TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[abraxasmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to the fifth 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 the 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. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.

Our Setting pages are full of information on the world of Abraxas, and an overview of the story so far can be found on our Game History page! Anything on that page - including information about the Horizon and the Singularity - can be assumed to be told to newcomers after they arrive, no matter which faction they are received in. For more information on Ambrose and the apprentice mages, Marlo, and Rowan, please see our NPCs page.

You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective questions threads— 1, 2, 3, and 4.

Arrival

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 actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying 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. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

Scenario One: Welcome to Thorne

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. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.

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.

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 a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He 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 sighs with relief:

"Finally!"

Ambrose's expression brightens, relief visible across his features. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.

"Oh, thank heavens," he says, closing the book and approaching you with a sort of worn-out relief. “I was beginning to believe we’d never get it exactly right.”

Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem to visibly relax, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.

"Please, come with me," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle. "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."

One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and 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.

Once inside the castle you're taken 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), or you can wander around and meet the others.

There's also a dining hall stocked with a rotating 24/7 buffet in celebration of the new honored guests. Somehow, your very favorite food is part of the rotation (or at least an attempted recreation of it given the limited technology available to the Thorneans). The town surrounding the castle is all abuzz as well, with most shops and services willing to give free samples of their wares to the new arrivals.

You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).

Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and most of the cells stand empty.

Scenario Two: Welcome to Cadens

You find yourself pulled from the water by a pair of strong hands. Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a warm hard floor. As your senses return you realize you're on dull ruddy stone and surrounded by strangers. 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 on the far side is a raised pedestal with a card propped on it. The card bears an arcana symbol.

You feel weak. Drained. Any abilities or magical powers you have seem far away and impossible to access. You're in what looks like a cave lit by dozens and dozens of torches set into the wall. There's no furniture or decoration to be seen besides the pool. It's almost uncomfortably warm and there's the sound of rushing wind somewhere in the distance. Flickering shadows obscure the faces of the guards. A robed woman stands off to the side, looking at you anxiously and then to the authoritative woman standing before you. She's grinning, dressed in a fancier uniform than the others. There's a sword at her hip. A guard covers you with a blanket and returns to their place in the semi-circle.

The woman with the sword gives a nod of approval and smiles warmly.

"Sorry about the circumstances."

She gives you a good hard look before standing again.

"Take a minute, catch your breath, you've had quite a shock. Take it nice and easy. 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 nod to the robed woman off to the side.

Marlo Reiner steps back and the robed mage approaches to help you up.

"Come with me, please." 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. Shelves of wooden boxes and cloth bags line them, unidentifiable parts of what might be machines are tucked into corners and propped against shelving units. "This is one of the Free Cities' outposts," the mage explains as she leads you. "We're honored to have you with us, I'm sure you have many questions but please save them. You need to recover!"

You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military outpost on the outskirts of Cadens city. You're brought to a room in the barracks that's been prepared. Each barracks room is rather sparse and utilitarian. Six simple beds set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You're told the world is in a delicate and dangerous times and you're needed to help. You're important, you're told, and they're very grateful you're here.

You're asked to stay close for the time being, but to make yourself at home. The outpost is more a proper military base than the name implies, with full facilities. The barracks 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. There's a mess hall that has food available from sun up till a few hours after sundown. You're even encouraged to make use of the training grounds, if you'd like, with non-lethal training weapons available for use and obstacle courses set up. And the city of Cadens is only a couple of hours away by wagon - though you're asked initially to please be back at the outpost within a few hours of the sun going down.

For your own safety.

Scenario Three: Welcome to Solvunn

The feeling of floating is the first sense that comes to you as the edges of unconsciousness start to ebb. Sunlight filters through the rippling water as you open your eyes, making you squint. Before you have the chance to panic and inhale, firm hands grasp your arms and pull you to the surface of the water. Moments later, soft warmth is wrapped around your shoulders as you're guided on unsteady legs out of a pool of water. You're lowered to the soft grass. Men and women in simple garments with lavish embroidery stand by, waiting with bated breath, glancing seriously at an old man in an ornate robe. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and in the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. His eyes move quickly over the page, and he mumbles idly to himself.

Any strength you may have possessed feels as though it has slipped through your fingers. Any abilities or magical powers you have don't come to the surface no matter how hard you try. You're in a grassy clearing in the midst of a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. A gentle breeze blows through, carrying the scent of flowers and herbs from an ornately decorated altar set off in front of one of the stone doorways. The mage closes his book and steps out of the water, addressing a matronly old woman. Behind her are two younger people, a rough-looking man, and a meek young girl, both of whom are also watching the mage.

“I detect no ill will from the gods, it seems we've been blessed with success.” Those that had gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased.

The old woman smiles and steps forward, offering to take your hands and help you stand. “Any gift the gods give us is one we will happily take. I'm certain you have many questions, and they will all be answered in time. For now, rest and know you will be taken care of.”

She pats the top of your hand and steps away with a serene smile, letting one of the others come forward with some clothes that seem to fit you perfectly. The rough-looking man from before steps forward once you're decent 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 settlement.

You find out you are in the Primary Settlement, the first of three that make up Solvunn's great territory. The settlement is situated between two lakes and is humming with life. You're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. Rowan explains that the living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be, that local families would also be happy to host you in their home. That there are others like you who have also taken up residence within the three settlements. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world that 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. Welcome to Solvunn.

Everything you need has been provided in this humble apartment, and if it hasn't, there are shops that line the streets and a marketplace in the center of town. Owners of some establishments or stalls are more than happy to give out samples or barter with your time for their goods. Babysitting can be a very lucrative business. You're told of the other settlements, that they'd like you to stay here for now, but if you can find a family to host you, the secondary and tertiary settlements are best to get to with an escort.

There are tales of travelers visiting the secondary settlement without invitation disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective, young traveler.

You’ll find that there are more than enough activities to throw yourself into to better settle into your new life in Solvunn. Work is done in the first part of the day so that families can spend the rest of it together in leisure and work on their crafts - whatever those may be. For those children who are not of school age, they need nannies or storytellers, and there’s always a gaggle of them running about unsupervised. Families with livestock can always take a spare hand, especially since farms are so spread out, they have a tendency to wander. Whatever skills you may possess can always be of use to the community or to honor the gods.

If any of these options are no good for your lifestyle, the main roads between settlements can always use a bit of monster clean-up… just make sure you don’t go alone.

---

Questions

How many slots are open?
Currently, there are 23 slots open for new players. We will process activity check before opening applications, so we will have a better idea of the exact count 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 faction your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their personal morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.

Can I try out more than one scenario?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.

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 the faction 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 once 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 in 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.

I want to wildcard a prompt or use one of the prompts from an earlier TDM that isn't on this one (eg. the library), can I do that?
Yes, in terms of the settings. As Thorne is no longer imprisoning any newcomers, that option is no longer applicable.

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 faction?
In Thorne, characters can leave the castle but not the city. In Cadens, they can take a trip from the outpost to the city. In Solvunn, they can explore the entirety of the Primary Settlement.

Can my character eventually change factions?
Yes. While the faction borders are currently closed, there will opportunities in the future for characters to relocate. For the time being, they are stuck where they are.

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). This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.

Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in every scenario can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.

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 before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).

Can my character go to the Horizon?
First time visitors to the Horizon must be taken there by other characters, through either shared meditation or a physical journey to the Singularity, and all first-timers experience memory loss. For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon.

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. Because of this we would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.

---

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[abraxasmods]

Mat Cauthon - Wheel of Time - Wheel of Fortune - Thorne Arrival

[a_better_man]

1 - First Impressions

At first, Mat was terrified. The darkness, the threat of drowning, the circle of strangers and the ritual room he found himself pulled into. The only immediate thoughts in his mind were they had found him, his worst fears had been right, he'd fucked up in staying behind and now he was as good as dead...

Only that was all wrong. This is not the White Tower and these are not Aes Sedai. Nowhere close. The rush of new information has done little to ease his fear of confusion, honestly only added to the latter. None of it makes any sense - he's never heard of any place called Thorne, can't comprehend that there's a place where men can call on the One Power and use it without consequence. His questions and protests have mostly been dismissed, and the answers given don't make any sense. He doesn't know a damned thing about magics or relics or any of that. And being told he's important...he's special...

That's how this whole mess started in the first place. Joke's on them, he supposes. He's a miserable savior. When it comes down to the wire and the pressure is on, Mat Cauthon fucks off. Only it doesn't seem like it's going to be easy to do that here, in a place he doesn't know hardly anything about. Why'd they have to grab him? If his soul is the one he suspects - and the rest suspect as well, he knows they do - then these people just hammered the last nail in their coffin. He meant what he'd said to Moiraine - the world doesn't need a Dragon like him. This world doesn't, either. Bad things happen where-ever he goes.

But maybe that's all wrong. He does feel better than he has in months. Maybe it all had just been the dagger, and the only thing marking him as 'special' was being ta'veren. If that's the case, this is a damned odd place the Wheel decided he needed to be.

He'll figure something out. He always does. For now...

They've given him finer clothes than he's ever had in his life, and promised a bed and food free of any charge. While he knows it's too good to be true, there's a catch - they want something, of course, they always want something from him - he's not so stupid as to not take advantage. When was the last time he could afford a full meal? And they've said he has freedom to roam the castle, and the city it stands over. May as well poke around a bit.

So here he is, a tall and lanky young man in the white silk tunic and trews the mages gave him, the sign of the Wheel of Fortune emblazoned on his tunic. He's roaming the halls of the accessible parts of the castle, opening whatever doors will open and poking his head out windows to get a proper lay of the land.



2 - Dining Hall


"This is really all just free for the taking, then?"

Mat stares at the laden table, sure he's mistaken. There's more than enough there to feed the whole of his little mountain village! There has to be something more to it, no one just gives food away. But he is no fool, and light knows where he'll be tomorrow, so for now...take advantage while he can.

With a furtive glance around, as though he's sure to be stopped any moment, Mat descends on the table. He doesn't even bother with a plate or utensils, simply grabs a roasted bird leg in one hand and a round of bread in the other, already tearing bits off both with his teeth as he sits. Even as he settling himself at the table he's looking at the other dishes, overwhelmed with the sheer bounty before him.

And it's good! No gristle or stringy meat, no wood powder to cut the flour in the bread. He devours what's in his hands eagerly, messily, not giving one good damn about the crumbs and grease in his beard. He reaches for more, finally at least taking a plate and piling the food on...though now and then his hand dips into his tunic, stashing bread away for later.

Just in case....



3 - Settling In


These were apparently the quarters for people like him. The stolen folk. Mat's not sure what else to think of it as, he was stolen away from his home and life like some unlucky child in a gleeman's story. He's still cautious, still unsure. Kindness like this never comes without a price. But light damn it, he's tired and the last decent bed he'd had he hadn't even been able to enjoy. He approaches one of the open doors, shoulders hunched forward and fingers twisting a bit of thread he'd pulled from somewhere, peering in.

