes of leather and knitted wool that seem to fit you perfectly. A rough-looking man steps forward once you're dressed and motions with his head outside of the stone circle. His speech is informal, his consonants harsh.

"Hold your horses, I can see all those questions coming about! Rowan March, at your service. I'm one of the council members of Solvunn. There's a lot to discuss, but it's best talked about over a hot meal." He leads you to a horse-drawn carriage and helps you up into the back. He talks the entire ride to the center of the Primary Settlement. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world who are happy to see it fall to ruin with their meddling.

You're important. The gods have graced them with your presence. They're delighted you're here.

◎ Surroundings

The Primary Settlement is full of greenery, blessed with the fresh ocean breeze. With spring on the way, the winds remain somewhat chilly and the rains are heavy - not to mention the small twisters forming across the plains and on the ocean. Shops, farms, and homes around you are all modest and unassuming. You get the sense that the people here prefer to blend in with their neighbors than stand out.

As you walk or look around, you'll be greeted warmly, even eagerly...though there's an edge of awestruck nervousness to some. Though the settlement is often quiet and calm, there's still plenty to take in:

• Small twisters assail the settlements. While it isn't strong enough to lift homes or large structures, important shrines, and small animals are still in danger. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• Shops and stalls have closed due to conditions. The strong community means in Solvunn everyone has chosen to pitch in to help each other out, delivering meals when there's a break in the storms, finding lost pets, repairing broken gates, and exchanging essential goods.


• Fishing in the Tertiary Settlement has also ground to a halt. Isar Hart, who sits on the Council, can be seen frequently in the Primary Settlement to gather much-needed supplies for the residents.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the commune, the commune and its settlements have much for you to indulge in.

Shrine Offerings
As a new arrival, you'll be encouraged to perform your first offering. Due to the turbulent weather, Solvunn believes offerings in the tradition of High Magic might quell the Gods' fury. Create a bundle using a combination of fruit, wine, flowers, or an animal you've hunted. It must be picked and put together by your own hand. Once you're ready, you can approach any shrine belonging to a God that speaks to you: is it Cadaevos, who purifies the community and soul? Endrborrin, who brings forth spring and change? Vagn, who oversees one's journey in death? It's a good idea to travel with a partner. While the twisters aren't deadly, they can be dangerous if you're not careful. Perhaps, along the way, you can talk about what the concept of gods and blessings mean to you.

Goatnado
Due to the heavy rains, Solvunn's fine tradition of goat racing has been put on hold so the goats can be kept safe inside their pens. Of course, the goats prefer their free-range lifestyle and are prone to escaping. Help find missing goats or tend to the ones who have been returned to their pens. It may not be as simple as following the sound of bleating and tying them up; reports of small twisters picking up goats and other livestock have been made, sending them far away from their pens and farms and even into the more dangerous wilds or inconveniently on buildings and houses. You'll need to team up and track them down before they can cause any property damage or get hurt themselves.

The Shrieking of the Weeds
Goats and livestock aren't the only victims of the sudden winds. Farmlands and crops also face the brunt of destruction. The twisters travel quickly across Solvunn's low and flat landscape, and the freshly tilled earth is even easier to disturb. As a result, Shrieking Weeds, a staple garden guardian in Solvunn, are being ripped from the ground and sent in whirling, noisy tempests that keep everyone up all night and day. The weeds must be retrieved and will only quiet when planted back into the ground. Luckily, you can easily follow their discordant cries to find them.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready for your bed, you're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. The living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be: the local families would also be happy to host you in their home. In return, you'll be expected to contribute to their household, taking upon daily chores and repairs. While money has its uses, many establishments and craftsmen are happy to barter with your time or skill for their goods. You'll find your willingness to trade and your friendliness with the natives more valuable than gold.

Goat-drawn wagons can help you get to the other settlements, but you're encouraged to remain in the Primary Settlement. If you insist, though, no one will stop you from leaving. Just be sure you have an invitation to the Secondary Settlement. There are tales of uninvited travelers to the Secondary Settlement disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective.

Go to top ⇑

Questions & Answers

If after reading these you're still unsure about anything, or your question wasn't covered, please feel free to hit up our Questions thread below!

How many slots are open?

Please check the Taken page for how many player, franchise, and canon slots are available. Activity Check will be processed before applications open, so the count may change between now and then. Existing players can apply for a second character without restriction.

How do I choose a scenario for my character?

Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Which territory your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.

What happens if my character refuses to comply with the NPCs?

They will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and leaders will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, they will be warned that everyone is willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight they will make good on that promise.

My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the cities, murdering the NPCs, etc.), what would happen to them?

Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other NPCs would be thrown back into the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude and intervention from various NPC guards, and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now, the Abraxans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.

Is the power loss for characters permanent?

No, but it does take a week or so for their powers to be back in full, and certain powers (determined on a case-by-case basis) may require nerfs. If your character has world-breaking powers, please discuss with the mods what modifications may be necessary.

Can my character leave the bounds of the territory?

No, they must remain within the territory except when visiting Nocwich. Review the Travel section on each territory's Setting page for where characters can go within their borders.

Can my character eventually change territories?

Yes, but tensions between the major territories are at an all-time high. Doing so is possible, but will require some plotting with the mods once you're in-game!

How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?

This choice will determine where your character initially lives as well as the bias of the information they receive from NPCs (although other PCs can and most likely will give it to them a bit more straight). It will also affect your character's day-to-day life and development. Characters who seek technological advancements or combat will find more of it in the Free Cities. Those interested in court politics, the Singularity, and magic will have the most access in Thorne. Anyone who wishes to uncover the secrets of the Gods and other mysteries will best do so in Solvunn.

This is not to say characters are locked out of other scenarios completely. With effort and the help of friends, anything is possible! Don't get too anxious about your choice. Every character in each scenario can work their way towards many individual goals. Additionally, once in-game, the Horizon, Nocwich, and certain events will let characters make easy cross-border CR.

Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?

No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics. You'll still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?

Your Arcana sign won't have an immediate impact on your character beyond them seeing it on themselves or being told what it is by the locals. You're welcome to disregard those aspects in your prompts or try out different signs.

Can my character go to the Horizon?

For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon. If you're interested in threading with characters outside your borders on the TDM, you can utilize the Nocwich prompt which will allow all characters to meet in person regardless of arrival scenario. In situations where Nocwich is closed, you can put up prompts for multiple scenarios, though only the one you choose in the application can become canon.

What about making use of the network?

Much like Horizon they would need to be introduced to it by another PC, as no NPCs would be aware of the network or be able to access it. We would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.

Can I try out more than one arrival scenario on the same TDM?

Yes, although only threads taking place in the arrival scenario you formally choose upon applying can count as canon. However, you're welcome to try out as many as you like on the TDM.

Go to top ⇑

Comments

Questions

[abraxasmods]

Re: Questions

[gadjos]

Hello mods! For the purposes of tracking the full moon, is it safe to say that the lunar calendar in Abraxas lines up with the dates of our real full moons, or is it separate?

Gale | Baldur's Gate 3 (The Lovers)

[karsiteweave]

[ OOC: Please be aware... Gale comes with content warnings, including a degree of religious-influenced suicidal ideation. His Goddess told him to kill himself for the greater good! At this Act 2 canon point, he has recently tried and... so far as he can tell, potentially failed?

My starters are Prose, but I can switch to match brackets. ]

THORNE

i - CASTLE: NORTH WING

Gale is stood staring out the window of his new room, watching the weather with open curiosity. The way the wind howls around Thorne, the clouds, the colour of the sky. He's still dressed in the silk tunic offered to him earlier, and still buzzing somewhat from the whole experience. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be anywhere, yet he is...

"Horizontal lightning," he murmurs. "Fascinating stuff. The most common type of lightning veers toward the ground but, it isn't unheard of for it to travel between clouds too. Still, quite the display isn't it?"

All that wind, the constant surges of lightning. Quite some storm. Not, Gale suspects, something natural -- although who is he to say what is natural for this place? He turns slightly from the window, and a slight patterning of purple veins down under his eyes becomes more visible. It's not exhaustion, although there's some of that too, but... something else. They seem to be darker as they travel down his neck, and vanish beneath the collar of his tunic. He smiles, but the discerning observer may realise it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Apologies, you must think me most ill mannered. Gale of Waterdeep, at your service. I was told these were my new accommodations? I do hope I'm not in the way."

ii - CASTLE: SORTING TOMES

Sorting books? Now that sounds exactly the sort of thing to put Gale at ease. He's tilting his head, reading the spines of them and regularly becoming distracted enough that he starts reading them. Quite content to carry this task out alone, the only break to the silence is his occasional muttering and then, suddenly, a book he tries to shelf ejecting itself back out at him. It bounces off his chest, and he struggles to steady the stack in his arms and not lose it all.

"Of all the sorting systems to use," he says, and moves to set the books he's carrying on the ground. "Was this one quite necessary?"

A little violent, surely? Or maybe he's just feeling especially agitated. Books set down, he moves his hands in a circular motion, a soft glow building up.

"Veni et iuva me," he says, with easy confidence -- and yet. The magic flares, then sputters and fades. Gale presses his lips into a thin line, then lifts one hand to rub at his chest as if easing an ache. Still nothing. "I see. Very well, your way it is then."

He picks up the book that bounced off him, squints at the spine more carefully.

iii - NETWORK

Hello, Gale of Waterdeep here. Do excuse me if I'm doing this wrong, I'm told it functions as a sort of wide range message spell. I'm hoping to learn more about this 'Singularity' here. An incredible sounding thing, in truth! A source of all magic, this specific artefact? I've been told that is safe to approach for 'summoned' like myself, but that it disintegrates all others. Far be it from me to doubt my sources, but I would like to hear a little more about people's experiences approaching it.

IV - WILDCARD

[ Pitch me an idea and we can go with it! ]

ii.

[ushiri]

( ooc: hi hi! this is the astarion player with my thorne character! he also has religious related traumas, I have an opt-out with content warnings! )

Kahlil doesn't frequent the library as often as he did when he first arrived almost a year and a half ago, but he still stops by to check in with Jack, or to drop off a package for a mage working here. The latter is the reason he's here today, when he spots an unfamiliar face.

"What was that you just did?" he asks, canting his head to one side. Kahlil dresses in a way that doesn't particularly stand out, simple and dark colored clothing that don't identify him as either a native or one of the Summoned to someone new here. This person is easy enough to clock as a newly arrived Summoned, though, making a failed attempt to use natural abilities or magic. Everyone goes through it, and he knows already the usual faces here.

Cidolfus Telamon | FFXVI | The Hanged Man

[judgmentbolts]

[ Spoilers for FFXVI ]

FREE CITIES - ARRIVAL - BARRACKS.

[ Some eternal peace this is. Not even a minute to get cold and cozy in his grave and he's being unceremoniously dragged up and out again, sputtering and naked as a newborn. The people who have dragged him out seem surprised that he's bleeding all over the nice ceremonial floors, but they get their wits together faster than he does. He's carted off to be bandaged and dressed, and a woman in robes answers all of his less than cheerful questions with an unruffled patience that would impress Harpocrates. He thinks about asking after Clive and Jill, but he figures when he finds his way out he can just yell until Clive shows up.

They tell him that this is The Free Cities — The Free Cities on some other world, at least. Must be hard to get a stolas about the name being taken if that's to be believed. Cid doesn't comment either way. He's only just gone back to having mostly the right number of holes in his body, and he's not eager to introduce new ones. He wanders off as soon as he's dressed, and no one seems particularly concerned with it. There's some kind of storm coming, and they're busily in the midst of preparations.

Cid spends some time in the barracks just getting his bearings. It's been a long time since he was in a place like this, uniform and all, but looking at him you wouldn't know it — he seems to interact with the soldiers with familiar ease, pitching in with the fortifications and making dry comments that draw out the occasional laugh or hearty groan. Even if he could think of a reason for the higher ups to lie to him in this particularly baffling way, the soldiers' accounts are much the same. He finds it hard to imagine even dead-eyed Ultima going to the trouble of playing such elaborate mind games with a used up Dominant.

