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lunaecalamitas2024-04-04 11:33 pm
promittere) wrote in lunaecalamitas2024-04-04 11:33 pm
if you say it's magic, then you're my wizard
WANING GIBBOUS OVERTURE
The seconds tick by, the elevator rattles. There's a soft, musical chime announcing your arrival before the elevator doors creak open, leaving you and a number of others in the courtyard of a stone manor. The manor is large, looming over the trees surrounding it, and the gardens are well maintained, rows of hedges and beds of blooming flowers as far as you can see. The doors linger open until you clear the threshold, as if waiting patiently for you. Dawdle too long and you’ll feel a gentle push, nudging you out into the yard. The doors shut with more rattles and a cheerful ding!, and if you turn to look at it there's nothing to be seen behind you but the milling strangers.
Then there's a sting, mild at first. But soon, the spot where your sage's crest is starts to burn. It's as though you have been branded, and the searing heat clings to your skin. Should you look at your crest, you'll find it glows a faint red, like the dying embers of a fire, but given enough time it will cool to black and no longer hurt.
Once the pain fades, you notice is that the air around you feels distinctly different. It's hard to say exactly what makes it different, or how. It feels brittle, but malleable. That perhaps if you said or did the right thing, you could command reality to your liking—
The wind blows, stirring leaves and flowers, and that's when you notice there are two people in the courtyard that did not emerge from the elevator like everyone else. The taller of the two looks briefly shocked, before a warm smile blots it out, while the shorter of the two looks remarkably unimpressed—for as much as you can make out his expression under the large hat he wears. He glances at the taller man, the charms that hang from his hat clinking, and crosses his arm over his chest.
The taller man nods, turns to the group, and says, "Sorry. I know you were probably in the middle of something important. But...I need you. My name is Tatara Totsuka. I'm your sage, and you are my witches and wizards."
He looks up to the moon hanging in the sky, still pale and visible despite the light of day, and lays it all out for you: a wizard under the sage's guidance is supposed to fight off the Great Calamity—the moon—when it nears. But you are not meant to carry out this task. The original sage and twenty-one wizards suddenly vanished not long ago. No one knows what happened to them, or where they are. They aren't dead. They are gone.
That you are here, that there are so many of you, that you came from different worlds, means that this is a mistake. Something, somewhere, isn't right. Yet the world has decided to claim you in a frantic attempt to keep itself together.
This world is breaking. If you don't fix this, then you'll be stuck here fighting the Calamity yourselves.
When Tatara looks back down to the rest of you, there's a smile on his face, tinged with apology. "But I think it'll be okay. We'll figure this out... Right?"
The golden light of sunset is oddly cold. It settles over you not in a welcoming embrace, but in a possessive hold. There is a sinking feeling in your gut: whatever your home was before matters no longer. Welcome to a world on the brink of destruction—let's hope it's not for good.
The day begins to draw to a close. You're given the rest of the day to process Tatara's words and to familiarize yourselves with the manor. There are plenty of empty spaces in the manor with sparse furniture where you can rest and try to unwind, and hopefully get some sleep. Everything about today might be a lot to unpack, but surely you can at least relax and prepare for the next day.
The morning starts with the sound of bells. A cacophonous racket of them, ringing in your rooms, in your head, jolting you from whatever slumber you can grasp. The source seems to be a note, unassuming if not for the way it shakes with each toll of the bells, and the noise only stops when you read it.
"Go to the courtyard," it says, and if you try to ignore it the noise returns, growing louder and louder until your vision swims and you find yourself standing in the courtyard with everyone else—and the shorter of the two men from yesterday.
"Practice starts right now," he says, looking bored and just as unimpressed as he did yesterday. The sun has barely started over the horizon—it's early, almost absurdly so. "You need to learn magic sooner instead of later, unless you want to die like miserable worms. If you do, just quit now so we can replace you with someone useful."
His explanation on magic is brief—he explains that magic is a deal struck between caster and the spirits of the world, using a meaningful word or phrase to communicate your will to the as-of-yet unseen spirits of the world, who will respond to your desires and power your magic. A focus, an object of significant meaning, will help strengthen your ties to the land and direct the magic for your spells. If you have nothing that would work as a focus right now, he says, chances are the perfect thing will find you anyways.
While he looks unhappy to do so, he emphasizes that magic—as it works here—is all tied to your emotions and your convictions, and then he assigns you a challenge for the week. He wants you to come up with your incantation—the words you'll use to cast all of your magic—as well as find or draw forward your focus, with the final task being summoning a magic broom you'll use for transportation.