"They said any free bed's up for grabs..."

Those. Those are much nicer beds than the ones at the Green Door. Nicer than any bed he's ever laid eyes on. High and plush and curtained...and this is what they give their freeloading stolen folk? How wealthy is this country?

Fandaniel | Final Fantasy XIV | The Hanged Man - Cadens (Spoilers for Endwalker)

[endcaller]

[cw: Suicidal ideation]

I. Arrival/Barracks

[He is falling into the darkness, towards the heart of Zodiark. All around he can feel the ancient Primal's energy pulsating. Voices cry out in the black, desperately trying to convince him to not do what he is about to do. But the dead hold no power over him, he will seize control of the Primal and turn his wrath on the warriors above.

Someone will slay him, then the star will come undone. The heavens will open and sheer black despair will tear the souls of the living apart. They will witness a hell of his own making and they will die, they will all die and it will beautiful.

Fandaniel hurls his will into the shadows and feels the constellation of souls within Zodiark recoil in horror.

Mine! The Primal is mine now!

Then, suddenly, the darkness around him seems to ripple and shift. He can feel the souls spin away from him followed soon after by the energies of Zodiark. The black closes in on him.

No, this isn't how it's supposed to go, this is all wrong, all wrong...

He reaches out a hand, not knowing if he is reaching up or down anymore. If not for the sickly feeling of motion in his stomach he'd might as well be hanging still.

Something seizes his wrist and pulls him upward. Muffled voices speak and he is rolled onto his side against what feels like earthen tiles. Only now does he realize he is naked and soaking wet. The air is cool on the damp of his skin but he can tell there is a warmth within it. Not the air on the moon... A desert, perhaps?

"He's alive," someone says, and the words gnaw at him.

His lungs are expanding and taking in air, his heart is beating, all sure signs that he isn't dead. One black eye rolls open and he sees the blurred outline of human shapes and torchlight. It is all too much to take in and he closes his eyes again.

Normally he'd throw these mortals away from him, twist them with his magic until they told him why they'd dared to bring him here right when he was about to achieve his magnum opus. But whatever force brought him into this place has stripped him of not just his clothes but his powers. His Ascian essence is still there, he can feel it, but it is distant and remains out of reach no matter how hard he tries to access it. He is trapped in this prison of flesh that had once been named Asahi.

Voices speak above him but he doesn't listen, not even when someone covers his shivering body with a blanket. Maybe if he lies here they will throw him back into the water and he can drown in the depths. It would be so easy to just slip away down there and never awaken again.

The thought is sweet. He imagines dying, his blood cooling, his breath stopping as merciful nothingness closes in. Then he imagines his world, the Source. He imagines its people toppling his spires. He imagines their triumphant, hopeful faces... and it makes him sick! No, he can't die here, not like this. Why should he die but not them? Neither he nor anyone else is worthy of living.

If he has to endure for now he will find a way to fix this. He is nothing if not a patient man, after all.

Yes, it's decided.

He will set his plans back into motion, find another way to destroy all of creation and invite fiery oblivion.

All he has to do is wake up.

With a soft groan he pushes himself upright and the people standing around him back away to give him space. For a moment he sways like a child taking their first steps and he tugs the blanket around himself a bit more tightly before lifting his chin and smiling a black smile at the guards.]

Well! I guess nap time is over. Would you mind repeating all that?

[To his surprise they oblige as they gently lead him away from a deep well and through an underground cavern. He latches on to what bits and pieces of information he can but finds himself distracted as he's ushered past lines of boxes full of machinery. The pieces all look primitive to him, though he can't guess their purpose. If he had the time he knows he could figure it out, he could make those machines sing.

Finally he is led into a sparse barracks bedchamber and a guard holds his arm as he seats himself on the edge of the bed. Once she's satisfied Fandaniel isn't about to tip over she leaves and he tugs his blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

He doesn't move until a new person is led into the room some time later, also wearing a blanket.]

I take it by your clothing, or should I say your distinct lack thereof, that you were pulled out of that well too?

[He frowns and hums thoughtfully.]

Although I do not know this place or its customs. Maybe everyone dresses thus except the guards. If that's the case and you are here to check on me...

I'd like my gruel, please.

[With a cold grin he lifts his bare arms out from under the blanket, hands cupped together as if he's expecting something to be scooped into them.]

II.Training Grounds

[It takes a while for Fandaniel to finally emerge from the room. After a lot of chewing on dark thoughts he decides to explore his new surroundings.

Dressed in drab linens now he pokes around until he hears the distinct din of a training yard. Following the sound brings him to the training grounds. There are men and women sparring against each other and against intricate training dummies. Close by there is an obstacle course.

Fandaniel pulls a wooden sword from the weapons rack and tests its heft. It is sturdy but he could hardly kill anyone with it, which really takes the fun out of carrying it around. He tosses it over his shoulder and starts to whirl and dance his way through the training grounds, not worrying when attacks intended for dummies come dangerously close to hitting him.

He pauses near the first person he sees that looks as out of place as he does, still poised on the balls of his feet with arms outstretched like a danseur about to launch into a routine.]

They have a lot of playthings, don't they? Are they preparing to invade or be invaded?

Jasper | Dragon Quest XI | Judgement

[leitstern]

thorne | living quarters

[The empty bed beside the window has been uninhabited for months. One morning a maid enters to replace the roses in the pitcher. One week later she returns and exchanges the red bouquet with a posy of pink carnations and baby’s breath. Silence is perpetual and habitual - and disturbed that afternoon when the maid breaks with routine.

Bedding is stripped and replaced. Curtains are hung around the bed. Medicinal herbs are bundled with twine and hung to dry. Magic permeates their leaves, infusing the air with the scent of gardenia and sandalwood. Ten minutes later a man arrives on a stretcher and is transferred to the bed. The physician emerges from behind the curtain with a flannel in hand. She wipes her face and remarks he is dead to the world before leaving.

Now there is peace. Now there is silence. The quiet sound of ill murmuring but nothing more.

Nothing until vigorous coughing breaks the peace of those attempting to sleep. Nine hours later, he is awake at last.]

thorne | walled garden

[Bound by exhaustion and physical weakness, Jasper becomes eager to explore once he can climb out of bed and balance on his feet. There is something painfully familiar about the castle and he lingers in memories while traversing its corridors - colliding with people along the way.

One shake of the head and he recalls castle servants praising the gardens during five days of rest. He cannot count whether five days have passed as he enters a private terrace; a hothouse filled with crimson camellias climbing up trellises and walls. He looks up towards a glass skylight through which beats the sun.

Worries cease a moment but his attention returns to earth. There is something almost longing in how he regards the flowers.]

Stunning, are they not? We can only hope to be born so beautiful.

thorne | balcony

[Jasper closes his eyes for a moment to pinpoint his emotions; the serenity and peace of feeling human matched by the silence of evening. It takes a good number of moments before he opens his golden eyes to take in the horizon.

Peace is fragile, delicate like glass.

That realisation shatters the centre of his being. He bows his head and looks down and away from the light of sunset, refusing to let it grace his face. Fingers grasp the railing of the balcony and he leans across to stare into the lower ward. Patrolling sentries man the portcullis. Enter the tower. Citizens meet and embrace.

He turns away in guilt and suffers facing another human being. His hands slide into his pockets and he turns away again; observing the sunset in silence. He speaks after a moment.]

Why are you here?

wildcard

[Want something else? Hit me up at safekeeping!]

sephiroth | final fantasy vii | the tower

[supersoldier]

CADENS; BARRACKS

[Sephiroth gives off the impression of severity on a good day, a man whose aloof temperament usually staves off most unwanted company. And in a mood that is less-than-ideal, he’s banking on it now — a tick of irritation is permanently carved into his brow, his features practically made of hard stone, and he isn’t inclined to spark new conversation with any he might come across.

After all, while there’s a cold dose of irony in being pulled from one world to another yet still existing within a militaristic structure, that’s about where the similarities—and familiarities—end. He has been cut off mid-mission and expected to readjust at a ridiculous rate, expected to be understanding of an unwarranted reassignment and allow his irritation to be cowed by smiling, grateful faces. He feels like a ship unmoored and he dislikes it. Greatly.

All that to say that he makes for terrible company within the confines of the barracks, currently bending over to open the trunk at the foot of a bed, silver hair slipping over his shoulders, and very pointedly ignoring anyone else in the room. The sign of the Tower is visible on his garb, but he does not even bother to question anyone else’s sign, or their names, or what they think of the situation at hand.

Prospects for a warm, friendly barrack-mate? Looking low.]

CADENS; BARRACKS (TRAINING EDITION)

[It’s easy to lose himself in training. The habit’s been long hammered into his bones, and it’s no surprise when Sephiroth gravitates towards the training grounds itself, already having picked up a practice sword (the balance feels all wrong, the reach far too short) and fallen into exercises so familiar it comes to him as naturally as breathing.

But even the familiar rhythm of practice has lost its ease today. He can feel it in every atom of every cell — he’s weaker than usual, slower than usual, not nearly as reactive, as though his limbs were moving through molasses rather than air. And there’s minimal comfort in being told that his strength would return in time, not when one is a SOLDIER, when usefulness was equated to ability and strength, and frustration bubbles up quickly.

And it turns into impatience, for however little it shows — just a shadow of a thing, the downturn of his lips as he turns to face another in the vicinity. And in likely the first attempt to wholeheartedly interact with anyone else since his arrival, he speaks.]

You. Put your guard up.

[He needs to test himself against a live opponent, and whether or not the other person agrees is irrelevant. The way his stance shifts, the way he springs forward should be a fair indication of that.]

CADENS; BARRACKS (BATHING EDITION)

[Despite whatever fuss might’ve been kicked up at the training grounds, Sephiroth does not end his day with sweat or grime still plastered to his person. He’s always been influenced by fastidious, cat-like tendencies of cleanliness, and within the communal bathing room, this much becomes clear.

He sits in one of the tubs, filled with water so warm it steams, the curtain for privacy only half-pulled. Privacy is a laughable notion in a full barracks of any kind, and though he had long earned the prestige of personal space back on Gaia, he does not expect the same here. Pretending it exists is a waste of time, and he doesn’t seem to care if anyone else is looking his way.

There’s a bigger issue, anyhow.

His silver hair, so long that it seems to fill the surface of the tub itself, has a knot. He’s located the offending strand, has isolated it and caught his fingers against it, and stares at it as though it is the most objectionable thing he has ever seen. Blame the events of the day, blame the water and soaps of another world, blame what must be a confluence of terrible luck, blame anything, it doesn’t matter. Sephiroth’s focus is singular, his fingers trying to work deftly to undo the twisting strands.

It’s unsure whether help or advice would be welcome or appreciated, but since when has that ever stopped anyone?]