Either at the Barracks or somewhere in the city proper, the moment he spots anyone else who bears an arcana symbol in place of their rank, he'll saunter over. He's already tugging the collar of his uniform open like it's been trying to strangle him. ]

Summoned, is it? How was your swim? [ Cid's tone is wry and easy, but there's a faint furrow between his brows. Nice that he isn't all that special around here, but that gives him more questions than answers.

Or maybe you're the one who approached him first. Cid can just as easily be found brooding on his own somewhere, or sitting on one of the beds, changing out the bandages around his midsection sometime that evening. The wound he's covering is well on its way to healing — or would be, if Cid was resting instead of gallivanting about building fortifications and interrogating his fellow Summoned. If you run into him here, you might notice that patches of his right arm and torso are made of stone instead of flesh.

Regardless of the storm, he will be making the trip into Cadens, so carriage buddies for the ride are welcome. ]

MASKING UP

[ In many ways, Cadens is almost like a dream fully realized. The vibrant interest in scientific progress and what people can do for themselves without using magic as a crutch — it isn't something he thought he'd see in his lifetime, even if he'd managed to live. But just like any dream, the reality of it isn't so neat. It seems like any system has the people it values and the people it deems expendable. Not everyone is like him, lucky enough to be both at once.

While the streets are nearly deserted, nearly isn't the same as entirely. Cid doesn't want to be out on the city streets any more than anyone else, but in the course of playing nice with his new hosts and handing out masks he runs into a couple of vagrants with nowhere else to go.

He doesn't bother trying to ask the city guard if anything can be done — he knows full well the sort of apathy he would expect to be greeted with. Instead, he waves down one of his fellow Summoned. He gestures toward the alley where an elderly gentleman is huddled with his granddaughter, the two of them doing their best to shield themselves from the blowing sand. ]

Do you know of anywhere they can go to wait out the storm?

PIMP MY RIDE

[ As the days pass, Cid thinks he's beginning to feel the dregs of levin in his blood start to stir again; whatever is left of Ramuh is still there, though not easily or eagerly reached. Then again, there's plenty of electricity in the air, so maybe it's just that.

He spends most of his time in Cadens proper, eager to be free of the barracks. He still doesn't have a gil to his name, but he can enter the Fortune Arena (hah) for free. He means to look around and carry on searching for actual work, but he ends up talking his way into a lively discussion with one of the drivers; a young woman who could give Midadol a run for her money when it comes to talking fast. A part of her wagon's engine was damaged during travel, and there isn't time to find a replacement. ]

If you did something like — [ Cid looks around for something to write with, and after a moment he crouches down — gods, did his knees make that cracking sound? — to scratch out a diagram in the dirt, to better illustrate his point. It's clear to anyone who might be paying attention that he has a fair amount of engineering knowledge; New Magic is new to him, but otherwise he knows what he's talking about. ] Would that be enough to compensate, do you think?

[ If he notices anyone lingering nearby, he'll push himself to his feet and dust off his knees. He gestures for them to join the discussion. ] If you want to tag in, be my guest. She's got no use for the likes of me.

[ The woman laughs, not unkindly, but she doesn't disagree. Well, shows him for thinking he could just waltz in and figure it all out. ]

WILDCARD

[ Hit me up with anything or PM this journal if you want to discuss! ]

masking up

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor is most certainly not out in this storm, thanks very much. He's more than aware of his own constitution, and despite the fact that he's been making some perhaps inadvisable travel between Cadens and Aquila and the Farhill mining camp, he does have the sense to stay inside when the weather is actively terrible. Can't say the same for this poor guy, who he's watching though a shuttered window.

It takes him a moment to realize that there are other people involved, and the man who he thought was foolish enough to get caught in the storm is actually trying to find shelter for the other two. That changes things, sightly. Viktor outfits himself with goggles and respirator of his own, then pushes the front door open as best he can, bracing it with his shoulder and leaning out into the street.]

This way. [He calls over the wind, waving a hand to get Cid's attention.] Bring them inside.

[Whatever Cid chooses to do, there's some urgency in Viktor's voice that indicates he should make it quick. Viktor does seem like he's having some trouble keeping the door open against the wind.]

Peter Rumancek | Hemlock Grove | Solvunn | The Hanged Man

[gadjos]

𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠

( A calm, sedate looking young man in his early to mid twenties kneels in the grass by a frequented walking path. Before him is an open scrap of cloth, within which he meticulously arranges a few intended contents. Hand-picked berries are pressed gently until they bleed and stain the fabric, one after the other. The shape of a pentagram begins to make itself known. In the spaces between the points, and in the center, he threads the stems of flowers through the weave of the fabric.

When he's finished with his work, he brings his thumb to his lips and kisses it gently like a religious man might do to a cross he wore. To the sky, he murmurs: )

Baxt hai sastimos tiri patragi.

( And then he folds the cloth into a bundle with an air of reverence, knotting it firmly in place. If someboene's been observing, or if happens to be lingering, at this point he'll turn his attention to them. )

Hey, you wanna show me where these fuckin' shrines are supposed to be?

𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛

( Several days, perhaps even over a week, after the new batch of Summoned are pulled through, Peter meditates his way to the Horizon. It isn't particularly difficult for him; he seems, in fact, to have kind of a natural affinity for it.

His own domain is nothing to speak of, yet. Just a shitty little trailer down by a river, one he's seen enough that he isn't interested in spending much time in it. He is far, far more interested in exploring. You can catch him politely, unobtrusively skirting the edges of your domain, keeping his hands to himself but observing anything that looks even remotely interesting. He can also be found wandering toward the center, reverently reaching out to touch the singularity itself. )

𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑

( Peter can also be found:
→ with his arms elbow-deep in dirt re-burying the shrieking weeds
→ studiously observing the shrines to all of the gods available in the primary settlement
→ asking around about visiting the secondary settlement
→ meandering through the woods far away from the beaten path
→ having a very amusing conversation with goat he's petting
→ anything else! hit me at paingravy for questions! supernaturally sensitive characters may discern something of the wolf in his manner, aura, or smell. )

shrine

[wwrench]

Wrench has indeed been observing. He’s seen a fair few of Solvunn’s native rituals by this point. Hell, he’s even been asked to lead a few of them himself. While he harbors no particular ire for any of them, he wonders if half the people who still devoutly engage have seen any kind of positive benefit for all their efforts. Even in service to a God himself, Wrench hardly considers himself faithful. “Loyal” is a much better descriptor. Or “vassal,” in the derogatory.

A pentagram isn’t an unfamiliar shape, though, so it gives at least some impression of where the newcomer might be from. Though to be fair, Wrench isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone draw one with such intent. Most of his past familiarity is built around spray painted images on the sides of old freight containers, or the movies that play on hotel television sets around 3:00 in the morning. They’re relegated to a couple of different meanings: either the person’s evil, or they’re trying to be edgy.

So, while his eyebrows raise when the man stands and they find themselves each eyeing up the other, he’s not in any great hurry to find out what the newcomer’s whole deal is.

You’re new? You missed Halloween by a lot.

Travis Guidry | Tales From the Gas Station | Solvunn | The Chariot

[infiniteban]

((Overall content warning for language and inane chatter. Voice testing. ShadowSpirits. Will match style.))

A. shrine offerings

No, thank you, I'm not--I'm not ready for that level of commitment in your ah... fine establishment here. Don't get me wrong! It's a nice place! I just--

[Sorry, Solvunn, there's this weird-ass middle-of-fuckin'-nowhere Redneck walking about the commune. He's chattering up anyone he passes, but moving on just as quick, before the conversation gets too loaded, before they drag him in deep. It's the Mathmetists again. Which is fine, if just not his thing. He could've helped out there though, just the same as here.

Except he stops, this time, at some nice old lady mentioning Vagn, and death to him, and then he's grabbing the next person he sees, alarm in his expression.] Hey buddy. Hey. I think I died. Again? I don't know, I don't really remember the first time. Or this last. [By the way he briefly stares off unblinking, that might be a lie.] Is my boy Brylock here, too? He's gotta be, right?

[So, so sorry for whoever is now in his crossfire.]

B. Goatnado

I'd prefer to see how the hunting's like. [He keeps going to his rifle like it's a security blanket. That is. Not there. That's bothering him far more than the weather, which he seems to just be going along with, only squinting occasionally through the water on his face.

But he'll help out just as much as the next guy, he's not an asshole, even if he may look like one.] But, come on, wind's wild and turns out I still need a roof to sleep under tonight. Not sure what they think tying down the goats are going to do though. Goats don't stay put. No fence will keep them bound! Probably dove right into the twisters themselves. But we'll get 'em.

a

[wwrench]

Given the bouts of unpredictable weather and the shuttering of several of Solvunn’s familiar establishments, Wrench just assumed the little commune might skip its summoning ritual this time around. He never pays close attention, but the presence of unfamiliar faces around the territory doesn’t go undetected. So maybe the ritual is a little bit like the US Postal Service: neither rain nor heat nor sideways fucking lightning storms…

He hasn’t revised his position on being the absolute worst first introduction anyone could have to this place. That’s especially true if their world is equally as mundane as his own. He hasn’t forgotten his own first introduction to the way everyone here can form visible words straight out of their minds, but it’s what the man who grabs him now is going to get, ready or not.

You’re new. Did they give you the lecture?

Ardyn Izunia | FFXV | Thorne | The Tower

[scourged]

(cw: spoilers for FF15.)

𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌

(Ardyn has no idea how he wound up in this strange and fanciful world, but for now he'll take it, fully intent on learning what he can about this new world and in what ways he can use it to his full advantage. He'd expected death at the end of all things mere moments before things had shifted, a final and blissful release from a turbulent path over the millennia. Instead he'd awoken in a pool of water with some old mage barely able to keep his eyes open giving some seal of approval even now Ardyn isn't aware of. Was this another twist of the gods? Another game of a certain god for him to be pulled and dragged through? The idea of not being able to rest, even at the end of all things, is a dire enough thought.

Which means Ardyn is all the more dramatic in his movements at the library, his gestures wide and sweeping as he opens a tome and reads the first line with some flair.)

"Once, in a kingdom far away, there was a King with two sons," Oh no no, that will never do, such things never tend to end well when they start like that. Brothers rarely like to share in most stories.

(Ardyn pauses, not looking up from the book as he places a hand to his hat and ducks his head, narrowly avoiding someone's misplaced tome from knocking him out).

Books do have a tendency to embellish such things, but I must admit I do love a good story no matter how dated they are. I daresay in a place such as this we could consider ourselves living in one, don't you think?

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇

(The whole thing had sounded dull, tedious and outlandishly boring when someone had announced the painting session and as Ardyn studies his own artwork he has to conclude that it absolutely was all of those things. He could even consider it to have exceeded expectations in the droll stakes. He'd been lured in by the speech of Thorne's defiance in the face of the "gods" and received an event that could slow sheer prophecy down. Ardyn looks around at the paintings of others, the smile on his face easy enough despite the negativity in his mind. Smiles were easy once one learned to allow it to reach the eyes, though occasionally the odd person could catch the disingenuity there.)

Why, yours is much better than mine! I must admit I'm not much of an artist and it would seem my attempts to not let the brush paint for me has become a problem.

(Ardyn's own artwork is covered in a myriad of splatters across what once could have been a decent painting.)

Then again I could even say it gives mine a bit of charm within all that chaos....

𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇

(Eventually Ardyn makes his way to the quarters, having wandered enough for one day. From what he can tell this place seems intent on keeping people captive with the excuse of being unable to understand how to send them home, with the added "bonus" of free accommodation and supplies. Some gave with one hand and took with the other and a change of worlds never changed that.

He sits on an empty bed, the smile dropping from his face as he takes a breath. There's an awareness of just what exactly is missing; powers. No armiger or anything of the sort, even the starscourge felt faint ever since arriving. Not only that but from what Ardyn could decipher there were none of the usual crew to be dealing with, fate having seen fit to not only send him somewhere else but to deal a blow in not providing the free entertainment he'd so enjoyed over the last decade or so.

Thinking on it, said heroes did have a habit of popping up at the most impressive moments. Ardyn has no doubt he'll cross paths with them again; if he can be dragged through worlds then so could they. Rest is, apparently, for the weak. He reaches up to take the hat from his head, a free hand ruffling dark red hair as he places the hat on a nearby table.)

Free bed, free food, what will they ask for I wonder?

𝗐𝗂𝗅𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽
(ooc: Happy to thread any prompt, let me know and I'll write a starter. Ardyn can be found wandering in most places, looking mostly interested in a lot of things. Any contact needed please send a PM to this journal. Thanks!)

painting session

[glaciare]

( Jill also isn't an artist, but experience with Thorne's brand of magic and some creative ability lends itself well enough that her own painting isn't as bad as the man she'd been sitting next to, though she doesn't think that the measure should be how well it looks but the experience one has doing it.

Still, she finds herself giving his painting a serious, long look before she finds herself agreeing with him. )

One could, yes. Or perhaps that you were inspired by the recent weather to... create a bit of accuracy?

( She offers, not unkindly. )

Edward Nygma| Gotham| The Tower

[whatam_i]

[ooc: Yes I did one for each of the locations, because I can't make up my mind on where to stick this weirdo. XD ]

1.) Thorne - Sorting Tomes:

After his rude and uncomfortably naked arrival, Edward naturally seeks out something he knows and is comfortable with. For most people this might mean having a hot meal, a drink and maybe interacting with people.

But not for him, since he was a child he's never had great people skills. So the second he hears there is help needed in the library he is there, finding comfort and solace in the smell of leather bound books and vast information.

Well that is until he sees the way things are being sorted.

"........there is a much better way to do this." He huffs out loud to himself and begins to try and re-order everything. This of course seems to be incorrect and when he pulls out an entire shelf and tries to put things back based on a rhizomatic cross index the books fly off and hit him.

"Ow, ow ow OW!" He yells and instead of trying something else he buckles down and tries again, only to have the books fly off again and hit him and anyone who is unlucky enough to be walking by.

2.) Free Cities - Settling In - mess hall:

"Is this supposed to be food?" Edward asks with a faint sneer as he is dished out some bland food in the mess hall, the cook grunts in response and Ed sighs and takes his meal over to a table. Sitting down and poking at the food with the end of his fork as if it were still alive and likely to attack him.

"You'd think in a place claiming to be somewhat technologically forward they would have learned how to use spices in their food..."

3.) Solvunn - Exploring - Shrieking Weeds:

It's bad enough that Ed is stuck in this weird little religious folk town but now his sleep is being disturbed by an awful, shrieking sound coming from outside.

At first he tries to ignore it, tossing and turning for about an hour as he tries to bury his head under his pillow but eventually he grows irritated enough to get out of bed and pull on the scratchy wool tunic and leather pants he was given by the weird old mage. He doesn't like this outfit one bit, it's shapeless and uncomfortable and he misses his green suit but he doesn't want to be running around naked again so it will have to do.

When he gets outside he is hit by the fierce winds, gasping a little at the sudden cold and force but he doesn't retreat back inside. Instead he walks until he finds another soul who is curious enough to be outside in this weather.

"What the hell is making that noise?!"

4.) Wildcard: Have a fun idea that you want to throw at Ed? Go for it, I'm happy to do basically anything.

[krazed]

"This place'll have you propped up daydreaming about greasy gas stations hot dogs and two-dollar tacos."

That's without access to most of the confections that had become mainstream for her in Gotham, a visionary future as far as this joint was concerned. "If you want better food you're also gonna want to hop the cart ride into Cadens. Mag's a beast in the kitchen and behind the bar."

SENJI MURAMASA 🔥 F/GO 🔥 THE MAGICIAN

[misclassed]

THORNE.

[ 🔥 NORTH WING. 🔥

A fresh rash of newcomers in the castle. The usual drill, though now without the freedom to go looking in Nocwich for familiar faces. This newcomer takes in the new quarters offered to the summoned with an irate but calm demeanor, more inconvenienced than shell shocked. The moment he makes eye contact with someone who looks remotely familiar with the setting, he makes a beeline across the room without a care for niceties. ]

Hey. You know where this castle keeps its smithy, kid? [ "Kid" he says, regardless of if the other person is younger-looking than the other or not. Muramasa wrinkles his nose as if he's gotten a whiff of something weird, and then shakes whatever feeling is bothering him off with a grumpy shrug. ] There's so much magic on this damn place that I'm having a hard time getting my bearings.

[ Forget sleeping in a bed, he just needs to hit something with hammers until he feels more at peace with his skin. ]

[ 🔥 WILDCARDS 🔥 After arriving, Muramasa can be found in the castle smithy assisting. after a few days, the smithy starts to carry a magical air of rejuvenation and solace, despite being full of of people hammering away at metal. Even the sound of thunder roiling in the lightning clad skies above sounds distant. Or he visits the stables, and gets bit by a horse that is so spooked by the weather, it thinks he must be haunted or something. Head in the direction of the loud curse and you'll find him staring down an unrepentant and unnerved animal. Or failing that, he's up on the castle walls, storm be damned, a hand outstretched over the battlements into the open air, palm up towards the sky like he's waiting for rain or maybe hoping to catch a lightning strike if it ever graces the earth with its searing might. ]

---

FREE CITIES.

[🔥 NEW WAVE, NEW AGE 🔥

Some people don't do anything to contribute to anything, do they? Like this guy. He's just been standing there in familiar pose, watching. Not offering commentary, just watching the work with an attention to the detail that's bordering on unnerving. Maybe even judgemental, if you're feeling cagey and insecure about it. When a set of engraving pens is freed by someone else finishing up and leaving the table and the New Age practitioner offers him a blank metal sheet and the pen, he finally shifts his focus. ]

Me? Ehhh... The edges those pens make are too blunt for my tastes. Makes the work look sloppy. [ Buddy. Come on, aren't you being a little too picky? Someone else is right here, working very hard. ] What's wrong with just ink and paper?

[ Forget the pen and paper, what's wrong with just letting people be bad at things!? ]

[ 🔥 WORKHORSE 🔥 As the week after arrival comes to a close, the smithy that keeps the Cadens barracks equipped begins to host a new smith for some of the "less important" projects. Muramasa makes all sorts of things: nails, horseshoes, door hinges, dust mask fittings, you name it. If the hammering and smoke is tolerable, the air inside is easier to breathe than the dusty streets outside for those who need a brief respite. Just don't linger idly too long, or Muramasa will put you to work boxing up the seemingly infinite number of nails that they need for boarding up the Fortune Arena, and drag you along to help deliver his work, dust storms be damned... ]

(( OOC NOTES: Alter Ego version, possible spoilers for FGO LB6. ))

new wave, new age let's fight peepaw

[theidlemaiden]

[ The library isn't exactly at the top of Hilda's list of places to go when she's bored. Unfortunately in these trying times there's only so many places indoors for them to go. So she tags along on one of Claude and Sylvain's trips to the library mostly in an attempt to leave the loft and avoid any loft fever. Thankfully that day also happens to be the same one that the New Age practitioners are hosting their workshop.

It doesn't take much to convince her to try her hand at anything related to arts and crafts. Having dabbled in engraving before, handling the pen is the easy part. Coming up with something to put on the metal is the hard part.

Especially when she can feel eyes boring into the back of her skull when she finally gets down to work. Just as their instructor coaxes the bystander to join them, Hilda looks up - just in time to make eye contact with him as he says 'sloppy'. It's probably just a coincidence that they locked eyes at that moment. But she knew she hadn't been imagining some presence hovering over her shoulder as she worked. As much as it sends a spike of annoyance through her she keeps her pleasant smile affixed on her face. Growing up as a noble had some advantages. ]

Don't you think it's a little rude to call someone's work sloppy? Mostly everyone here is a beginner.

annabeth chase | pjo/heroes of olympus | thorne | the high priestess

[sophos]

Ω THE NORTH WING

[ this is not the first time annabeth has found herself in strange situations involving (presumed) rivers in the last few weeks, but it beats out the lava and the despair. ]

[ there's an instinct that compels her to fight back and immediately question - well, everything. but there is a bone-tired ache across her entire body too that leaves little room for the fighting itch in turn. as a demigod, she's not entirely unused to being whisked away on the whims of some higher power as a concept though, and perhaps that helps her go through the motions and allows the explanations, the transportation, the new fitted magic clothing; it turns her focus entirely on what this high mage tells her because she does not want to think about any alternatives. besides, the best way forward is, as always, to gather as much information as she can on the offset. she files it all away and thinks, at least this prison isn't killing me via the air itself. ]

[ annabeth moves through the north wing almost skittishly. every little sound draws her attention, and once in a while she reaches for her hip, where no hilt waits for her. there are semi-healed cuts and wounds across visible skin, and her curly hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail; the look is accentuated by deep, dark circles under her eyes. ]

[ she's used to sharing a cabin, so she's not terribly put out by the sight of four beds in one room. mostly she's just enamored by the concept of a bed. she can't remember the last time she slept on one. her grey eyes snap to whoever walks in the room as soon as they cross the threshold, and she watches them a little unnervingly. ]

Is one of these yours? [ her tone is a little gruff. she wants a goddamn nap. she is fresh out of tartarus and a little on edge. she deserves a nap at the very least! even the storm outside doesn't seem like too big a deterrent. ]

Ω SORTING TOMES

[ at some point, she finds herself in the library, if only for the comfort of being in one. even if she doesn't fall into reading any of the books, the atmosphere alone allows her to turn inward and try to mull over... everything. annabeth has a lot to process and a lot she doesn't want to think about in the same breath. the library is clearly the answer. she doesn't know this place, but she knows books. ]

[ she carries a handful of books through the shelves, but her attention is elsewhere, and she looks aimless. she's just thinking, a lot - the definition of lost in thought right now. she mindlessly puts a book back on the shelf for the sake of proving she's working, but it's in the wrong spot. lucky for her inherent instincts - she ducks at the last second as the book sails centimeters over her head and slams into the floor. ]

Di immortales! What the fuck? [ her bemusement is spat out in ancient greek. if someone explained to her about the auto-correction for misplaced books, she clearly was not listening. ]

Ω SERENE STEEDS

[ annabeth is too restless, so wandering is the easiest habit to pick up in a castle. she has very little experiences in castles, but when she hears there are stables, she meanders her way there. at least horses are familiar, even if she's fairly positive none of these will be capable of flight. what she finds are animals just as antsy as she is, though she thinks she's doing a much better job of hiding it. ]

I don't suppose you've spoken to a dark haired boy who smells like the ocean? [ yes, she is asking the horse this question. the horse does not respond. ]

[ annabeth has not touched any of the magic to try and cast this supposed calming spell, and she's currently not in the mood to try. mostly she'd just... maybe had a small hope about coming to the stables and sought another element of comfort there. ]

[ but, with other company coming in, she straightens her posture and sizes them up as they come closer. ] Do you know how to do that calming spell?

[ ooc; annabeth is post house of hades! like. basically immediately after escaping tartarus, good times. ]

serene steeds!

[glaciare]

( Jill, for all her compassion, still finds that horses unsettle her -- she's learnt how to ride them, but she cannot get over how fragile their legs look. How are they meant to carry people, pull them, with legs like that? Jill vastly prefers chocobo over horses, thank you very much.