Garrett Hawke | Dragon Age | Cadens | The Fool

[snarkychampion]

1. Arrival/Barracks

Hawke has been through a lot of strange things in his time, more than enough of them if you asked him, and he's even woken up (many times) in places he shouldn't be. Though that often came with a hangover, a more fun night before, as opposed to here. One minute he's in the Fade, fighting for his life, and he tries to fight off the hands attempting to help him out of the water at first, but he feels weaker than he's been in a long time. So weak that his instinct to get into a fighting stance, reach to his magic, gets him no where and he just sits down. If this is the afterlife he knows a lot of people who are going to be pissed.

His eyes flicker between the woman and the sword, first thing of course going through his mind is how to get the fuck out of here, but Hawke bites his tongue and waits. Prime Minister. Some title. Fine. It doesn't seem wise to go running off at this point and so he follows along. For now. This seems a bit worrisome for a way to wake up, it's not as if it's rare for mages to be snatched and brought somewhere new.

It's only when he's in the barracks that he tries to find a corner to think, make a plan, honestly his usual plan is do whatever seems right and escape, but hasn't he learned how stupid that is recently? It is in that corner that Hawke tries to call on fire and waves his hand, only for ... nothing. Nothing. Or not nothing, but it reminds him of when he was a child, before it came as easily as breathing, force being put into it but grasping for something that isn't there.

"Fuck me." He summarizes pointedly, probably a bit loudly, but that seems like a bloody understatement.


2. Baths

It's been awhile since he dealt with communal bathing, but some things are never forgotten, and who knows how long it's been since he bothered. Being on the road doesn't exactly leave room outside of streams and even if the blood and grime isn't currently on him, it's as if he can feel the Fade and all of it under the surface of his skin. Scrubbing invisible shite away might not be helpful, but oh well.

Hawke forgot to pull the curtains fully around the tub, mostly due to disinterest or because his mind is swarming enough as it is, but it wouldn't be the first or last time he ends up naked where he shouldn't be either. (There's a lot of these instances. Shhh. It's best not to know.) He dives under the water and stays there possibly longer than he should, until his lungs burn, until he has to be reminded that he is in fact alive, his heart is in fact beating, and this entire situation is real. He surfaces with a harsh gasp, swearing under his breath, batting the side of his head as he feels like there may have been water dripping to his brain.

"If only this was a vat full of ale." How beautiful that would be.

3. Food, glorious food!

Free food is the type of thing that you probably shouldn't trust but instead he voraciously descends upon it like a half-starved beast. Hawke got very used to road food which is basic protein and hunted animals if he got lucky, and some weeks were leaner than others. It was a drastic change after an every day option in Kirkwall, a blessed life to a scavenger, but it is what it is. Hawke stacks food, more than it seems like he should be able to consume, and sits down in a better mood.

Due to that mood, and getting his bearings somewhat now, plus the lack of monsters trying to stab him, Hawke glances around looking for others there. A natural extrovert, as soon as he spots someone he flashes a smile and tries to wave them over. "Oi, I'm bored, please entertain a walking corpse, I beg of you."

4. Wagon

Listen, the truth is, when Hawke first sees one of the wagons, his eyes light up. An escape, finally. While his feet could take him anywhere he might want to go, he knows nothing about this land, and his boots aren't even good enough for that. Of course! he says with a quick smile, about coming back in due time, right, yes, that will happen. Absolutely. He is not trying to fly the coop and take his chances in the nearby city, that doesn't sound at all like him!

It might be best to stay with what you know, but he has been staying for longer than he likes. Hawke stretches out on the wagon as best as he can, assuming since it'll be a bit before they get there, he may as well get comfortable. Hands cross at the back of his head, resting back, humming a tune under his breath. From the Hanged Man, from the bards that used to either amuse or annoy them in the middle of a day, he can almost smell it now. Best not to get lost in memories, though.

"You know, this could be worse," he says out loud. If someone's been with him all this time, it's clear he has not actually been ignoring anyone. He likes people. It's just a lot of noise in his head these days. "One time I was on a wagon that would make even the strongest stomach empty in ten minutes flat. The driver would have to pay you to get on it."

5. Wildcard

[Want something or inspired to do something else? Go for it! Hawke is friendly and will be wandering around a lot willing to chat. Message waftingcurtains with questions/thoughts.]

Link [The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask] - Solvunn, Hanged Man

[72hr]

[A.]

[ This could be so much worse. Link thinks this to himself as he follows the stranger up a narrow flight of stairs to a tiny apartment, but more than feeling afraid or depressed or even happy, he simply feels apathetic. Sure, why not? This makes it the second time something like this has happened to him — maybe third, depending on how far one could stretch the comparison — and this time, he isn't being dropped into someone else's body. That's certainly worth something, if this kind of thing is going to be happening to him again. Favored by the gods, world on the brink of disaster... sure, whatever. The usual thing. Why not, right? He honestly doesn't mind having being brought here, although an invitation would have been more considerate.

As many questions as he has about what's really going on here, and what he's going to have to do about it, the heaviest one on his mind is where he can find that hot meal the guy mentioned. Link thanks the man as soon as he feels it's polite to do so, and a few minutes after he leaves, the fair-haired, diminutive boy emerges onto the street to follow his nose. ]

'Scuse me. [ The person standing beside the food stall hasn't seemed to notice him. Link can't tell whether they're another customer or the owner. ] How can I get... some of this?

[ He isn't entirely sure what this is — he'd like to say that neither Hyrule nor Termina had any food like this, although he knows he isn't exactly an expert on that topic — but it smells like meat. The best smell. ]

[B.]

[ Every local he's met so far has made a point to tell Link where the settlement's schoolhouse is. He's nodded and thanked each one for their directions, as attempting to argue with or correct them is just a waste of time. When he looks the way he does, he can't blame others for treating him like a little kid. But then, someone tells him where he might be able to find work, and the schoolhouse just to happens to be on the way there. If he's going to keep getting told to stop by, he might as well do it.

It's the middle of the day when he arrives at the school, in time to watch a small group of children playing in a field behind the building. Link watches for a while, keeping his distance. They remind him of the Bombers, but... that's all. He knows he doesn't belong in a place like this, even if he wanted to join them, which he does not. If anything, watching them makes finding a new sword and shield feel even more urgent.

A teacher emerges and starts to call to her students. It looks like there won't be anything for him to watch anymore. With a flustered huff, Link swiftly turns to leave — and finds himself running smack into a person who'd been standing just beside him, for who knows how long. ]

Ow! Er — [ Something smacked him right in the nose. He instinctively stumbles backwards and covers his face with his hands. How the hell did someone sneak up on him like that? Either way, he hopes he hasn't knocked them over or anything. Link peeks from behind his fingers, still wincing. ] S-Sorry! I'm sorry! Are you alright??

[c. wildcard me?!]

[ He needs new equipment, better clothes, and more food. Perhaps you've run into him somewhere along the way?? ]

hythlodaeus | ff14 | solvunn | The Empress | Endwalker spoilers

[lackingtalent]

1- arrival

[The summoning was not exactly a smooth experience. Hythlodaeus, or more accurately, a cluster of aether which had once been known by that name, subjected to the vague pulling and pushing of the aetherial sea; was content.

If he could feel contentment, of course. For feeling within the underworld was relative. Feeling was but a memory which felt distant, almost as one should remember a dream- surrounded with brief flashes of imagery. A vantage point of so many galaxies at the very edge of the universe, something dark, foreboding, at the very top of it, threatening to bear down and destroy even this. Yet he remembers that he was not afraid. There was something- someone important alongside him. There was someone else- precious fragments, really, just fragments, but so special there as well, and ... flowers.

A field of Elpis flowers, blooming even there.
Yes, he remembers.

...Yet that dream, the series of brief recollections forming a series of pictures, was over. As was his part within it. How long he had been floating, he does not know. All he knows is that returning? It was just as beautiful as he thinks he imagined once.

Yet there's a distinct pull at his half-dissipated aether, and he finds himself falling.

Then-
A sensation, uncomfortable. Light? And feeling and-

It stings, slightly.
He finds himself within water.

He finds hands reaching for him. Strange. Hands?
And he finds-

He's on his knees. He's shivering. Nerves and synapses and muscles are firing signals of discomfort, of coldness at his brain, which is quite overloaded with such sharp sensation after so long of nothing.

But more- he's breathing and- he needs air and-
He's being addressed?]


2- Shops

[He is clothed now, but he does not feel he is clothed. The attire he had been given, namely an embroidered dress shirt as well as black trousers, is certainly enough to cover what the natives of this world feel deserves covering, but for him, it's almost as if he is walking around in smallclothes.

He can't exactly help it. Yet even now, he simply doesn't have it in him to complain at what is offered. These garments(?) are something bestowed upon him in kindness. Nothing is requested for them, nothing is expected of him should he take them. But it's apparent by the way he holds himself within them, the way he walks, the way that he almost seems embarrassed by every single glance his way, that these clothes are entirely too form-fitting for his liking. And they're different from other people's.

He can't say those of Solvunn have been remiss in their summoning. The details of his existence here, what is expected of him, as there is always something expected, have indeed, been detailed- often and well at that. The populace appears to be kind. Such kindness is reflected in multiple offers of accommodation, food, and assistance that appear to be coming at him without cease as he moves to each stall of some open-air market browses the wares of such- half-laughing as he engages in conversation with each storekeeper, making a point of asking, and learning their names, changing the subject to other things- their stock, their businesses, their lives, their loved ones- as courteously as he can.

Regrettably though, despite all of these offers, despite all of these delightful little stories, no article of clothing with (at least) a hood seems forthcoming.

Oh dear.]

3- Flowerfield

[The sun has begun to retreat behind the skyline- and just this once, the sky may appear reminiscent of the sky he once loved- saturated in light purples and glowing golds- and perhaps, perhaps, if he views the sky with halflidded eyes, it might appear more like his world- loved so deeply, and lost so bitterly.

He can't really say for sure. His memory of that world would never fade, that was something true enough. But he has to wonder if he's even capable of making any sort of comparison for his Sight, for certain, is quite changed.

As he stands within this field teeming with wildflowers, with so much disorganized, unoptimized life that someone would have decided deserved to live for life's sake- not for a purpose, not for a point- he half wants to laugh.

No- He really wants to laugh. For additionally, he is viewing this world as the people from it must view it. His Sight is gone. No patterns are in anything. No pulsing colours that defy description in the trees, the flowers, the sky, beckons to him, urging him to peer closer. There is no hidden beauty that he can perceive.

Everything appears at face value. And while, indeed, he wants to laugh- he can't help but feel as though something important has been lost.]

HELEN | THE ILIAD | THE TOWER

[lest]

SOLVUNN

Where Helen went, heads turned. Old men gossiping in front of shops fell quiet. Women whispered to one another as they churned butter. Children followed after her, nearly stepping on the backs of her shoes. She wore the same simple garments as the others, but draped over her shoulders the clothes looked different: the material seemed finer, the embroidery richer when adorning her beauty.