Still, she offers a polite nod at the teen -- there's no smile on her face, her posture reserved and withdrawn, yet lacking any outward hostility. Nor does she refuse to help what Jill can only surmise is a new Summoned. )

I do, yes. Would you like me to teach you?

( It's alright if she doesn't, Jill won't be upset either way. )

percy jackson | riordanverse | the lovers

[seaweedbrain]

surroundings / castle ( thorne );

[ This is honestly starting to feel like a really frustrating deja vu.

Waking up in a daze, unsure of where he is, being told that he’s been chosen for some kind of a quest? Yeah, sure — been there, done that.

The first thing that Percy makes note of is how weirdly comfortable these strange new clothes are. They’re nothing like the tattered remains of his sweat-and-blood covered Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and matted jeans, and after overstaying his welcome in the depths of Tartarus, this place already feels like some new form of Elysium … minus all of the other heroic demigods, of course. He still feels a little dorky in the sandals — like, he’s pretty sure Mr D probably has a whole closet full of footwear just like these somewhere at camp. But he can’t deny that they’re comfortable too. Rest in peace, old sneakers. You got him through a hell of a lot.

It takes him no time at all to forget every single name he’s been given, and all of the fun facts about the castle too; this whole experience feels like a whirlwind, and the only thing he really wants to do right now is find someone familiar (namely his girlfriend, Annabeth), or barring that: someone who knows a little more about why they asked for him specifically and not the other demigods in his group; and finally, maybe, something to eat. (When was the last time he ate? And do they have burgers here?)

It’s the wind slamming against the walls of this place like battering rams that distracts him from his hunger, and has him peering out of the nearest window to witness the wagons being tossed around like they were made of paper. A streak of lightning flashes across the sky, lighting up the cloud cover. It feels way too familiar, but like, not in a good way. ]

Uh — shouldn’t someone make sure people out there are safe? Because it kinda sounds like Zeus is having a temper tantrum.


exploring / serene steeds ( thorne );

[ The stables always make Percy feel at home, no matter where they might be located. It isn’t even because he’s especially good at horseback riding, or that he’s even spent a whole lot of time around horses. But one can say that he’s got … a birthright given affinity to them.

Okay, he can talk to horses thanks to his dad. It’s a thing; don’t worry about it.

The horses here are (rightfully) skittish, acting up with the winds and the storms outside, and he can hear their panicked cries and whinnies as he makes his way inside to check on them, but they don’t really seem to be all that chatty. Percy gets it. He’d hate to be trapped in here defenseless too if he were them.

He approaches the nearest of the horses and starts to speak: ]

Heeey, big guy. [ Percy holds his hands up in the universal sign of, I am totally innocent, totally on your side, I’m not here to hurt you, and look! My hands are clean but the horse in question doesn’t seem to believe his gesture of goodwill and stamps its hooves, and it occurs to him then that he can’t hear what the horse is saying.

Weird.

And also sucky. ] Whoa — I’m just here to help, all right?

[ He could babble on, maybe share a totally unnecessary anecdote that would surely put any creature to sleep, horse, sea-otter, or whatever, but the apprentice mages have specifically instructed him to use one of those spells they were talking about, and while Percy had initially insisted that the only magic he knew how to do was pull a really long colourful line of handkerchiefs out of a really specific jacket that he didn’t happen to have on him, he finally relented. Because you just can’t argue with apprentice mages.

Or you can’t do it when you’re Percy Jackson.

And being that he can’t seem to understand the horses and they aren’t really communicating with him, which totally sucks, he clears his throat and stalls (heh) for time. The horse seems to be waiting for him to pull his next move anyway, while the others watch on anxiously, snuffling and shifting nervously within their confines. The wind continues to rattle the stable walls around them. ]

Okay, no problem. That’s fine. Um. What were those magic words again?

[ You might catch him trying to remember said words, or you might catch him in the midst of casting the spell … and then being unable to hold it, either because he’s distracted by something (common for demigods like him, unfortunately — but conveniently useful in a fight!) or because he hears you approach.

He starts to see visions of the underworld, of desert-like plains and endless rivers glowing with hot, fiery waters that could burn your insides, or make your skin feel like agony, sharp nails and clawing fingers trying to pull you into the depths and remember your pain and guilt and regret.

It might be best to snap him out of it. ]


wildcard ;

[ if none of the above works for you, feel free to leave a starter below! if you’d like to plot out something specific, feel free to PM me.

while i’m pretty set on thorne for percy, i’d also be cool to try out different places for him in wildcard starters if necessary! and finally, like annabeth, percy will be coming in from post-house of hades. ]

surroundings

[spiritread]

[ Sometimes you're the one looking out windows... and sometimes you're the weirdo not even in the window but standing on the tile of the sloped awning. Which is to say, that's exactly what Jinora is doing by this time in her arrival. The first few days without her bending had been weird and stressful, doubly so when you're someone who's entire thing is wind and air and all of it's acting weird. Weird in ways you can't do anything about. ]

[ It worried her in ways she couldn't express, that made her meditating more difficult. ]

[ She's never been afraid of wind - of air - before and she doesn't want to start now. Thankfully, she doesn't, but she feels at a loss at what to do about it. If there's something to do at all, she thinks, flinching as a strong gust causes a boat in the distance to sway dangerously in the wind, as if it might topple over. ]

[ She's so concentrated on it she doesn't notice the boy peer out until he speaks to someone - presumably inside - with a start. The wind catching in her clothes as she uses it to straighten herself out before she really did fall over, continuing naturally: ]

It is pretty weird... Wind currents don't normally behave like this.

[ A beat. ] But uh -

Who's Zeus?

Ignatius "Iggy" Melville | OC | The Empress

[dead_tongue]

Thorne

friendship is magic

The closest Iggy has ever been to a horse before was at a petting zoo when he was a kid, and technically that was a pony. He's a little surprised at how big they are, but movies have taught him that all you have to do is be calm and pure of heart or something and a horse will be your best friend forever.

He's confident with the first couple of horses, speaking the words he was taught carefully, but by the third one, well... There's a reason Iggy didn't do very well in school. So while he says the words (and alright, maybe he didn't say every single little tiny syllable, no, but basically he says them!) his attention is most definitely not on them.

Quite suddenly Iggy finds himself vividly remembering his first day of public school. He remembers being a gangly gay giraffe of a kid, towering over most of his peers and standing out in all the wrong ways. He had been hoping so badly to find other people his own age to befriend and finally fill the yawning loneliness in his heart.

It didn't happen.

Iggy stands there in the stables, teary-eyed as realises that now, just over ten years later, he's back at square one when it comes to meeting people.

"Oh, fuck."


i'm on my princess shit
cw: nsfw conversation

'The North Wing' sounds so elegant. Iggy isn't expecting roommates, but he doesn't mind - he prefers to have people around him as much as possible. Besides, the beds are much more luxe than the mattress-on-the-floor situation he had at home.

Iggy throws himself onto one of the beds, not actually sure if it's claimed or not, and sighs dramatically. "Oh my gosh, this is the best bed in the universe. Hey, so like, can we fuck in here? I assume that's why the curtains."

Asking the important questions.


Free Cities
cw: nsfw conversation/art

Iggy is absolutely not comfortable with the military vibe, thank you very much. He's happy to tell anyone who will listen that he comes from a long line of pacifists, and while he looks terribly cute in a uniform, it's just not really his thing.

As such, he tries to avoid anything that seems too army-like, which is how he is drawn to the New Age table at the library. Having a passing familiarity with tarot and being an art student, the designing challenge is right up his alley.

And so Iggy sits, thinking, tapping his pen idly against his chin.

"I think," he muses aloud, "that you shouldn't be bound to traditional cards but it's good to reference traditional symbols. So, I think that to do a card about grief it should have water, maybe even a skull." He brightens and looks over at whoever is stuck next to him. "And if I fuck it up I'm just going to create the Ten of Dicks."


Solvunn

i had to try and i
cw: nsfw conversation, sex work reference

Iggy actually likes Solvuun. Okay, so the weather is currently shit, but Iggy's from the Pacific Northwest of Canada. He's used to that. What's important is that he can smell the ocean, and that the people are warm and welcoming.

He figures out pretty quickly that bartering is the primary way to procure anything. Iggy has a few exceptional talents, but in his experience one of them pays the bills. Which is why he finds someone who doesn't look local and sidles up to them to ask, "Okay, serious question: are blowjobs currency? And do they have cigarettes here?"


i came back haunted

Iggy was raised religious, but it wasn't the sort of religion considered mainstream. He grew up with the concept of god as something huge and ultimately unknowable - THE ALL as opposed to an actual figure, indifferent and eternal and immutable. The gods of Solvunn remind him of myths he read as a child - his family's library was eclectic, to put it mildly - and are at once repulsive and attractive in their approachability.

In the spirit of going-along to get-along, Iggy lets himself be convinced to put together an offering. No hunter he, he uses fruit and flowers, arranging the latter carefully. After listening carefully to the stories of the locals, he decides he should find a shrine dedicated to Zalyshyty.

Iggy was never a boy scout, and so he finds a place where others are assembled and simply asks, "Hey, can someone walk me to a shrine? I don't wanna get lost and die of exposure."


[Or wildcard me! Happy to do prose or brackets - I'll match whatever format you prefer!]

🌈✨ friendship✨🌈

[dawn_is_breaking]

More than once in her life Dawn has been told she has a natural 'mom vibe' and while she didn't want to believe it in her twenties, ten years later she knows it's true. She has a very gentle, genuine way about her and connects well with people, especially young ones.

So it's no surprise that the second she sees the tall ginger boy who looks ready to cry she is dropping what she is doing to go check on him.

"Hey." She says softly, coming up beside him.

"You okay?"

Dawn Granger| Titans | Strength

[dawn_is_breaking]

1.) Thorne - Surroundings - Spring Flowers:

Being pulled from her world and thrust into this one is definitely a bit of a shock, more than being brought out naked from a fountain had been, and even after spending some time resting Dawn still wanders through the castle as if in a dream.

Eventually she finds herself in one of the gardens, enjoying the slight chill in the air and the smell of blooming flowers as it helps make her feel more grounded and actually here. As she walks through the garden she thinks about what the High Mage said upon her arrival, it's hard for her to accept that anyone in this universe has heard 'tales of her exploits' as her world seems so far away, so different. Not to mention the fact that some of her recent exploits aren't all that noble or valiant. She was a hero but now she just feels lost and broken.

But she's here now and she might as well start trying to adjust and interact with the people she'll be living with for the foreseeable future, so when she hears the footsteps of another person coming she offers them a small friendly smile.

"Excuse me, do you know the name of these flowers by any chance?"

2.A) Free Cities - Exploring - Masking Up:

When Dawn hears the city needs volunteers to bring breathing masks to the public she is more than willing to help out, wanting to be useful in some way but also to see more of the surrounding area and after being outfitted with her own mask she makes sure to wrap herself up as much as possible, after all the weather looks nasty out there.

"Which way should we head first?" She calls out to her partner, trying to make her soft voice heard over the storm.

2.B) Free Cities - Settling In - bathing room:

After a successful mission out to deliver breathing masks to those who need them the only thing Dawn wants is a nice, hot bath. Her body is sore from bracing against the harsh wind and her skin feels coated in sand and dust, so much that before she enters the communal bathing room she tries to shake as much of it as she can from her long hair.

Once inside she doesn't bother with the privacy curtain, she just sheds her dirty clothes and sinks into the hot waters with a long sigh.

"What I wouldn't do for a glass of wine with this."

3.) Solvunn - Exploring -Shrine Offerings:

The idea of leaving an offering isn't a totally foreign idea to Dawn, when she was little her grandfather had told her about how his mother used to leave offerings of bread and milk to the fairies. She hadn't believed it but one of the other things she learned from him was that sometimes it was easier to just hush up and be polite, especially if you were somewhere new and strange.

Which this place definitely is.