She was rarely idle. Mornings were spent in the shade cast by a stall whose owner had graciously lent her the space; her fingers worked a loom with exquisite skill, weaving a king's tapestry of a great warrior's send-off. Noon found her in the marketplace, young boys and girls at her feet, a particularly bold child in her lap, listening to stories of heroes and monsters brought vividly to life by Helen's voice.

Or, a shawl draped over her hair, she wandered the length of the settlement until her feet came to the road. A queen without nation, a mother without daughter, twice-wedded to shame, she was rarely accompanied, and never alone. Melancholy proved her stalwart shadow; grief, a child tugging insistently at her skirts.

viktor | arcane | death

[techmaturgy]

i. cadens - arrival (cw: blood)

[Well, he’s dead.

That’s the logical conclusion, anyway, not that he’s thinking particularly logically in the haze of whatever this is. He’d sort of expected—he’s not sure what he expected. Maybe, more nothing, and less water. The water’s not great. Really not great. The more he comes back to himself the more he realizes he can’t breathe, and even though it lasts only a moment before hands are pulling him onto the warm ground and he's gasping and choking and entirely bewildered by absolutely everything about this.

There are answers, sort of, but Viktor doesn’t like any of them. Sorry about the circumstances, they said, like he hasn't just been pulled away from his work. Worse than that, like he hasn't just been pulled away from the best chance he has to save his own life, something he's reminded of when they give him a blanket and he stifles his coughing with it and the fabric comes away red. He folds over the edge automatically, not wanting anyone to see.

So, still alive, for now. Just misplaced. Somehow.

Viktor finds it almost too much to take in, and it's not until he's alone in the barracks room that he allows himself to fully process what all this is supposed to mean. It's apparent that he's been brought to this room, specifically, to allow him some time to recuperate, but he doesn't have time, so instead of attempting to clear his head he gives in to his frustration. There's a chair near the door that he jostles violently with his free hand on the way in, and he all but throws down the crutch they've given him before sinking down onto the nearest bed with some effort, scrubbing a hand through damp hair and letting out a long, shaky breath.

That's about when he realizes he isn't alone (it's you, you're here, walking into this, congratulations).]

Sorry. [He seems to have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the temporary outburst, but at the same time there's too much exhaustion behind the apology for it to seem fully sincere.] I didn't realize anyone else was here.

[Just, you know, forgive him for having a Moment.]

ii. cadens - outpost

[Sitting around in the barracks and feeling sorry for himself, however, is not going to accomplish anything. If this is real, and if everything he's been told is true, somehow, then he needs to get to work immediately, even if it’s the vaguest outline of plan. To his understanding, there are other displaced people here, like him, which means there are patterns to find and puzzle pieces to slot into place.]

a. [It makes him a little more sociable than he might ordinarily be, but for someone like Viktor that mostly just means asking weird questions. Maybe you are nearby in the mess hall, or just trying to get some reps in at the training grounds, and this guy is chilling nearby on a crate or something, taking notes (weird) and looking like he's thinking very hard about a lot of things (he is).]

The card on the pedestal, back in the cave. Did it mean anything to you?

[Yes. Hello. Nice to meet you.]

b. [Or, he's backtracking to the storage facility, just in case he missed something the first time around (because he was too thoroughly addled to catalog anything useful). They did tell him to make himself at home, and though he's pretty certain they didn't mean "go through all our stuff", he finds it pretty hard to care, given the circumstance. Despite experience when it comes to sneaking around in places that he shouldn't be, Viktor knows he will always make some amount of noise, and therefore plays it completely cool if and when someone else is passing through—or has the same idea.]

Ah. Just looking.

[Everything is totally legit!]

iii. cadens - city proper

[Viktor asks around, and finds out very quickly that they're near enough to a city that it's worth making a trip, even if a few hours in a wagon is not really on his list of favorite things. Still, there are academies in Cadens, and museums, which means if he's going to learn anything about the general state of what he has to work with, it's going to be there. There's magic, too—real magic, which is a lot to unpack, and might have to wait. The sciences are what he knows, and therefore the best place to start to get his bearings. What he finds is...interesting. He's not optimistic, not yet, but this is better than being somewhere with no technology at all.

So, predictably, there's a guy here, and he's having a fairly animated discussion with one of the shopkeepers-slash-scientists about what is apparently esoteric nerd stuff. Maybe you understand the esoteric nerd stuff. Maybe it just sounds like a lot of nonsense about the reactionary properties of such-and-such material on whatever-that-thing-is. Either way, it seems a little heated, ending when Viktor thanks the shopkeeper for their time and turns away, intending to head back down the main drag. If there are eyes on him (yours), he offers a shrug, even though he knows he's got no reason to explain anything at all.]

Not as open to constructive criticism as I anticipated. It happens.

iv. misc.

[hey what’s up I got spoilers up to and including episode 7 of arcane—if you need me to avoid anything, just let me know! happy to wildcard anything/anywhere at the outpost or in cadens proper. feel free to shoot me a message!]

peter parker | mcu (nwh spoilers!) | strength

[piqure]

CADENS - BARRACKS or CITY

[ the second time around does not get any easier.

it all comes back through a mind numbing blur - he’s out of the water and on warm stone ground one second, and the next? the memories surface and he scrambles up, trips, blanket gripped too-tight and it’s like he’d never left. except he had, doesn’t remember how and there’s panic setting in, accompanied by the realization his senses are far too dull. people are talking to him and he’s only half listening, mind blanching with what he remembers or doesn’t. new york is still an ever-present blur, broken universes mended and villains helped and mj safe and aunt may, oh no —

he nods politely to what is said, half there but mostly not, mind still piecing too many things together — does dr strange’s spell extend universes? does he exist here or doesn’t he? does it matter, if this world - and his, and everyone else’s - is in some grave danger, still? always?

it’s not something that’s answered in this awkward semi-circle of a welcoming committee though and he’s out of there as soon as he can be and is quickly left to his own devices wondering around in the barracks or the the training ground. neither inspires much confidence, and he spends most of his time peering into faces of strangers, trying to see anyone he might know.

in the end, peter parker cannot sit still. he cannot listen to the instruction of staying close to the barracks for more than one day and so one (uncomfortable) wagon ride later, peter is hopping out and into the big city.

his senses are still duller than he'd like but better than they were. still ringing ears and tingling in his hands numb rather than sensory. he’s not even sticky, not quite yet. it feels strange, heartbeat in his throat. he wants to climb something high and up. he wants to see if sam is still here. dr strange. it seems like a daunting task to find two people in a big city that doesn't have the technology that would make it easier.

he tries to be patient, but patience isn’t in the particular vernacular of his habit, not of an eighteen year old vigilante who hasn’t stopped being thrown into - or throwing himself into - impossible scenarios.

but in the absence of all of his strength, he can still play it smart. he can still!! talk to people! be social! ]

Hi — [ he’s coming up to the side of someone who’s wearing something similarly emblazoned with a tarot sign (his own bares the symbol for strength). the first person he sees, really. ] — Sorry, hi there! Have you been here long?

THORNE; TOWER - LIBRARY

[ he’s been here before. it isn’t exactly easier second time around but the panic is tamped down in exchange for exhaustion. acceptance, too — he leaves behind a new york that’s still his but where he is more a stranger than ever. at the very least, being back here gives him a new sort of resolve. this world needs help, and in doing so, he’ll be able to make sure his world is safe too, right? that’s how the whole multiverse thing worked, a newfound intimate familiarity of how fast things can go absolutely pear-shaped when magic and different dimensions were concerned.

so, he might as well pick up where he left off, and he picks out a book from the library — more confidently than the first time, reaching for a magical topic — grabs an apple from the dining hall, and goes through the halls to find access to a balcony and —

— and starts scaling the exterior wall instead of using the perfectly good stairs. the spider stickiness holds onto the fine stone similarly to the last time, and he can be caught climbing by an open balcony, climbing up, up up because there’s normalcy in heights. normalcy in looking at something from above and being removed from everything for a while once again. a stranger at home as much as a stranger here, even if, when he spots someone inside, there’s a hope for a familiar face. the next guest his eyes land on, he offers a small wave, propped along the bannister and considerable height below him ignored. definitely not awkward. ] — um, hello! The views are pretty cool, huh?

SOLVUNN; MAIN ROADS

[ this was all very rural, rustic, something really straight out of some fantasy book. okay, most of this entire place had felt like that but solvunn especially. there's a lot more talk of gods, and weary warnings passed on to travelers and peter's restlessness reaches its peak in the countryside roads of solvunn.

he isn't particularly helpful when it comes to herding livestock, nearly gets chomped on the ass by an unhappy donkey.
it isn't all too surprisings that he instead finds himself by the roads leading out of town, arms crossed and sorely missing the feeling of his senses being fully there, fully on and with him. the next passerby he sees
he'll try his best to catch the eye of, curiosity getting the very best of him. ] So — what sort of monsters? They said there’s monsters to watch out for. Do you know?

MISC;

[ hi! peter here is from end of nwh so there’s some soft spoilers, but lmk if you’d prefer me to avoid anything! otherwise, he’s also been here before! starters are open ended, and please feel free to wildcard any sort of meeting of running into him in any of the cities! i’ll likely go with cadens for the final arrival, but I’m greedy and didn’t want to limit him just yet! feel free to shoot me a pm for bespoke starters if preferred ! ]

thancred waters | final fantasy xiv | strength | ENDWALKER SPOILERS

[funbreaker]

i. thorne - arrival

[ As Thancred struggles and writhes in the void of nothing, pushing back against whichever force wishes to drag him under and pull him apart, it is not Meteion's eyes filled with lifeless despair that he focuses on. It's his friends, the ones whose bodies he'd clocked hitting the floor one after the other, and how he will do anything to make sure that they survive. He cannot abide the lot of them suffocating out in the blackness of space, their mission failed, their victory unwon.

A hand reaches down toward him and he grasps it, pulling himself out as much as he's yanked. There's piercing light in the darkness and suddenly, he is somewhere.

Where is unclear, especially as he first has to process that he is sprawled out on the hard ground, naked and wet and drawing in deep breaths. He'd felt even his well-trained lungs starting to give in at the end there, between Meteion's trick and being trapped in that dark abyss.

(On the bright side, this is not the first time he's been whisked away to an unknown place with nary a scrap of clothing to his name.)

He stares up at a group of complete strangers, all of them Hyur for some reason, yet with not a single Scion in sight. Is this some trick of Meteion's? He looks past the people who are quickly crowding him at the architecture that serves as their backdrop, towers stretching into the sky and severe stone edifaces that bring to mind first Ishgard and then Gruenes Licht, or what remained of it. It is neither; it is no place he's heard tell of on any shard he's visited, but when they'd traveled to the very ends of the universe, should he be surprised?