So instead of trying to argue with the locals she nods and sets out to find something for her offering, wanting to stick mostly to flowers and fruit since she plans on giving this to Endrborrin.

Along the way she spies someone else who seems to be gathering things as well and she lifts a hand in greeting.

"Are you looking for the shrines as well?"

4.) Wildcard: Have a wild idea? Hit me up with it, happy to roll with anything.

Shrine Offerings

[inthenameofhades]

"Not at the moment," Zagreus says. He was a god himself, after all - but as yet, he hadn't quite decided on how should interact with the local pantheon. That was...something he was still deciding on.

But that won't stop him assisting someone else in the meantime.

"Are you looking for company? The journey is rather more difficult than usual at the moment."

Jacob Frye | Assassin's Creed | Free Cities

[rookvision]

pimp my ride

[As jobs go, this is one of the cleaner ones Jacob's ever done, and one of the simpler ones. No need to knock someone out or kill someone from above, all he has to do is climb up somewhere and hammer some boards into place. Simple enough. He's done with his bit fairly quickly, and now is making his way over to the next person, making no real effort to silence his footsteps as he peers at what they're doing.]

So which stalls would you say are worth the price?

masking up

[Dust storms are new.

The sensation of something clogging up his nostrils, though? That's not new. He's been living in London for most of the year, he's an old hat to smog. This is just...a bit grittier than that, 's'all, and besides they even gave him this nifty mask. They actually also gave him a bunch of other masks to distribute out in this weather, and recommended he tag along with somebody for his own safety.

He'd taken one look at the weather and tactfully agreed. Frankly, probably better for him to team up with some other Summoned anyway, because he wants to know more about this place and he highly doubts that their dear hosts are telling them everything they need to know. Call it an Assassin's paranoia, he supposes.

From the perspective of his partner, Jacob comes off as fairly competent, if a little...odd. He's a chatty fellow, but every so often he stares off into the distance, as if concentrating, before suddenly turning in a different direction and walking with purpose. Slow down, and he'll look back.]

There's someone this way who'll be needing this mask. Come on now, there's only so much time in the day.

[He pauses to let his partner catch up with him, then says:] So while we're here, I was wondering, what do you think of the Free Cities so far? I'm rather new, you see, and I'm still trying to get my bearings.

wild card

[make up your own scenario here or hmu mollymauktealeaf if you're not feeling the above prompts! while I'll be apping Jacob into the Free Cities I'm happy to play him in different factions for a few threads.]

masking up

[aquilus]

[It doesn't escape Altaïr's notice that this one of the newly Summoned is very perceptive, able to spot people others would miss. It's unusual. He doesn't comment on it. Some people are, after all. He should know.]

As you say.

[He's not slow but neither does he rush; mostly he moves with purpose, keeping an eye out for whoever Jacob spotted and continuing to size the man up. Perceptive and chatty, it seems.]

That's a broad question. What is it you want to know to acclimate?

sephiroth ( ffvii: ever crisis ) free cities

[aonibi]

PIMP MY RIDE
[ sephiroth's come a long way even in the short time he's been with glenn and the others back home, but he's still an uncanny, almost doll-like teenager, his expressions often subtle or entirely absent. it makes him a little, well, eerie, especially given the green glow and cat-like pupils of his wide, staring eyes.

he's polite and helpful, at least. he's monstrously strong, too, which becomes apparent as he stops by someone else to drop a few boards off of the frankly-alarming stack in his arms. he pauses there after he hands a few off, gaze drifting to the odd vehicles parked around the arena. ] .. Where do you suppose the magic running them comes from? I mean-- [ he turns his eyes on his newly captive audience. ] --what produces the magic here? I haven't seen any evidence of mako, so..


MASKING UP
[ somehow, sephiroth looks even eerier with the lower half of his face obscured by his mask. for one thing, it's impossible to tell if he's trying to smile reassuringly.

he hefts the container of masks he's carrying, and despite his slight size, offers his other hand out without an ounce of self-consciousness. ] Since the winds are high, if you want, you can hold onto me. [ finally, the slightest hint of awkwardness as he shifts on his feet. ] I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I may need some assistance with navigation.


NEW WAVE, NEW AGE
[ sephiroth's card-to-be is still a completely blank piece of metal, and despite the pen in his hand, he looks.. troubled, brows knitting and a small frown on his face. truthfully, though he wants this experience, he doesn't know how to proceed. he's never tried to do anything so.. pointless. no, not pointless, but.. so unnecessary? something meant only for enjoyment, for spiritual enrichment.

and if this is meant to represent his past, well.. his past is mostly pain, however necessary that pain was. the professor had made him strong, but it had been a long, ugly childhood, regardless. he's not really sure he wants that memorialized on a keepsake of some sort.

finally, chest feeling tight and frustrated, he scoots over to try to catch sight of what another person is putting on theirs. maybe he'll get inspiration? ]


SETTLING IN
[ catch sephiroth awkwardly (almost shyly) dealing with having roommates, or taking long morning runs around the city, or self-conscious in the baths about his few needle and surgical scars. he's also available in the horizon for people from other territories! (his probably starts out resembling a lab crossed with a jungle.)

this is also the wildcard prompt, so feel free to prompt me. ]

new wave, new age

[rookvision]

[Jacob’s never been one for magic. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the entire concept of its very existence here, and tarot cards are an entirely new thing to him—he’s never held much of an interest in the occult before. That’s more Evie’s field than his, and he can’t help but feel like this activity’s a bit wasted on him. Still, he’s always up to try something new, and he has a pretty good idea what he wants for his card.

The Sun, huh? Well, the sun looms large in his card, but front and center is a little black bird in flight, a knife in its talons. It also happens to be wearing a little top hat—they’re going for fantastical imagery anyway, might as well.

He looks up when Sephiroth approaches, scoots over to make some room for him.]

So what sign did you get saddled with, anyway?

alan wake | alan wake 2(/remedyverse) | solvunn | the magician

[revise]

((cw: Wake's character may touch on themes of suicidal ideation, substance/alcohol abuse, disassociation, possession (for lack of a more succinct term.....it's a weird canon), and cult violence. You can find more info here. If there's a certain topic you'd like to avoid or need specific CWs for, shoot me a PM. Happy to oblige!

Prompts are in prose, but I can swap to brackets if that's you preference.))

RETURN (offering, part 1)

This isn't the first time he's gotten it wrong.

Wake knows that much in his gut. The details might be hazy but he's aware of a wrongness rattling around in there like a marble clattering around the inside of a shaken glass. Too much of that, he thinks, and something is going to chip and shatter. Or maybe it's happened already and this is all just what he's dealing with in the aftermath. He'd taken a wrong turn. Gone too deep into the labyrinth. Written himself into a corner, and now finds himself stuck jumping through a few more outlandish hoops to get himself back on track.

Period fiction isn't really his go to. But fuck it. The themes fit: man from another place washes up into one where he doesn't belong, half amnesiac and three quarters drowned. He's lost. The only way through is forward. When the locals start talking in terms of gods, of blessings and offerings, it feels inevitable.

'This is the ritual to lead you on.'

Sure. He can work with this.

(There's something he's forgetting.)

Later, Wake will wonder how he didn't recognize the sound of his own voice screaming in his head or the sensation festering in him like fruit left to rot on its vine. Today, he's occupied.

"I need to get back the summoning pool. Can you point me in the right direction?" says the guy shoving a handaxe into his belt. So sue him, he hadn't really be in the right frame of mind to make note of cardinal directions before March bundled him into a carriage.

INITIATION (offering, part 2)

It's a dark and stormy night.

—Christ. Imagine if that's really how this started? What a load of bullshit.

Only it is. And it does.

Objectively, the sensible thing to do at this hour is to wait for daylight before making his way to the shrines of the Solvuun gods. Wake's spent all day gathering the right materials. At this point, he should just climb the stairs back to room laid aside for him, stoke the fire in the little hearth high, and pretend for a time that there's nothing to be afraid of in the wind and weather and the harrowing dark.

Subjectively? No time like the thematically ominous to set out on a quest.

So here Wake is, pale and rain sodden, armed with a lantern (flashlight? check) and that handaxe (gun? close enough). He's looking for a partner to make the trek to the shrines in the early hours of evening. If there's a public meeting house or a place where people seem to be congregating despite the storming, he tries there first. If not, he's not above tracking down fellow Summoned someone may have mentioned offhand in earlier interrogative conversation. The pitch is more or less the same regardless:

"I'm headed to the shrines. I think I'm supposed to have a partner when I go."

What, that isn't convincing?

HORIZON

From the little room in Solvunn, it feels natural to do. Easy. Like parting a curtain. Like slipping under the surface of still water. From the other side, in the Horizon, it's like coming awake with a hard jerk. His heart races. His blood runs cold. The pressure in his ears builds to an agonizing crescendo. Then pops.

In some dark corner of Horizon, a door with a spiral marking on it Becomes. Beyond the door is a too big attic room. Inside it is a desk. A typewriter. Maybe the Writer is there too.

If he isn't there, it's because Wake's gone wandering—poking into darker domains, and whatever strange corners of Horizon he can picture himself in. If he's drawn to exploring domains with spookier aesthetics, then we'll all agree to call it being genre savvy and not masochism.

WILDCARD

[Wake can be found:
- In the library
- Being incredibly normal about trying to get information on the second settlement
- Asking other Summoned invasive questions about how they got here, what they remember from before they arrived, and what they know about current events
- whatever else; feel free to throw anything at me, or shoot me a PM if you want to make plans]

initiation

[carmesi]

It is quite indeed a dark and stormy night (and as much has been a common conception in Solvunn for the past couple of weeks) when a newly-arrived Summoned approaches Wanda. Wanda, who is making her way from the Primary Settlement to her home, a little ways out, using her magic to create a buffer between herself and the perils of the persistent storm.

And yet she pauses, turning towards the man.

He is pale and rain sodden, while Wanda stands in the same spot as him, dry and untouched by the rain. Headed to the shrines, he says, and she but studies him for a moment, expression hardened as if trying to pinpoint if it really is very convincing at all.

"You've chosen an unusual time of day for it," she responds, but it's not like there is a set schedule. She raises a hand, tentatively, as if asking for permission, before settling it on his arm; cold and wet turns warm and dry after a charge of red magic springs forth from her hands. "Step closer. You wouldn't want to catch a cold."

'Closer' meaning inside the sphere of her unseen magic, where neither rain nor wind can affect them.

Link | The Legend of Zelda: BotW/TotK

[newmemorywhodis]

[[ooc: I’m not sure on canon point yet, so it’s a bit wibbly wobbly as to whether Link is from BotW or TotK. For the purposes of this let’s just say his right arm is completely covered and so no one see whether it looks different or not!]]

Thorne: Sorting tomes
Link does not know much - or anything - about library organisation. So of course, his method of ‘shelving’ just involves shoving books into whatever space is available.

Which of course means he now has a book flying right at him.

In surprise, he doges out of the way with a backflip. From Link’s perspective, time briefly slows - but he doesn’t want to attack a book, so he lets time go back to normal as lands deftly on his feet, blinking at the book that now lies innocently on the floor.

Thorne: Serene Steeds
He’s never needed a spell to calm horses before. He’d always just used a soothing murmur and reassuring pat for that, and his own ability to read a horse’s body language. But they had said that just saying these words would help, and…well. Of course Link was going to try.

He had to find out if it would actually work.

So he says the words. But they come out more like a question than a statement. And having never done anything like this before, he doesn’t know what kind of focus is required.

And suddenly, he gasps. A vision washes over him, and he’s remembering riding a horse - his horse, from before the Calamity. A horse whose name he couldn’t remember, and who was now long since dead.

For a long moment, Link just stands there. Dead still, unmoving, as his eyes are seeing something long gone.

Free Cities: Handing out masks
The moment Link heard that help was needed to hand out masks, he didn’t hesitate. He simply put one on himself, grabbed as many masks as he could carry, and immediately went out into the storm.