From there he's picked up, dressed, and barraged with explanations about his summoning (not again), the Kingdom of Thorne, the royal family — all details that might have been fascinating were it not for the fact that he had something quite important to do. The High Mage and his underlings insist that it was their intention to bring him here, and yet he cannot help but wonder if this was merely Meteion's way of taking him out of play. Any protests on his part are brushed off as he's ultimately dropped off in the living quarters prepared for him and the other summoned. Thancred grants the lush beds and roomy surroundings little more than a glance before he sets off again, intent on obtaining a lay of the land and some more answers.

Which is how he ends up in a part of the castle that, mayhap, he is not supposed to be. If someone comes upon him, however, he's quick to play dumb, turning toward them with a sheepish smile. ]

I seem to have gotten myself turned around. [ He says it without missing a beat despite the fact that he's been mentally mapping out every area he's been able to easily access. ] What wing is this, again?

ii. thorne - library

[ While Thancred may be the Scion least likely to spend much time surrounded by dusty tomes such as this, the fact is that the rest of them are not present. While he cannot be entirely certain of that, he has done enough searching and asking around to accept that if they are here, they're not in easy grasp.

He very much doubts that anything vital will be kept in a library that is so easily accessible, but he has to start somewhere. The history of this Kingdom is likely to shed more light on why they'd decided that summoning various personages from farflung worlds was in any way a good idea.

It's all rather nostalgic in a strange way, reminding him of his early days on the First when he'd been alone, uncertain if he could trust the Exarch and yet determined to get to the bottom of his situation all the same. (He recalls visiting the Cabinet of Curiosities, how his throat had closed up when he saw the name Minfilia printed in countless texts...)

Upon spying a book that catches his eye yet is a yalm or two too high for him to reach, he spots a sliding ladder a short distance down the shelf. Yet there is someone else standing close by, also inspecting the books. ]

Ah, would you mind sliding that over?

[ Despite his inner sense of urgency, he comes across as amiable, fixing the stranger with a friendly smile. ]

iii. thorne - dungeons

[ It is only a matter of time before he locates this part of the castle, the cells located down in the bowels of it that visitors are not meant to see. Slowly but surely he is noting which areas he is not permitted to go, and once he is reasonably sure that he can sneak into them without being caught, he will be doing just that. Patience is a virtue his master taught him long ago, however, and he has little choice but to bide his time and gather more information.

These dungeons, oddly, he could descend into with little resistance. That's likely because the cells all stand empty, and yet he can only assume that was not always the case. What self-respecting castle doesn't have dungeons?

There is unfortunately not much to glean here, though as Thancred does his due diligence in moving down each corridor, he comes upon another lost soul. He drums his knuckles against the bars of the nearest cell to draw their attention, not wanting to accidentally startle. (He can hardly break his ingrained habit of stepping lightly wheresoever he goes.) ]

Every gilded castle seems to have a dark underside, not always quite so literal. [ The corruption in Ishgard, the disease afflicting Voeburt before its fall. Surely Thorne has something as well. ] What do you make of it?

[ What he means by "it" is left rather open-ended. How the question is interpreted by this stranger will tell him plenty. ]

iv. wildcard, etc

[ Please let me know if you'd like me to avoid Endwalker spoilers and I'll be happy to do that for our thread! I'm also up for any variety of other scenarios in Thorne, if you want. PM me to discuss! ]

Zelda | Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild | The High Priestess | Solvunn

[sealingpower]

[A. Welcome to Solvunn]

---

[As she's pulled from the water she has a sense of panic, has she drowned in the Spring of Wisdom?

No, this is something different, her ceremonial garb is gone and she completely nude! Zelda tries to cover herself to preserve her modesty when a warm blanket is thrown over her. She looks around the clearing, taking in her surroundings; the alter reminding her of some of the Goddess statues. She searches the faces for anyone she might know.]

Y... you have my gratitude.

[She thanks the old woman and stands, trying to keep herself covered. Her mind is a fog and she almost feels like she's dreaming. Then someone comes forward with clothing and she smiles gratefully.]

And you as well.

[She quickly dresses herself surprised that the dress fits perfectly. She looks up at the rough-looking man when he approaches, about to open her mouth to ask questions just as he says they'll explain in due time. A flicker of annoyance crosses her features for a moment as she doesn't like not having answers, but she keeps quiet, allowing them to lead her to the horse drawn carriage, again studying the other occupants to see if they're anyone she knows. Regardless, she greets them politely.

Zelda listens carefully to the explanation, soaking in the information. She tries to inquire on certain things, but the man just keeps talking. In the end, she realizes she's in a completely different world! It's confusing but absolutely fascinating!]

[B. Exploring the Town]

---

[The apartment is something quite different from what she's used to and she can see quite a few issues with how she is to care for herself without servants. Those can wait though, there's a town to explore!

As she emerges from the shop, her first look around, the settlement reminds her a little of Castle Town.

Zelda wanders, politely greeting the residents, perusing the shops and market, which slightly reminds her of the market in Gerudo Town, with less exotic goods. She has a sudden pang of homesickness, missing Urbosa, Link and the rest of the Champions, which occupies her thoughts and thus she isn't watching where she's going and walks right into a passerby.]

Oh! My apologies, I was lost in my head. Are you alright?

[C. Finding Work.]

---

[After a few days of settling, Zelda is told she has to help out, everyone works. That is definitely something she's not used to. Sure, she's not afraid to get her hands dirty when exploring Sheikah ruins, but this is completely different. She politely declines any manual labor, knowing she doesn't have the strength for it and instead settles for watching the children. Again, she's not quite used to it, but she finds a way to entertain them by telling them legends from her homeworld of her ancestors and past Heroes. Perhaps you might want to listen as well?

Eventually she is relieved as it is time for crafts. She has yet to get acquainted with a family, so she simply asks for some cloth, a needle and thread to make herself a dress. She's quite the seamstress after all; having made all of the Champion's garb herself. Feel free to approach her to chat.]

dante | devil may cry | the devil (probably)

[subhuman]

mission 01: thorne (canon)

[ Well this is just peachy.

Not like shooting the shit in the underworld is exactly a resort vacation no matter the circumstances, but generally when you are summoned through a mysterious well by a bunch of guys with big fancy tomes and ceremonial garb it's not for anything fun. The mages were really lucky that Dante can take even the most dire of situations in good humor and after a few quips about his sore back and missing pants, he's sent on his way with the other Summoned.

But it doesn't sit right. (And not just because his ass is sore as well.) He can deal with mindless mobs and even the quasi-intelligent demon lord, but humans? With magic? Never a good combination.

He keeps these thoughts to himself for the first few days, taking the opportunity to just rest up a bit and do a little of nosy exploring. It is in wandering the halls of Thorne's Castle that Dante, half distracted as he stares up at a painting and turns the corner, nearly collides with another Summoned. ]

Whoa! Hold on there, speedy.

[ The best thing about this magical castle stay is the food. It's always available and free. He really can't complain about that! Dante can be seen regularly snacking at the 24/7 buffet, although never at the same time. Half the time it looks like he may have just rolled out of bed at four in the afternoon.

Dante scratches his stomach through the fabric of his shirt as he looks over that day's spread with a slight pout. ]

What happened to those fancy little tarts? Don't tell me I missed 'em.

mission 02: free cities

[ "Quite the shock" is sure a nice way to put it. That Marlo seems like an interesting woman--and interesting women have gotten Dante deeper into crap more than he would care to admit. (Truthfully it's mostly his fault, the man can't say "no".)

Being stuck at a military outpost doesn't seem like a great way to start things off either, but the devil inside of him feels weak, almost slumbering. And suddenly taking to the sky in a flurry of red scales and glowing horns probably won't win any popularity contests after just arriving. Got to make of it what he can.

What draws his attention in the end is the training grounds. Dante does a slow loop of the main area, half-watching a few soldiers test their strength off one another. Eventually he comes to stop a few feet away from what he guesses is another Summoned like him. Dante crosses his arms, leaning back against he wall as he just watches the display in front of them. ]

They're really starting us off early, huh?

[ Early conscripts, is that what this is? ]

mission 03: solvunn

[ This place smells like goats. Which is unsurprising given the availability of farm animals walking freely in the main thoroughfair. But no matter the pleasant countryside vibes this village has, being summoned up by a bunch of forest magicians doesn't set a good precedent for the days to come.

With little go off of, however, he has. These goats.

Dante sits perched on the edge of a fence near the center of town as he stares off with one of the goats, slowly chewing some grass--the goat, not Dante, though the latter looks like he might consider doing the same if would give him an edge over his furry opponent. ]

I've smelled worse.

[ The goat doesn't blink, eyes looking in two completely different directions. ]

Who let you off your leash? Or are you another member of the Council?

[ The goat snorts. Dante makes a face then looks up at the people going to and for about their business in front of him. He tries to wave someone down. ]

Hey! Did you lose something?

mission 00: wildcard

[ ooc; I am open to things! Feel free to PM me or hit me up on plurk at doggystyle ]

Shuten-Douji | Fate/Grand Order | The Devil

[sakaya]

[ OOC: Please check out Shuten's Opt-Out/CW post. Thank you! ]

Thorne | The Dining Hall

[ Arriving in a new world full of new magic, wonders, and sights to see was not the pressing matter for the Assassin Servant, Shuten-Douji. It's not even waking up without clothes and feeling light-headed and confused that concerns her (because the oni will unabashedly admit that type of occurrence is old hat). Being her own type of fantastical creature, she easily accepts the explanation given to her by the High Mage; it would have been more fun if Shuten had been able to put him and the other apprentices under her thrall, but no dice there; however, her less than subtle flirtations were enough to get some of the apprentices red in the face and bashful. It wasn't enough to get her any information that would help her in the long run and there's no sign of other Servants or her Master.

It's easy enough to come to the conclusion that until Chaldea or Fujimaru Ritsuka make themselves known, Shuten will just make her own fun! Whatever that entails... Thorne can only pray that the self-entertainment can tide her over even when her powers start to come back...

In the meantime, Shuten-Douji gravitates towards the dining hall because there was something that was not on her person when she arrived much to her disapproval. And there's only one way to solve this heinous slant against her.

Were you trying to refill your goblet with a drink? Were you reaching for a flagon of ale, or that bottle of wine to calm your nerves as you try to adjust to this new and wondrous world?

Too bad, it's been emptied by the small young lady with horns on her head. The people providing the rotating buffet are rather baffled to say the least as they try to replenish the alcoholic drinks. This girl can drink despite her stature. On her given tunic, the sign of The Devil is inscribed; not a drop of hard drink sullies her clothing as she finishes another tall glass of deep, dark, red wine. She sets it down with a refreshed sigh, though her cheeks are barely flushed. ]

Ah... Well, the flavor of that wine was a biiiiit better than the last. Though if this is a banquet of celebration, they really ought to take out the stronger stuff... Oh! How thoughtless of me.