Someone who’s quick might be able to join him, and help assist. But they will have to be quick, because Link doesn’t seem particularly concerned about having a partner.

And if no one else volunteers, he’ll head out alone - where he’ll approach anyone who doesn’t have one, insistently holding out a mask for them to take.

Free Cities: New Wave, New Age
Link does not remember ever seeing a tarot deck before. Doesn’t know what they’re used for, or that they have any particular magical purpose. But the metal cards look interesting, as does the process of making them.

Special pen in hand, he sits and thinks. What does he want to dry? What speaks to him?

After a moment, he begins to draw. As he sketches out the lines, a shape will begin to reveal itself: a dragon, with a long worm-like body, spines, six clawed legs - and a long jagged horn emerging from its forehead. Around it, Link draws balls of sparking lightning.

Farosh.

New Wave, New Age

[hiswaterknife]

From how he understood the assignment and the process, the cards they draw here are supposed to be personal. His own certainly came out a little too much. Eari comes to a conclusion there must be something in the process that makes people a bit more honest than they themselves plan to. Which is actually useful for him.

Having reached said conclusion, he walks around observing other people's creations. He stops at a table where a man is drawing a six legged serpent. Eari smiles, recognizing the shape all too well.

"Is this a dragon?"

merrin | star wars jedi: fallen order/survivor | strength

[starscollapse]

thorne: north wing

[ Until recently, Merrin had never known a life beyond Dathomir, and her travels with the crew of the Mantis have opened her eyes to a galaxy she could not have imagined once. It had been her intention to continue exploring, to understand the galaxy and the beauty in it, when all she had known for so long was the absence of goodness.

Her arrival here is an unwelcome intrusion on the path she was attempting to forge. Strangers pull her out of water, clothes are shoved at her, answers elude her. They speak of peril here, a world in danger, none of which is unfamiliar to her; much of her life has been spent in the company of the dead, what does she have to fear? Troubled though she is, for the moment, Merrin considers this world to be a curiosity she wishes to know better.

The mention of her exploits has her wary. What do they know? What do others know? Fleeting worries, and none of them breaking through her stoic expression as she explores her temporary shelter.

You may catch her unwisely standing outside for a moment to observe the horizontal lightning, her fingers held out as though she might be able to feel something of its power connect to her own. Fascinating as it is to watch, though, she feels nothing, not even her own inner magick, which only serves to unsettle her more.

Once safely inside the castle walls again, Merrin ventures near one of the rooms, curious as to the accommodations and the others brought here. ]

I do not make noises in my sleep.

[ Her voice is slightly halting, accented in such a way that it would be easy to assume she's from somewhere in Eastern Europe, though her planet of origin is a long distance from Earth. This is an attempt at a joke and, apparently, the way she chooses to ask if they wouldn't mind a roommate. ]

thorne: serene steeds

[ These are creatures new to her, captivating, stealing her thoughts until she recalls her duty here. She need not have come, she knows, but to hear of their fear and that they might be soothed with magic, Merrin couldn't keep away. The sounds they make as they shuffle and jolt in fear of the storm compel her closer, reaching out a hand slowly to rest on one's back with a feather light touch.

This touch alone will not be enough, she knows. They told her — a few words, a calming spell. Not unlike the magick she's called upon before, to protect, to defend, even to attack. This is not hers, though, this is borrowed from a different source, the magic of this world which she seeks to understand. ]

You are not alone — storms bring chaos. Many would fear them, like you, but they will not last.

[ The spell — she remembers the words, they shine like a light in her mind, nearly on the tip of her tongue, but then the winds howl louder, thunder claps with a booming sound, and her thoughts are disrupted for a moment. She's pulled back to another moment far removed from this one, that of tragedy, of a home and of a people destroyed, lives lost in one fell swoop. Her eyes snap open and for a moment, her normally calm and stoic demeanor is shaken, while the horses grow more agitated and she attempts to soothe with another touch again. ]

I wished to help.

[ Her voice is softer, an apologetic tone in her voice, for allowing herself to be caught off guard and distracted. ]

solvunn: goatnado

[ This is a maddening place. Cut off from her own magick, pulled here to help a world already troubled, Merrin finds little purpose or value in herding what they call goats. The rain is heavy, steady, and she hears others speak of damaging winds, of needing to be careful and aware of twisters. Words unfamiliar to her, yes, but she can deduce enough to know this is likely not the best use of their time. It is not for lack of care about the goats, no, but they must be adaptable, able to handle the more extreme weather events. Others need more help, she thinks, but she is nonetheless willing to search for goats gone astray. She's a quiet partner, focused on the task at hand; the sooner they find the goats, the sooner other urgent needs can be tended to.

But this is proving far more difficult than she'd previously assumed, as their steps take them further into the wilds. ]

Perhaps they do not wish to be found.

wildcard!

Open to any other scenario! Undecided on Thorne or Solvunn so hmu either place if you have other ideas and feel free to PM for more plotting if you like!

north wing

[rookvision]

[Some people make noises in their sleep. Others, like Jacob, get caught clambering up the furniture and trying to get up into the rafters for no real reason other than because they could. He's not tried to escape out the window yet, but that's because he's not stupid enough to go out in this weather, and all this restless energy has to go somewhere so—climbing the furniture it is.

He looks at Merrin, with the look of someone who realizes that this looks incredibly odd, but there's an explanation for this that makes sense. No, really, there is. Just give him a minute to think about it.]

...that's rather a shame, [he manages.] I can't get to sleep without some level of noise right in my ears.

Eari | Original Character | The Wheel of Fortune

[hiswaterknife]

[OOC: I will put up full opt-out on his journal soon, but fair warning this harmless and cute looking couple of thousands years old but never admits to his age boy has some dark and troubling stuff in his past as a former leader of a murderous cult, cursed and punished by the gods etc, etc... It's a lot. I can leave any of this out completely, I just need to know. Other than that, he is cute and he is charming (and he is literally forced by his curse to help people)]

Free Cities

PIMP MY RIDE
Eari doesn't look like someone who has ever held a hammer in his life, or even knows what to do with it. Least of all, be able to actually carry out the task. He's small, thin and pale, with narrow wrists and long, delicate fingers. And yet here he is, quite expertly hammering a large board to a window frame. While he's doing pretty decent on his own, he's not beyond enlisting help when he notices the other side of the wood dip, threatening to pull out the nails he's already put in.

"Would you be so kind and held the board for me for a minute? I think it's slipping."

MASKING UP
Upon learning about the government handouts of the mask for the populace, Eari's first reaction is a surprised "How thoughtful!".
He is easy to get roped into a team distributing. He wouldn't have gone into the sandstorm on his own, but would join someone who is already going. He does look pretty disturbed by the storm.

"What a wretched weather. I hope the days here don't look like this on a regular basis."

New Wave, New Age
Eari's design reveals a hand highly trained in calligraphy. It's a Wheel of Fortune that seems to only grow more detailed the closer you look. It resembles a water wheel, but the spokes are spears, and a couple of skulls sneaked in here and there. There are waves, spirals, snakes, and geometrical shapes that fool the eye into illusion of motion.

It is incredibly intricate for something this small, done with only one pen and no color.

Solvunn

Shrine Offerings
Eari's familiar with the offerings to the gods. Very, very familiar. He chooses Soris Immaneus as target of his current act of piety. It's a petty choice, a deliberate fuck you to his own home world's Lord of Balance who cursed him with his current affliction. To get it right, he went into the woods, ignoring the wind and the torrential rain, for his offering. A pair of rabbits. He doesn't know yet what she likes, so it seemed like a nice hello gift.

Goatnado
Eari hates animals. He hates them fiercely. They're loud, smelly and stupid. He hates being cold, and wet, and dirty. He also prefers to leave a comfortable life wherever he goes. That means he needs to find his way out of this quaint, little countryside and into some kind of normal city. The faster the better. That means ingratiating himself with the local peasants first.

Which leads him to standing in the rain, getting more and more wet, more and more irritated, trying to locate the source of panicked bleaks coming from above. The most recent twister has deposited a dumb goat somewhere on the roof of the house.

"For the blasted, endless darkness, where are you stupid animal?!"

As if the goat could not only hear him - a difficult thing in the pouring rain, with thunder rolling through the sky every minute - but also understand and listen to him. He really doesn't want to climb up there.

The Shrieking of the Weeds
In stark contrast to the goats, Eari simply loves the shrieking weeds. He thinks they are hilarious. Especially, when a twister lifts a whole bunch of them and rolls forward both the wind and the weeds howling like a hoard of angry ghosts. He seriously considers getting some for himself if he'll ever have a garden here. The possibilities for entertainment with such silly, little plant are endless.

But he doesn't have a garden yet. Not even his own place. No standing of his own. So whatever ideas he has in mind that would amuse him, he shelves them for now. Dutifully returning the plants to their owners, and the soil. It's a pity, but he can wait. All the while doing his best to conceal genuine enjoyment from watching the mayhem the airborne weeds are causing. Though, sometimes a hint of it slips. And if he's a bit more sluggish at his capture attempts then what? You can't really blame him. He's trying to help, but it's not his fault he's not built for manual labor or chasing errant plant-life across the fields.

WILDCARD
[OOC: Go wild. Feel free to PM this journal for plotting if you have any particular idea in mind.]

New Wave, New Age

[philancer]

Sylvain is not an artist - he typically leaves that entirely to Hilda, in fact - but he’d been drawn by the novelty of it, and his own curiosity about the arcana of this place. While he hadn’t yet started to create anything for his own, the Sun, he’d been meandering around where some of the others were creating images, curious how others would make their own unique sign.

Spotting the intricate wheel over a stranger’s shoulder, he gives a low whistle as he takes in the sight of it. It’s the spears that had caught his eye, the familiar shape one he’s far too familiar with, being a lancer, but as he takes in the rest of the image, the amount of details cleverly tucked into the image of what should be a simple wheel are impressive.

“Wow, that looks amazing! You’ve a talent for that.”

Bela Talbot | Supernatural | The Wheel of Fortune (Thorne)

[cleptes]

💎 Exploring 💎

After her crash course in the history of the kingdom and being told she had a part to play in shaping it's future, Bela spent the next couple of hours trying to find a way out. There had to be a secret door or exit somewhere - based on her knowledge of castles in her own world, there were always secrets to be found.

Should anyone come across her in the hallways, they'll notice a brown haired woman occasionally muttering to herself and feeling the walls with her hands. Not exactly normal behaviour, but she has her reasons.

When it becomes very clear that a way home was impossible, Bela ends up in the library and is immediately greeted with a staff member shoving a pile of books into her arms, being told to shelve them. With an exasperated sigh, Bela walks to the closest shelf and promptly sets them down on it, not even bothering to place them properly. What she wasn't expecting was every single book flying out from the shelf, one after the other; some of them almost hit her in the face, but they all ended up in a pile on the floor.

"Figures. Bloody magical books." Bela grumbles, then reaches down to pick up the books and actually looks at the spine to work out what shelves they belonged to.

She's not happy about it. Not one bit.

---

💎Settling In💎

Before heading to her living quarters for the night, Bela had something to eat and drink, keeping mostly to herself. She spent that time in the main eating area observing other people, rather than engaging with them. Eventually, she will need to talk to other people to gain information, but she didn't think that now was the time for that.

She had high expectations for the living quarters, given where she was. Somewhere private and quiet. To say that Bela was disappointed that she had to share with other people was an understatement - she was beyond disappointed.

"Is this a joke?" She scoffs at the attendant who had led her to the shared space. "Don't you have a single room that I can have? You know, somewhere with more privacy?"

The attendant seemed unbothered by her complaints as they gave Bela a small bow before leaving the room.

"Hey, I was talking to- oh whatever." Heaving out a sigh, Bela glances around the room and heads towards the bed in the farthest corner, flopping down on it.

---

💎Wildcard💎

If you have any other ideas or prompts, feel free to reply! You can also PM me if you want to hash an idea out. I'm also available on plurk marymoo

Settling In

[whatam_i]

The bed that Bela has decided to flop down on is actually occupied, well sort of, there's actually someone under it and when she flops down the bedsprings poke him rudely in the back and he cries out.

"OW! Do you mind?!" He yells and hurriedly moves out from under it, it's a wonder she didn't spy him under there as he is quite tall and his legs were poking out but then again she probably had other things on her mind.

jinora 🍃avatar: lok 🍃 thorne 🍃 the world

[spiritread]

📖 SORTING TOMES

[ Sure, Jinora should be worried about being torn away from her family and the Air Nation. She is, but she's also still a fourteen-year-old girl with a love of books, thirst for knowledge, and a sense of adventure. It's easy to get distracted by the idea of reading something new when she doesn't know where to start and maybe - just maybe - the answers to what she needs can be found in books. That's what she tells herself anyway. ]

[ What started as a hungry thirst turns into hours of reading without moving, a feat for any young one... And then feeling apologetic about adding more work to the overwhelmed staff turning to put her own books away and then heading to the piles both in intrigue and to help. She thinks she knows the system the books are in here and, for the most part, she does. It's not until she tries to turn a historical fiction book into the history section does she learn of the library's sorting system. ]

[ Book goes in. ]

[ Book goes flying out. ]

[ The girl yelps. Instead of hopping out of the way or letting the book fall to the floor she raises her hands and.... Envelops the book in an air bubble. There's barely any rustling of air against other books or people, but the book inside's page ripple like its in its own mini tornado. She releases a breath of a sigh. ]

Caught it.

[ The air bubble dissipates in a small rush of wind, tugging at nearby clothing, and she catches the book safely in hand. She turns it this way and that in hand frowning. ]

That's strange. Wouldn't they worry more about the books getting damaged like that...?

[ Some of them have to be pretty fragile if they're old, she thinks, but does not say. She turns the book back over and looks at the title contemplatively: ] This is a wild love story for it to be real.

[ Not that she sounds opposed. On the contary, she sounds amused? Enthused? ]

🐎 SERENE STEEDS

[ Jinora has never seen just a "horse" before. That's reason enough to investigate the stables in the first place. The secondary reason is that she heard the neighing and crying from where she was and couldn't stay away. Many of the horses stamp their hooves and even well-trained apprentices keep their distances, but either she's not afraid or used to much bigger animals since she leans against the stalls trying to comfort them. It's a mixture of the latter and being more concerned about them than she is herself. ]

Heya, girl. I promise it's not really that scary. How about a treat?

[ Of course, even her own gentle demeanor has very mixed results - some horses don't respond at all, others do but start at the next clap of thunder. Eventually she sighs feeling unhelpful when one of the apprentices offer to teach her a spell. She jumps at the chance to learn one, because she's not one to turn down new teachings. And for a well-learned person of a nomadic monk culture... She can't get any more serene. Mostly. ]

[ Probably. ]

[ For the most part the spell does work - on the horse. She says the spell and does it well on the first one, then the second one... The third one is where it goes awry and she finds her concentration lacking just enough that instead of the horse it backfires onto her. She both notices and doesn't as she takes a step back. ]

What am I doing?

[ She berates herself: ] I'm not a little kid anymore.

[ Jinora you are in fact still just a little kid in the grand scheme of things. She tells herself she's not, because she can't be - not as a Master Airbender. Not when her own Nation needs her. The horse neighs and she smiles apologetically, reaching out a hand. ]

Sorry, it's not you. It's me. You're wonderful, but I can't stay here. You don't know some magic spell to go home do you?

[ It's said as a joke, laughing as the horse tugs at her hair and she gently pushes its snout back - ] Hey, stop that!

[ It almost feels like the horse is trying to make her feel better as she looks blinkingly away. Hearing before seeing someone else in the stables. She holds a finger up to the horse in the universal manner of 'be quiet' before smoothing her clothes over and trying to look more mature than she feels. ] Hi -

They're a lot calmer than they were but if the storm doesn't let up... [ She bites her lip worriedly. ]

🌀 OOC/WILDCARD

[ Just some short prompts to get a feel! If you want to plot PM me or hopewillbloom. Tomes prompt played with like she's been here a few days just for Shenanigans. Feel free to pick any part of Serene Steeds up that works for you! Probably testing her and one other so stay tuned]

tomes

[ordinar]

[Wilhelm, walking by at precisely the wrong moment, sees the book flying off the shelf and throws his hands over his head to form a shield as he ducks. What the fuck? —Only for the girl to stop the book's trajectory midair and, with a few practiced gestures of her hands, float it toward her. When the air pocket pops, the resulting wind ruffles his hair.

Surprised isn't the right word. Coming up on the two year mark in this world, he's seen all kinds of magic, and much stranger things. But he's impressed. The girl looks younger than he was when he first arrived, and she must be new. He's never seen her around before, anyway.]

Nice catch. [He offers her an encouraging smile. Then he flicks a glance at the book in her hands.] It's not one of the books about werewolves, is it?

hazel levesque 💎riordanverse 💎 justice

[aurokinetic]

⚔️ NORTH WING (THORNE)

[ They say they're not prisoners... But it's difficult not to feel like one with a storm raging outside and the wing being guarded as heavily as it is. It makes her itch for a sword or something - anything, but since arriving she hasn't even been able to muster up a pebble. ]

[ It's concerning. ]

[ But she doubts just walking up to someone and asking for a sword will help. Even if fighting off a practical army of zombies hours before would be a perfectly justifiable reason, Hazels gets the feeling they wouldn't get that so she's more watchful and cautious than she would be otherwise. Doesn't seem eager to jump into the fray of court life - she's really not - and after a while of watching storms decides the best position is to approach. ]

[ Half raising a hand to another approaching Summoned she pauses to rub one hand against an elbow. ]

Hi.

[ Helpful! Greetings! She doesn't necessarily look shy, just uncertain of where best to stab this question - her gaze glancing down the corridor before asking: ] Do you know what they're so worried about protecting us from?

🖌️ PAINTING SESSION (THORNE)

[ Hazel has always enjoyed art and making it, even if she'd not been able to do as much of it these days as she'd like (Centurion - Praetor? - of a Legion in active war does that and all). It feels weird just taking time to do it now, taken as far away from Camp as she is -but when in Rome and all that. She had started off fine. Great, even. The piece turning out well for someone not at all traditionally trained in art — ]

[ — and then she grows frustrated not because of her own ability but because with every flick of the wrist the stupid brush wanted to go somewhere else. She groans, readjusts, and tries again. Again and again the stupid thing tried redirecting her and even if it was tiny, miniscule things it took all of the fun out of it until... Finally. ]

[ Finally. She gets up and throws the brush down in frustration and pushes herself away from the canvas - still a beautifully done sketch of the ship itself, even if the colors by now looked more akin to something out of a swamp. ]

That's it. What's the point of art if you're not going to let someone do it on their own?

[ Grumbled. ] They could at least give normal brushes
too.

🎭 MASKING UP (FREE CITIES)

[ Hazel spent a good chunk of her life in Alaska. The idea of a dessert is about as far away from the snowy landscape she'd found home in or the swampier lands around New Orleans. She's not used to it and found herself coughing more often than not during her stay in the Free Cities. In some ways, it's more comforting than any modern place she'd seen - probably, because it feels more like the era she was born into than where she came from. ]

[ With little else to do in this new world - a bizarre statement in itself - she finds herself helping to pass out the masks to the people who venture out. Choosing for the free standard edition, she can't help but perplex over the more... artfully designed one with a wrinkled nose as she holds it up to squint at while walking to the next distribution ]
]

This can't be comfortable. What's the point of all the spikes...?

💎 OOC/WILDCARD

[ Feel free to wildcard/make your own prompts as needed! Mostly seeing what sticks, so feel free to reach out to plot with my by PM or what not! No prompts in Solvunn since I have a character there, but feel free to wildcard as needed! ]

Masking Up

[sonofacesius]

Will had already been running around moving boxes from the apothecary to the new clinic. It had taken a bit of talking to before he accepted a mask and wore it. Camp had somehow convinced him it was a badge of honor to try and brave a sandstorm unaided, and he didn't always think things through. Especially when he had also convinced himself he really wasn't good at much besides helping people. So, he was helping people. At least Nadine had convinced him to grab a mask? He ducked in a nearby building, slamming the door shut against the storm and dropping the box he was carrying. Maybe if he waited a bit it would die down a little more? Unlikely. But worth a shot!]

Oh, trust me, it's not. Neither of them are really. But it's better than the alternative. Which involves coughing up a lot of sand. Eye abrasions. Not recommended.

[Then he got a longer look at the person in front of him and blinked.]

Hazel?

[yeah, kind of hard to forget your boyfriends half-sister.]

You're alright, right? You didn't get hurt in the storms?

[Nico would never ever forgive him if he let you get hurt or go missing in these storms Hazel. Not that she couldn't take care of herself. Actually, she would probably be taking care of him. Still, it was the gentlemanly thing to do right?]

Teddy Roberts | OC | Solvunn | Death (probably; maybe the Star? debating a few)

[tedandroses]

✦ goatnado

This whole thing is like a very, very strange dream.

It's, at very least, not a seizure: it's too linear, too narrative, too — well, realistic. And not enough: usually whatever weird, vivid perception is just...that. Distortion, mostly, sometimes hallucination, but it's in the same world at least. Whatever this is, Teddy isn't probably standing there letting a pot boil over while they wander around an open world that looks a little like Rohan with goats.

Small comfort. Better: if they are going to be summarily dropped into the middle of ...whatever the hell is going on, they reckon they could do a lot worse than what this seems to be. After the initial panic attack wore off and they'd managed to think on what they'd been told, explore a bit, Solvunn, honestly? Sounds at heart not too far from home. For better and for worse: heavy on tradition, devoted, rural, everyone knows everyone and helps out. Teddy knows how those things work, at least.

And things could be a lot worse than being looked at in gratefulness and slight awe.

That part is actually kind of awkward. Much as they thrive under certain attention. (Like an odd karmic do you really want to be famous just as they're determined to get back to their music.)

Maybe that's why, when given a chance to help out, Teddy jumps to it. Tornadoes are not a thing that happens back home, but they've never been altogether good at turning away from something that scares them. It's almost like a dare: it makes them dig their heels in. And the thought of some delightedly-freed goats getting turned around or bodily picked up, and injured or killed -- not to mention farmers losing livestock they depend on -- is a little horrifying.

Teddy's spotted one not too far off from where they're walking. The goats here are big, furry and sturdy. It makes some of them almost shoulderheight on Teddy, a few taller, which they hadn't really considered. Oops.

Teddy carefully raises both hands and clucks to the goat. Aiming to approach in a direction that will -- hopefully -- make it spook back toward home if it doesn't let them approach, they try the friendly version first. "Hey, there you are."

They glance around, trying to see who's nearest who they can drag into helping. One person's not going to be able to catch a goat. Not if they're anything near as fast as goats at home.

[OOC: Wildcards welcome, and so are action tags/brackets -- if you'd rather I switch from prose, I can match! If you'd rather throw someone at them when they're wandering around town, or before they spot the goat, please do! HMU at wingedvoices with any questions.]

[inthenameofhades]

For a moment, Zagreus thinks he's being addressed, and wonders why - this person doesn't seem like someone he's met before - but then he spots the goat, and it all makes sense.

"Hello mate," Zagreus says, since the newcomer appears to be - looking at him? "Are you...wanting assistance?"