[ And she's finally noticed that she's been hogging all the drink. Holding up a wine bottle, the oni smiles with devilish sweetness. ]

There's plenty to go all around. How 'bout I make it up to you and pour you a drink? I don't do this everyday y'know, so lucky you.

Cadens | Training Grounds

[ Shuten had to bide her time in regards to her power. The arrival had seemed to sap most of her strength and she couldn't draw upon what came naturally to her. Though it was a bitter, bitter shame, her main Noble Phantasm was not present. There's no use crying over spilled sake that wasn't there anymore. Shuten preferred to do as little work as possible, but when it came down to it, she's no stranger to self-reliance.

At the training grounds, she glances over at the non-lethal weapons that were provided, clicking her tongue in disapproval. None of these had elegance or class that would suit her taste. ]

Mmm. Hey. You there.

[ She randomly points to someone who looks like they can last a little longer than a minute in a fight. ]

Can you throw a punch? I'd like to try something out if you don't mind giving me a moment of your time.

Solvunn | Main Roads

[ Far more than the simple crafts and farm work that was absolutely not the oni's style, it was the main roads and the warnings about monsters that catches Shuten's interest the most. She was told by several a helpful citizen that the roads could always use some cleaning up.

As evening falls, Shuten makes up her mind. ]

Hm.

[ Shuten claps her hands together to catch the attention of anyone else who has been eying the dangerous paths. ]

I suppose if we bring back some monster parts, that would be a decent way to make money. After all, we may be strapped for cash until something's done about it!

WILDCARD

[ OOC: You can PM me on this account if you'd like a customized thread or an idea you'd like to pass by me first! ]

Anakin Skywalker || Star Wars || Judgement

[chosenfordarkness]

(( Hi, I'm here to ruin everything. ))

I;; Awkward Roommates
[ While he’d grown accustomed to having his own room at the Jedi Temple, he’s no stranger to sharing living space. Not exactly ideal, but given how they’re all strangers in a strange land? Numbers are better, and the privacy curtains offer at least the illusion of seclusion. Not that he’ll use them. He still feels cut off from the Force. Well, not cut off exactly.. Muted. Better to sleep lightly and be aware of everyone else in the room.

Not that he’s counting on being attacked in his sleep, but given how the past few days have gone, he can’t really expect otherwise. He still can’t believe how betrayed he’d been before becoming aware in that deep, sparkling blue pool. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Time will tell. He’s alone for some time, stretching his legs out on an unoccupied bed, listening to people pass by and getting used to the sounds and feeling of the castle when someone walks into the room. He cracks open a single gold eye. ]

Hey.

III; Castle Thorne
[ It’s still hard to believe what the excited mages had told him earlier about his presence in this place and how he’s meant to help them. Help save not just their reality, but all of them. He’s not interested in being someone else’s Chosen One. He’s also not particularly happy about being pulled from some mystic well by a wizard when he was in the middle of something. Just at the precipice of bringing actual change to the galaxy.

No use getting mad about it right now when there’s not much he can do about leaving. See it through to the end, then maybe. Anakin is nothing if not persistent.

He wanders through the castle to gather his bearings. The learning hall is of particular interest, watching the young mages practice their magic and the rows and rows of actual books. Physical books are such a rarity that it’s kind of a marvel. He has half a mind to peruse them later even if studying is one of his most-hated activities. There are others in the same style tunic he’s wearing, emblazoned with different tarot. Anakin has yet to see anyone else with Judgement and idly wonders whether that’s good or bad. After asking around about what it means, he got several different answers. Glancing at whoever’s nearby, he gestures to their tunic. ]

So, have they told you much about yours?

II;; Town
[ The town feels much more alive than the castle does, and it reminds him of a familiar marketplace. The smell and atmosphere are different, but the bustle is the same. Well, it would be if it weren’t for the owners of those shops and stalls shoving samples or wares at him at every turn. It’s a little unnerving, and he’s waved off a great many of them already. However, he can’t refuse when someone offers a pair of gloves toward him. He nods in thanks, sliding the leather over his mechno arm, flexing his fingers to make sure of the fit. It’s good, and it’ll do the job of keeping sand and grit out of the machinery. He’ll have to remember this place next time he’s in need of something sturdy.

Right now it’s fine, but he’ll have to hunt down tools later to help maintain it. What a pain in the ass. So far, this place hasn’t shown any inclination toward technology, but what little they did have was archaic at best. He makes a mental note to find something to tinker with later. ]

Well, the people in this place sure are hospitable. Can’t remember the last time that happened. You?

IV;; Wildcard
[ Feel free to throw a starter at me or hit me up at skorozima to brainstorm! ]

wanda maximoff · mcu · hanged man

[carmesi]

A. THORNE

I don't have any money.

[exploring the town surrounding the castle felt right, after a day getting familiarized with the north wing and realizing just how much more there was to see. wanda has kept mostly to herself, cautious of others and her distancing to them, overlooking at the mages around the castle and their magic with an ounce of envy—waiting for her own magic to course stronger through her.

in the meantime, it's the vendor trying to sell her some whistling water jars which makes her wish she had considered a different route through. she tries placating the vendor who confused her curiosity for a genuine business venture. instead, their eyes dart to the sign embroidered on her tunic: the hanged man.]

Why not try to fit in with the rest for once?

[wanda tilts her head, eyes narrowing, jaw tight.]

What is that supposed to mean?

B. CADENS

[wanda moves slowly, a little cautiously, past the others in the mess hall; she wraps a roll of bread inside a piece of cloth as she heads out, tying it onto a sash around her waist. after a few days of being here, she grows anxious and impatient, deciding that the best action is to—obviously—try her luck and make her way out, towards the city of cadens.

she walks towards the wagons, looking around for someone to give her a ride. should she even ask for permission?

abruptly, she staggers back as she bumps into someone, her eyes everywhere but in front of her. dust picks up under her shoes, and she shakes her head in an attempt to sound apologetic.]

—sorry. [and, then, seems to reconsider, lifting her gaze to the other.] Do you know who is in charge of the wagons?

C. SOLVUNN

[stepping out of the apartment, wanda finds herself wary of the kindness bestowed upon her. it is unusual, and having had arrived from a conjured reality of her own making—of solitude, of studying, of meditation—it is a bit jarring. she finds solace in it, though; soon as the rays of the sun mark the start of the day, the gentle bustle and going-ons of individuals manage to peel away that wariness and exchange it for subdued excitement.

it is a simple way of living, she notes, and she wants to say that, regardless of the circumstances by which she may have been brought here (all that can be dealt with later), she can find fortitude in the company of others.

wanda is eager to help in exchange of the hospitality she has been shown; she can be found sitting on a bench, a toddler playing with toys at her feet, a baby in her arms. the world revolves around her, a smile on her face, as she sings a soft lullaby for the baby to hear.]

[ooc: still debating on where wanda should go, so here are three options! also, she is post-wandavision. minor spoilers for it?]

byleth eisner | fire emblem: three houses | the devil | thorne

[hegemonwings]

🦅i. first impressions

[ the void of zahras was an overall worse experience than this had been, but at least she hadn't felt as if she was drowning in that place. byleth took the hand that reached for her on reflex, even if she jerked away sharply once she was brought out of the water, feeling the way her heart pounded incessantly and uncomfortably in her chest. it was all deeply disorienting, to put it mildly. the clothes were welcome, all things considered, as rhett went on, she only eyed the man with clear suspicion.

she was a military figure, and one at her most effective with the aid of those she had come to rely on. she certainly wasn't one known for lending her aid to kingdoms so reliant on magic or entrenched hierarchies—quite the opposite, in fact. the wings of the hegemon, the notorious high general of adrestia, had thrown her lot firmly against such things. still, she stayed silent as she followed the servants, expression remaining studiously neutral.

once the servants left her to her own devices in the north wing, byleth moved to inspect herself in a full-length mirror in the room. she saw the symbol again, and the words embroidered beneath—and scowled.

thorne was not winning the ashen demon's favor, by any measure. she began pacing the room, inspecting corners, checking the fixtures on the windows and the like. byleth wasn't sure what exactly she thought she might find, but everything about this place engendered suspicion, and she knew a devious enough mage might place eyes and ears where they were unwanted. really, though, feeling as if she was doing something was better than doing nothing. ]

🦅ii. exploring

[ mercifully, she managed to acquire a set of clothing more to her liking from a sympathetic tailor in town after only a day or two. she'd attempted to refuse, but merely had to settle for getting the tailor to accept a promise of later repayment or services rendered. it's simple and dark, with a raised military-style collar.

she could be found strolling through the halls of the castle and the wings which were not off-limits, a notebook in hand which she continually seemed to consult and add to as she eyed her surroundings. unfortunately, this may have led to a few collisions as she moved while distracted by her work.

finally, though, she found herself in one of the many walled gardens, eyeing the climbing crimson camellias which inched towards the light streaming through the glass ceiling. this wasn't a moment for mapping, and so the notebook was closed in her hand as she took in the view. red spider lilies bordered the path paved through the space, while carnations and forget-me-nots sprang up further around. she dropped into a squat, inspecting one of the blossoms as the severe look she'd had for most of these past few days softened. ]

... I'll have to ask who tends this area, [ she murmured it mostly to herself. ] I might learn something worthwhile from them.

🦅iii. wildcard

[ or just hmu let's go. ]

Jecht | Final Fantasy X | Chariot | Cadens

[fathersday]

Arrival

[ Plucked from an afterlife and thrown into an entirely different world? Now that's a new one.

Once Jecht's given the whole welcome-out-of-water, he takes his first hour of (relative) freedom to acclimate himself to, well, existing in something that's neither a dream nor a proper afterlife. He flexes his hands, turning them over as he looks along the backs of them. There they are: same scars, same callouses. Same little brown streak along his nailbed from an injury long ago. He shakes out one leg then the other, stretches one arm then the next, and then jumps up and down twice, three times, as if testing out all of his appendages. If he appears ridiculous doing all of this, he is completely unaware.

At the end of his stretching, he flexes, crossing his arms over his chest and declaring proudly for any to hear: ] Hell yeah. Still got it.

You! [ There's a point towards you, a lopsided grin. ] Wanna go for a run?

[ Of note, he's still only dressed in the blanket tied about his waist, the same one the woman had handed him earlier after being pulled from the pool. ]

Mess Hall

[ You've had a long day, or maybe you've had a very excellent day, but now it is evening, at around the prime time where most feel hunger and gather to eat. Inconveniently for you and the rest, the man in front is holding up the line. Why, yes, he is still shirtless. ]

Ah? You ain't got no shoopuff milk? [ His shout, in startled disbelief, can be heard throughout the hall. He appears properly offended rather than genuinely angered, and his head tilts downward with disgust. Seeing as he has an audience of at least one (that is, you), he lets his complaint out without pause or shame: ] What kinda world can summon people but not milk. Bullshit.

Training Grounds

[ The grounds are filled with weapons made for practice, and those that pick up to do so come in all ages and seemingly all backgrounds. Jecht, standing off to the side of the training grounds, brings a hand to the back of his neck, stretching it with a lazy roll. Action, training, fighting, sparring...

All fun. All good things. But. ] 'S like they're preparing for a war or something.

[ His tone suggests that he'd rather not. ]

Wildcard

[ Have an idea? PM this account or throw me something here! ]

Edelgard von Hresvelg | The Emperor | Fire Emblem Three Houses

[flame_emperor]

Arrival (Thorne)

Floating in darkness, naked and alone...Edelgard has had nightmares like this. Of being alone, defenseless, vulnerable. But the choking, drowning sensation, that's entirely new. And this is far more real and terrifying than even her darkest nightmares.

A pinprick of light and she struggles for it, lungs feeling like they might burst until suddenly a hand grabs her own, and relief surges in Edelgard's chest. Of course...who always comes when she reaches out her hand...

But what follows is not the gentle helping hand she expected. It's rougher, and she's pulled from the water gasping for air, more hands on her as she struggles, short-felt relief giving way to overriding panic. She's aware of multiple figures around her, pulling her up...she's still naked, and the scars that criss-cross her body, battle scars and older more precise cuts visible. In such a situation, even the Emperor's fearsome composure cracks.

"No...get away! Please! Don't touch me!"

A towel settles over her shoulders and she withdraws into it as much as she can. Someone is talking...talking at her, but Edelgard is more focused on collecting herself. She gets some of what the man, Ambrose, is saying. She'll find the rest out later, but now she needs to be away from this man, from all these people. Once clothes are provided, Edelgard is quick to take her leave. A symbol is stitched into the tunic, but she pays it little heed. This castle is unfamiliar and strange and people won't stop staring. She needs air. She needs sunlight.

She manages to make it to the gardens, almost collapsing into a bench with relief. She looks a state; her hair is undone, she's still moist from the pool, and...something is missing from her hand. Something important. More precious to her than practically anything she's ever known. A symbol of a promise made. That it sat on her finger only a short time and now seems lost to the darkness leaves a hollowness inside Edelgard that she doesn't know how to deal with.

Stop it. There will be time for that later. Catch your breath. Clear your head. Then get up.

The order to herself helps, and the sunlight at least helps calm her nerves. That's where she can be found, steadying herself.

Finding Quarters
Once Edelgard has managed to get some food into her, she's found out more about this place she finds herself in. Thorne, not a name she remembers from any map of the countries surrounding Fódlan, but apparently an entire new world. And an artifact, some monolith or monument of great power, hangs in the balance between Thorne and two other nations, vying for control.

It all sounds, at its heart, terribly familiar. And Edelgard suspects she's being used. For what she doesn't know just yet, but everything about this castle throws up warning bells in her mind.

The most important thing now is finding a place, temporary though it might be, to gather information and thoughts. They've been told four people to a room, but given what she's seen, there might be more rooms available than there are "Summoned" to claim them all. Which means, if she's careful, she might be able to claim an unoccupied room. Likely not to last, if these summonings continue, but hopefully by then Edelgard will have found something more secure, outside the castle.

She walks down the hall, eyes searching. If she sees someone else go into a room, she passes it by. If there's a room she's not sure about she might linger, trying to see if anyone comes out, having already claimed it. She's definitely being pickier than most new arrivals about where she'll be putting her head down for the time being.

Ferdinand von Aegir • FE3H • The Chariot

[nobleamong]

ONE: THORNE

( It isn't that magic makes Ferdinand uneasy, per se, but rather the fact that the very material that makes up the castle of Thorne seems to thrum with the stuff. While he's managed to get a few spells under his belt in his time he's by no means proficient in Faith or Reason — however he's already beginning to suspect that whatever magics they have here aren't necessarily comparable to that. It doesn't help that when he attempts to cast a basic fire spell it yields little more than a slight buzz around his fingers — almost like he's been Silenced, he idly muses, for all Ambrose claims that his abilities will return soon.

No matter. Ferdinand has always done his best work with a spear in his hand and an axe on his back; a far worse blow would have been to find himself unable to raise a weapon.

It's the dining room that seems to be giving him the most grief, at present. Ferdinand has entered into an increasingly tense stand-off with the dishes served in the dining hall each day, although not necessarily for the reasons one might first assume. )

Another of my favourites? Again?

( He looks suspiciously at the steaming platter of perfectly roasted pheasant, the crisp skin gleaming with a glossy, berry-red sauce. Ferdinand turns to the nearest person and makes a gesture of incredulity: )

Yesterday it was saghert and cream, then Daphnel stew the day before that. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they must have asked the Aegir manor kitchens my preferred dishes so as to prepare them in advance!

( Both fists move to rest on his hips as he frowns at the spread before him the same way he would a battle map in the war council room—

But then a scent reaches his nostrils that sends his eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline. Ferdinand's attention sharpens a moment later as he begins to search out the source of the aroma: )

Is that— surely not.

( Amber eyes scan the groaning table before settling on an unassuming tea-pot, which he promptly retrieves to remove the lid for a better look at the leaves. )

This is absurd! My favourite Almyran import—

( Why does this person not look like they're getting it?? This is important??? )

These leaves are notoriously difficult to procure even in Fódlan, let alone here. How are they managing this?

( Magic, Ferdinand. It's magic. )

TWO: CADENS

( If there's one topic in which Ferdinand could claim to be an expert, it would be military warfare. That isn't to say he wouldn't claim expertise in other areas — he'd be the first to detail his extensive knowledge of land taxation, grain distribution, border maintenance, council management — but as the acting Prime Minister of Adrestia he takes his greatest pride in the empire's might. The base of Cadens is nothing to be sniffed at: he might manage it differently, of course, and perhaps an expansion of the training grounds would be something he'd look into, but as far as he's concerned?

It's functional, it's familiar, and it offers the kind of strict routine that helps him feel as though he might have at least a little control of his fate.

As such, the training grounds is where he spends the majority of his time in the days following his arrival. Those who enquire about his visits are told he's hoping to keep his body conditioned and his form sharp, however the truth of the matter is he's eager to study any new fighting styles brought to Cadens from people ...

Not of Fódlan. This displacement certainly isn't ideal, but it doesn't mean there's nothing to be learned for when he returns to Adrestia.

(When, not if. The idea of Edelgard directing a war without his guidance simply doesn't bear thinking about.) )

You there!

( Ferdinand approaches the newcomer to the training grounds with a broad smile, his great mass of hair pulled back into a messy pony-tail to keep it from flying around in his face. It appears he's been trianing dilligently for some time: his boots are scuffed, his loose shirt is open, and there's sweat beading his brow, but no shortness of breath staggers his words as he greets the person with an amiable point of his (blunted) spear. )

Would you care to spar with me? I trust I do not flatter myself when I say I offer a formidable opponent.

( He does flatter himself, of course, but this is Ferdinand von Aegir we're talking about. )

THREE: SOLVUNN

( If ever there were an opportunity to prove to Dorothea that he isn't quite the man she thinks he is, this would be it. Solvunn is the antithesis of the life he's lived back in Adrestia: everything is so utterly twee — simple, rustic, a place of cozy community values — and Ferdinand is fascinated by the pace of life in the Primary Settlement. It doesn't come naturally for him to fit in to such a place but he's determined to give it his very best shot, and if he occasionally needs to call to mind the puzzle of why Dorothea thinks he's "like a bee" ...

Well. There are worse forms of motivation, aren't there?

Be as that may, it's possible that he should have thought through his options before accpeting employent at one of the local farms. His reasoning had seemed solid in the moment: physical labour to keep his body strong, working with his hands, supporting the community in one of the ways he values so highly (from a ministerial perspective), however the reality of the work is somewhat different to the life he'd pictured for the peasants of Fódlan.

He's ruminating on this as he enters the market, the reins to a pack-horse laden with grain looped around his fingers as he searches out a water trough. Spotting a relatively fresh one, he leads the the sturdy creature over for a good, long drink, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the apple that he brought along for lunch. )

Here we go ... what a fine girl you are, you enjoy that.

( Ferdinand hums, scratching the horse just behind the ear as he takes a bite of the apple. It's a peaceful moment — one that lets him enjoy the ache in his muscles from the morning's work — however it's surely about to be broken when someone notices the trail of grain spilling from a hole in the burlap that leads to a rapidly deflating satchel! )

OOC

Or hit me up via DM to this account so we can hash out something else 8) Just a heads-up that this is a voice-test as much as a TDM!

robin | fire emblem awakening | world | thorne

[grimaoire]

📖 o1. ARRIVAL.

[ Thrown into one harrowing situation only to be pulled through to another... If she didn't know any better, Robin would just assume this was her lot in life. It's why, when a mysterious hand appears, the tactician latches on, gripping their arm with all that she has. As soon as she's pulled from the watery depths, she takes a quick, gasped breath before she lets out a wracked cough. She truly thought she was going to die.

Instead, she finds herself in a place she doesn't recognize, a flurry of people giving her some space. She's thankful for that, truly, even if it is brief. A brief flash of surprise crosses her face as Ambrose introduces himself. Ah, she should have figured it out from the tome, but she's still a bit disoriented. Even as the other mages give her clothes, she puts them on without thinking, more focused on pushing off this daze and figuring out where she is. ]

Never get what right? [ Her words sound rough, and she clears her throat, still catching her breath. A pause, then; ] ...Some sort of summoning spell?

[ That seems to surprise them, as the three begin to exchange looks from a distance. They won't be there for long, as they all descend upon her, ready to usher her somewhere else. With a thin, half-winced smile, Robin holds out her hands. ]

Just... give me a moment. Please.

[ Care to help take some of the heat off her? ]

📖 o2. ARRIVAL.

[ Robin bounces back surprisingly quickly, all things considered. She nods along with the apprentice mage's explanation, trying to commit to memory as much as she can. There's something weirdly familiar about all of this--aside from being greeted by strangers in a place she doesn't recognize. It isn't exactly like the halidom in Ylisse, but it's little things that are similar enough that it helps her process everything. ]

ROOMMATES.
[ Robin spends a large amount of time here, examining everything. The beds, which are honestly a bit much for her, the layout... They might need to get creative about their space. But that's all right; sleeping on a bedroll in the wilderness, she's happy for a bed and roof over her head.

The mages leave her on her own, and as Robin closes the door behind her, she turns to lean against it as she sinks to the ground. She chuckles quietly, ruefully as she shakes her head. ]

What am I going to do now?

[ She blocks the door for a few moments (or until someone tries to open it) before standing up. She doesn't have time to waste, and pulling the door open, she steps out into the hall, not paying attention to whether someone was in front of the doorway. ]

📖 o3. EXPLORING.