And Teddy will notice that appearance wise, Zagreus has a very very noticeable features: namely, one hellish-red eye surrounded by black sclera, and feet that look like they are burning red-hot. So, not exactly your average Joe.

clarisse la rue 💪 riordanverse 💪 the chariot

[areou]

SURROUNDINGS | FREE CITIES

( the world is in delicate and dangerous times. you're needed to help. you're important.

well, duh. she could have told that to anyone, but it's nice to be recognized for once. this world may not be hers — that much is obvious from the military uniform she doesn't recognize (and that's like, her whole thing) and the strange architecture that looks ancient and medieval at the same time (if annabeth were here, she could make more sense of it than clarisse could) — but after a whole semester of terrorizing frat boys at the university of arizona, it's kind of a nice change of pace, to be honest. to feel needed. to be given a quest, sort of. she'd be more fazed about the whole kidnapping thing, but when you're a demigod — well, this sort of thing is bound to happen eventually.

she's still practically in arizona, anyway. sandstorms? check. weather that would make apollo jealous? check. the only thing that mildly concerns her is the lightning flashing in the distance. that can't be a good thing. )

Just for the record, if this is another "who stole Zeus' god-level explosive" situation, it wasn't me. ( she almost says, it wasn't my dad, either, but. it kind of was, actually. she doesn't think ares would be stupid enough to do it again, but he is the god of war. it's literally his nature to start shit. )

SARSTINA | FREE CITIES

( as much as the barracks feel a little like home (like camp), it only takes her about an hour to decide that no one she knows is hanging around with a bunch of soliders. it's not for lack of company that she sets out into the city proper — it's more for the lack of the right company. if these people think clarisse is important, well, obviously they'd have the same idea about her friends. she can't imagine percy or annabeth wanting to waste their time where there are clearly no answers, bumping shoulders with some foreign military personnel who are obviously preoccupied with fortifications and don't have time to answer a hundred of their most burning questions.

she takes a mask and heads to a tavern called the sarstina, which she'd been told is located in the heart of the city. sounds like the perfect place for curious demigods to interrogate the locals. people with information usually hang out in taverns, right? all the back alleys and shady side streets are currently overrun with sand. that leaves the tavern as a convergence point, for better or worse.

she makes her presence known without saying a word, just the loud thunk of her mask hitting the solid wood bartop. the barkeep, unfazed by the new nick in the bartop, asks what he can get for her. )

Looking for a couple of, uh — ( she almost says demigods before thinking better of it ) — new recruits. A boy with dark hair, about yea high — ( she gestures several inches above her ) — annoying as hell. Probably with a blonde girl, about my height, with grey eyes that could pierce through your soul. ( when the barkeep shrugs and tells her he hasn't seen anyone like that, clarisse huffs and slumps against the bartop. so much for that grand plan. ) μητροκοίτης, ( she mutters under her breath in ancient greek, then inhales deeply and rights herself. no use crying about it. ) Fine, I'll take your strongest ale then. Or whatever the fuck you call it here.

NEW WAVE, NEW AGE | FREE CITIES

( clarisse would never willingly step foot in the library unless she was under duress. or desperate. alone, in a strange new world, feels a lot like duress the longer the day wears on. (almost like college, in a way. having spent most of her life in the middle of the woods in long island, a huge university campus in tucson felt alien to her at first. she'd been desperate for any kind of familiarity then too.) so it's surprising to her when she feels almost at home in the cadens library, with its grand columns and wide open spaces that echo if you speak too loudly. it's practically a temple, like the ones nestled along the shoulders of mount olympus.

before she even has a chance to look around, she's being ushered to a table covered with metal and strange pens that look like something the hephaestus cabin would make. she's not entirely convinced she should participate in whatever weird ritual this is, but the practitioners are somehow very persuasive. she takes a seat and picks up a pen.

clarisse isn't particularly an artist, but she'd picked up a few skills from arts & crafts at camp half-blood. in the middle of the card is a crude illustration of a chariot, with a figure of a girl at the reins, her back turned as she pulls behind her the huge carcass of a drakon (a serpentine beast the length of several city blocks). tall buildings rise up on either side of her. a vulture circles her overhead. underneath the image she writes: THE WAR CHARIOT. )

So ... are we supposed to keep these, or what?

SHRINE OFFERINGS | SOLVUNN

( offerings to the gods are par for the course when you're a demigod. clarisse, despite having left camp half-blood months ago, still hasn't kicked the habit of burning an offering to her dad every day, and she's threatened anyone who gives her funny looks when she pulls out a portable lighter and burns a piece of toast or whatever. old habits die hard. even despite her complicated relationship with ares, it doesn't feel right not making the offering. maybe that's something she needs to work on. maybe it's something she needs to let go of. but that's a whole lot easier said than done.

she's never heard of any of these gods, though. who the fuck is cadaevos and why should she care? it strikes a chord with her, some dissonant thing that makes her skin feel like it's vibrating, like she might get smited just for honoring some god zeus doesn't approve of, like she might inadvertently start a cross-pantheon war for making an offering to some ancient mortal enemy she's never heard of. is zeus even watching? with all the lightning in the sky, it makes clarisse nervous. she's seen the fury of the gods in person. but if these gods are anything like her own, she knows how far a divine offering can go. it still makes her feel uneasy, making the trek to the shrines, but surely if she arrives in good faith ... how bad could it be?

just in case, she whispers something to herself in ancient greek as she walks, an old hymn to zeus, praying for an easy death if that is to be her fate. or, you know, he could protect her. that would be nice. come on, gramps, throw her a bone here. )

Κικλήσκω μέγαν, ἁγνόν, ἐρισμάραγον, περίφαντον,

ἀέριον, φλογόεντα, πυρίδρομον, ἠεροφεγγῆ,

ἀστράπτοντα σέλας νεφέων παταγοδρόμῳ αὐδῇ,

φρικώδη, βαρύμηνιν, ἀνίκητον θεὸν ἁγνόν,

ἀστραπέα Δία, παγγενέτην, βασιλῆα μέγιστον,

εὐμενέοντα φέρειν γλυκερὴν βιότοιο τελευτήν.

I call upon you, great and pure, resounding and illustrious,

You whose blazing, rushing fire shines through the aether and flashes in clouds

With the ear-splitting clap of the striker and victor

Incomparable god, wrathful and pure, I call upon you, lord of lightning,

All-father, ruler, Basileios, judge,

May you look upon me kindly, and make my life's end proud and sweet

WILDCARD

( feel free to throw me anything, regardless of territory. i'm just here to have fun. if you'd like to discuss different prompts, you can find me at poohsticks or pm me! )

Shrine Offerings

[inthenameofhades]

"I'm afraid Lord Uncle Zeus isn't likely to hear you here mate," Zagreus says, as he appears at Clarisse's side.

His appearance will seem rather sudden, seeing as he's Dashed towards her - shifting through space quickly, like a mix of teleportation and phasing that leaves streaks of red light behind him.

And if the reference to 'Lord Uncle Zeus' wasn't enough of a clue to the fact that Zagreus definitely wasn't a normal mortal guy, the mismatched eyes and feet that were glowing red-hot would definitely give the game away.

Wynonna Earp | Wynonna Earp | Free Cities

[pacificator]

S U R R O U N D I N G S

[ She's special and important and she is so fucking tired of being either of those things. She was never supposed to be chosen – that was Willa – but, whatever, she got the nod and she's got her own damn war to fight, one which requires her to be back in the Ghost River Triangle instead of in this desert, in this military get-up, getting sandblasted out here on the Fury Road.

Even worse, there’s no muzzle tucked into her boot, pressed against her calf; no weight at her hip. She grabs one of the stuffed shirts wandering by, gripping their sleeve. ]

Look, you want me to fight for you? Fine, whatever. But I need my gun. What am I gonna do without it, give the bad guys a stern talking-to? Write a strongly worded letter?

Where the hell is my gun?

W E N C H

[ Unsurprising, maybe, that she ends up in the one place in town with wench in the name, but she opens the door to the tinkling sound of broken glass as one patron takes a swing at another and yeah – it feels like home.

There's no one for her to meet yet and no quiet conversations to be had, but she needs a drink. The goddamn military uniform puts a little bit of a cramp in her usual drinking strategy – namely, having some lust-blinded cowboy buying them for her – but she manages to coax a few out of some reasonably generous patrons. Even better, a few hours in, she finds herself at a table opposite a grinning, overly confident opponent who took one look at her slim frame and figured he'd win a drinking contest, easy.

They're five shots in and he's starting to look a little glassy-eyed. She knocks her next back and starts looking around for a new opponent. Without pool tables around for her to run or poker chips to win, she's got to make some cash somehow. ]

So, who's next?

S A R S T I N A

[ She's not Dolls; she's not a soldier. And she's for damn sure not going to sign up to fight for some uniformed assholes just because she got dragged out of her world and into this one. All that to say: staying in the barracks was never really her long-term plan, even before the would-be recruiters started giving her the cold shoulder. But it's not like she's got a lot of choices for alternate housing.

She hears about the Sarstina from somebody one night at the Wench: a place where she can get a roof over her head and a bed to sleep in for the cheap price of slinging drinks or washing dishes. Even better: the place only needs a longhorn skull hanging over the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar to make her feel right at home.

A mechanical bull wouldn't go amiss, either, but that seems more like the Wench's style.

She's not much of a bartender, but she can pull beers and barback easily enough, even if she's not so hot at fixing stuff up. Wynonna moves through the inn, pausing at a table where a patron is finishing up a drink. ]

Get something else for you?

W I L D C A R D

[ looking for something else? PM this journal or hit me up at repeatandfade ]

W E N C H

[catholica]

( matt can hear how intoxicated the man she's playing with is so it's no surprise to him when she decides she's done with him and asks for a new opponent.

he doesn't recognize her voice so he's guessing she's a new arrival and while matt's constitution is high, he's impressed that she's done five shots and sounds like she's absolutely fine.

it makes him think. )

He didn't take you seriously.

( that's what matt says when he approaches, cane in hand and glasses fixed to his face. )

Sounds like he's going to pay for it too.

Red mac Raith | Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden | Strength

[macwraith]

SOLVUNN

A - STORM

[ Red is no stranger to rain and turbulent weather. The nature of this lightning, however -- or, rather, the unnatural look of it -- bears nothing good. He might be new here, but surely that's not normal. ]

Fine weather we're having. [ He remarks with wry amusement, head tipped back and eyes squinted against the glare reflected off the clouds above. His voice carries a distinct lilting accent, Scottish to those who've an ear for it (and have heard of the place, far away as it is). Another flash of lightning streaks horizontally across the sky; no thunder comes. Red's brows scrunch. ]

Please tell me it's not always like this.

B - GOATS

[ The folks here in Solvunn have been kind from the start. They seem warm-hearted, hard-working folk, the sort of community spirit in them that Red finds familiar and heartening. If he's been brought here and here he must stay for now, then the least he can do is pitch in. There's plenty around to do.

Red makes his rounds through the settlement, asking where he can help. He's no carpenter, but he can hold a hammer. He ends up assisting with the mending of fences, windows and other damages, carrying heavy items for locals less equipped to do so in a hurry, and of course... going after the goats. ]

Now how on God's green earth did you get all the way up there, wee one?

[ He stands beneath a sprawling tree somewhere just at the outskirts of the primary settlement, arms crossed as he stares up at the little black goat urgently bleating up in its branches. To anyone passing by, he'll turn and wave them over. ]

Ho there, mind lending a hand?

storm

[starscollapse]

[ While rain isn't unheard of on Dathomir, it is not a frequent occurrence. She might almost feel something like whimsy (if she were capable of that feeling) at the sight of it were it not for how unrelenting the worst of it is. The lightning fascinates her, though she understands it to be unnatural here, from context clues.

As she speaks, Merrin's accent will resemble that of someone from Russia, though her actual home planet is quite a distance from Earth. ]

I do not know, myself. I have been here only days now, as you. [ Or, she assumes, given the question he asked. ] I heard them speak of... twisters [ a brief halting sound on the word ], but I have not seen such things yet.