[ By midday, Robin has pretty much shaken off the mood she was in when she first arrived. The need to know how they got here, why they're here drives her. She can make assumptions about the methods, but the way that Ambrose thumbed through his tome after she arrived, that her summoning was somehow a success has her curious, if not a little cautious.

Throughout the first few days, Robin can be found in various places around the castle, most commonly in the library. As she thumbs through book after book, searching for any sort of lead on what brought them here, the stack of books at her table is usually quite high, with bits of paper sticking out from the pages--places where she's bookmarked and scribbled vague notes.

Do you want one of the books she's looking for? You could try to take it, as she doesn't seem to be aware of the world around her. Or perhaps you have something that Robin has been searching for among the books near you. If so, she will politely walk over, tilting her head slightly as she reads each book spine in front of you. ]

Excuse me. I'm sorry to disturb you, but would you mind if I borrow this for a while? [ She gestures toward one of the books nearby. Share? ]

📖 oX. WILDCARD.

[ I'm down for just about anything, so if you have any ideas throw them down here or pm me at impearls! ]

Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role | Strength | Cadens arrival

[ofwovenstone]

[CADENS DESERT OUTPOST 003: ARRIVAL]

Cassandra breaks the surface of the water with a panicked gasp. Nonononono. There are hands on her and she struggles in their grasp, frantic. Or tries to; she’s weak, drained. And she’s not sure she could WALK, let alone fight.

She shouldn’t be here. SHE SHOULDN’T BE HERE.

She’s dead. Gods, she’s dead. And Vex had killed her. She’d been trapped in her own mind, SCREAMING at Vex, at her brother, that it was her, their sister, she was right there… only the words couldn’t come out. Wouldn’t. Come out.

And now she’s here… wherever here. Is. She’s set on a warm hard floor, surrounded by strangers, and it’s then that she realises that she’s not anywhere she knows. Not Entropis, not Whitestone… Not that she would recognize what comes after death, she supposes.

She’s somewhere strange surrounded by strangers and she’s naked, and she just… doesn’t care. She’s too… in shock, too reeling from the fact that she’s dead, by her sister in law’s hand. The blanket is appreciated, though, and she curls up under it, pulling it tight around herself. Listening as she’s told… that she’s somewhere called the Free Cities. Or one of their outposts, anyway. Cadens. That she’s important, that they need her help. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking CARE. She wants to know how. How she came to be here; did they revivify her? Cast some other spell to return her to life? She should be dead. Or is she some strange form of undead; she doesn’t think that’s it, she has a pulse, and feels the cold, and warmth.

Any other time she would be… fascinated. She would want to know anything and everything about this place that she’s found herself. But all she wants to do is… curl up and try to forget the sight of Vex. Shooting to kill. Shooting to kill her.


[CADENS DESERT OUTPOST 003: TRAINING GROUNDS]

All right. This…. This she can do. It gives her something to do with her time. With her hands. Keeps her busy. Keeps her from sleeping. Keeps her away from the room she shares. (She hopes that finding other living arrangements will be possible. She needs to find somewhere to sleep that won’t reveal more about herself than she wishes. Nightmares are hard to hide. Especially ones that end in screams.

She grabs a matched set of training short swords, and settles in, battering the ever loving shit out of a training dummy, fast and nimble. She’s there for… she doesn’t know how long, but when she finally tired of that, she moves to the obstacle courses. Pushing herself and putting every bit of her roguish training to use, graceful and lightning quick.


[CADENS DESERT OUTPOST 003: THE CITY PROPER]
The wagon ride to the city of Cadens is too long for Cassandra’s preference. Less for the actual length, and more because it leaves her alone with her thoughts for too long. She’s trying to not… get lost in her own head. No matter how difficult it is; she’s haunted by what happened. She’s haunted by her death. Does Percy even know? Does Vex? (Do they care? She knows they would, she thinks they would, but it’s hard to believe right now. It’s so very hard to believe right now.)

Once she’s in the city of Cadens proper, she sets about exploring. Mapping the place out in her head, and when she finally gets a hold of parchment and pencil mapping it out physically, too. (She’ll be making a better, more permanent map, too. Later.)

They ask her to be back at the outpost within a few hours of the sun setting, and she hears that, she truly does, and means to try to do so… but she also is just a little… numb. She doesn’t care. Nor is she paying much attention to the time.


[CADENS DESERT OUTPOST 003: WILDCARD]

[Choose your own adventure! Or hit me up and we can figure something out.]

subaru sumeragi | x/1999 | the hanged man | solvunn

[sacral]

one. settlement.

A: JOURNEY
[ he has not yet seen the end of his own world. that's the singular thought that pulses through his mind like the throb of his lungs when they cannot give into their unfortunate, necessary compulsion — breathe.

that is how subaru comes to understand that he is alive. watery sunlight, strong hands, a flip of his equilibrium that heralds his emergence onto fragrant grass, soaking and confused. that gentle hands and soothing voices await him almost seems to shake him more than if he were to be greeted with a fight. which is just as well; his magic is completely depleted, leaving his nerves raw and his head light. there is an attempt to regain his balance: he quickly scans the faces surrounding him, the environment, the image emblazoned on the card. he swallows whatever feelings knot in his throat and accepts the clothing, accepts that he may not know the answers to the questions he has right away. subaru is, if anything, a patient man. he has no reason to trust rowan but by the same measure, has no reason to distrust him either.

it's only in the carriage and alongside another who is in the same predicament. torn from their home — or is it released? he can't say. he does make a sight, ordinary in many ways save the milky-white blindness in his right eye. he'd been given a cloak that he holds to himself and what is visible of his hands also tells a story: pentagrams scarred into the tops of thin skin and delicate bone, what were surely intentional wounds at one point. ]

They called our arrival a blessing and a gift. Do you think that's so?

[ equal parts curiosity and idle musing. ]

B: HOMELY
[ night falls on a city that is not as foreign as subaru would maybe think. he is not unused to rural, to tradition. just because these are not his lands or his traditions doesn't mean he's out to spurn the acts of kindness given so far. on the ground floor of a series of squat communal rooms lies a tavern warmed by people and by fire. subaru... does not belong here, the last heir of an extinguished line of onmyouji, but he does find hospitality anyway. as promised. so much that the food and drink laid out on a table are far too much for one man who looks like he misses enough meals as is.

any passersby will get a nod to the spread and a level gaze from his one good eye, its hue a haunted green by the changing light. ]

Help yourself. It'll go to waste if it's just me.

two. work.

A. BABYSITTING
[ whether in his home or another, subaru is good at one thing: being chronically overworked. he is also good at yielding to the whims of fate and going with wherever the winds or the tides take him, untethered from the one wish that motivated him. there is nothing here for him, he knows, but he is, against all odds, still alive.

such melancholy thoughts are concealed for this particular job: attending to young children. and though his face is somewhat stern with focus, he has the very rapt attention of a group of children, a cluster of which are attached to his legs, eyes bright with awe. the rest are erupting into laughter and movement as they chase the source of their joy about: tiny, wheeling birds with ornate tails and butterflies on glimmering wings. they interact with the children as if they adore them, and on approach it's evident why. subaru is conjuring them from the palms of his hands, from tiny scraps of paper imbued with what little magic he has regained.

if you happen to join the group, it's likely that a little white bird no bigger than a finch will alight on your shoulder. or a butterfly on your nose, perhaps? ]

B. OFF DUTY
[ by nightfall, subaru has what he'd set out for. giving his time to serve others from dawn until dusk is no strange task to him. it is just refashioned here, from the heir to a powerful line of diviners and exorcists to a babysitter and farmhand. ...it's a strange feeling, to do the things he'd always loved in this context. whatever the circumstances, he's bartered for a pair of black gloves and a simple cloth eyepatch to place over his right eye, making his overall appearance less striking.

and a certain vice: tobacco, matches, paper. he no longer needs to smoke, but the motions and chemicals are already rooted in him so steadfastly. outside the tavern he lives above for now, he sits with his lit cigarette, the smoke twisting into the bright evening. footsteps cause him to flick his gaze aside. ]

Sorry. Does the smoke bother you?

three. craft.

[ it is a bright and windy morning full of life. the smell of flowers and bakeries, tilled dirt, dry grains. the air coming in off the lakes. it's before work hours, so subaru is seated outside. he's managed to come by some ink and paper, which he has spread out neatly before him. smooth stones hold the paper in place as he works, neatly scripting bold, black characters onto the small rectangular slips.

of course, one can only do so much against nature. one strong gust of wind rips a handful of his completed charms from their spot beneath the stones, scattering them about on the ground. subaru starts from his seat, looking a bit less morose than usual. ]

— ah...

[ those weren't exactly easy to come by... ]

four. main roads.

Excuse me.

[ do you look like you can beat up a monster? ...no? well, that's alright. he has a pretty good nose for power and doesn't judge a book by its cover. granted, he looks pretty ill-suited for it himself, being slight of stature and cloaked nearly head to toe. but he is calm and certain. ]

Have you heard of the creatures attacking the main roads? I'd like to go take a look.

[ and the caveat: ]

Though, my powers aren't fully restored yet.

[ did i mention he's a workaholic ]

( ooc: feel free to bring your own prompt or hit me up here or by pm for a personalized starter! )

Nailah | Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn | Strength | Cadens

[paraleyeze]

i. Mess Hall
Were you eating alone? Not anymore. A powerful-looking woman with tattoos all over her very visible skin and ears that belong on a canine takes the seat next to the stranger she hopes to make an acquaintance out of. Even better, an ally.

"Meals are much better when shared." She's smiling, her disposition friendly yet elevated with confident poise. With intent, she had chosen the spot where her closest eye to her dining partner was the one the world could see. "I'm Nailah, queen of a distant land called Hatari. And who are you?"

ii. Training Grounds
The wolf queen frowns, adjusting and readjusting her grip on different sections of a wooden spear that was thrust into her hands by one of the locals who had wanted to be helpful. True enough, she did intend to come here to fight, but...

"I don't know that I want to get accustomed to using beorc weapons," she sighs, peeling away at the wood with her thumbnail. "My claws and fangs could be more dangerous than the real thing even in this form."

iii. Bathtime (cw nudity?? implied female-presenting nipples???)
It's as if Nailah never even noticed the privacy curtains. There she is, elbows perched on the sides, her head tilted back in relaxation, the only part of her body clad with anything her right eye. If you were the type planning on slipping away and pretending you didn't stumble in on her bath, that's too bad - she's already noticed. But she doesn't seem to care. If you're here, you should expect it.

"Quite luxurious for some barracks in the middle of the desert, don't you think? Oh, but I'm not complaining. This hits the spot after a good training session."

iv. Choose Your Own Adventure
(( whatever you want!!! go check out the desert with her! go on a wagon ride! pull her tail! let's go! i'm also cool with threads that take place in thorne or solvunn. ))