Then there's a sting, mild at first. But soon, the spot where your sage's crest is starts to burn. It's as though you have been branded, and the searing heat clings to your skin. Should you look at your crest, you'll find it glows a faint red, like the dying embers of a fire, but given enough time it will cool to black and no longer hurt.
Once the pain fades, you notice is that the air around you feels distinctly different. It's hard to say exactly what makes it different, or how. It feels brittle, but malleable. That perhaps if you said or did the right thing, you could command reality to your liking—
The wind blows, stirring leaves and flowers, and that's when you notice there are two people in the courtyard that did not emerge from the elevator like everyone else. The taller of the two looks briefly shocked, before a warm smile blots it out, while the shorter of the two looks remarkably unimpressed—for as much as you can make out his expression under the large hat he wears. He glances at the taller man, the charms that hang from his hat clinking, and crosses his arm over his chest.
The taller man nods, turns to the group, and says, "Sorry. I know you were probably in the middle of something important. But...I need you. My name is Tatara Totsuka. I'm your sage, and you are my witches and wizards."
He looks up to the moon hanging in the sky, still pale and visible despite the light of day, and lays it all out for you: a wizard under the sage's guidance is supposed to fight off the Great Calamity—the moon—when it nears. But you are not meant to carry out this task. The original sage and twenty-one wizards suddenly vanished not long ago. No one knows what happened to them, or where they are. They aren't dead. They are gone.
That you are here, that there are so many of you, that you came from different worlds, means that this is a mistake. Something, somewhere, isn't right. Yet the world has decided to claim you in a frantic attempt to keep itself together.
This world is breaking. If you don't fix this, then you'll be stuck here fighting the Calamity yourselves.
When Tatara looks back down to the rest of you, there's a smile on his face, tinged with apology. "But I think it'll be okay. We'll figure this out... Right?"
The golden light of sunset is oddly cold. It settles over you not in a welcoming embrace, but in a possessive hold. There is a sinking feeling in your gut: whatever your home was before matters no longer. Welcome to a world on the brink of destruction—let's hope it's not for good.
The day begins to draw to a close. You're given the rest of the day to process Tatara's words and to familiarize yourselves with the manor. There are plenty of empty spaces in the manor with sparse furniture where you can rest and try to unwind, and hopefully get some sleep. Everything about today might be a lot to unpack, but surely you can at least relax and prepare for the next day.
The morning starts with the sound of bells. A cacophonous racket of them, ringing in your rooms, in your head, jolting you from whatever slumber you can grasp. The source seems to be a note, unassuming if not for the way it shakes with each toll of the bells, and the noise only stops when you read it.
"Go to the courtyard," it says, and if you try to ignore it the noise returns, growing louder and louder until your vision swims and you find yourself standing in the courtyard with everyone else—and the shorter of the two men from yesterday."Practice starts right now," he says, looking bored and just as unimpressed as he did yesterday. The sun has barely started over the horizon—it's early, almost absurdly so. "You need to learn magic sooner instead of later, unless you want to die like miserable worms. If you do, just quit now so we can replace you with someone useful."
His explanation on magic is brief—he explains that magic is a deal struck between caster and the spirits of the world, using a meaningful word or phrase to communicate your will to the as-of-yet unseen spirits of the world, who will respond to your desires and power your magic. A focus, an object of significant meaning, will help strengthen your ties to the land and direct the magic for your spells. If you have nothing that would work as a focus right now, he says, chances are the perfect thing will find you anyways.
While he looks unhappy to do so, he emphasizes that magic—as it works here—is all tied to your emotions and your convictions, and then he assigns you a challenge for the week. He wants you to come up with your incantation—the words you'll use to cast all of your magic—as well as find or draw forward your focus, with the final task being summoning a magic broom you'll use for transportation.
Threading out magic practice and ICly discovering your characters' magic words, manifesting their foci, and summoning their broom will count as three different jobs, and will be eligible for a set of rewards each. While not technically classified as a job this time around, this is a special circumstance. When you've accomplished any of these things, please submit them to the rewards page as a job submission.
If you're having trouble coming up with a focus or incantation, think about your answers for the first and third mandatory questions on your app! Your focus of choice does not have to be in your character's inventory—if what works best for them as a focus did not come with them, then they can focus and reach across universes to bring it here with them.
If you're having trouble coming up with a focus or incantation, think about your answers for the first and third mandatory questions on your app! Your focus of choice does not have to be in your character's inventory—if what works best for them as a focus did not come with them, then they can focus and reach across universes to bring it here with them.
JOB BOARD
You may have just gotten here, but people across the continent still need the sage's wizards to do things for them. The job board will typically have 2 - 3 requests each event that can be turned in for rewards when completed.
Sugar delivery. Confectionery shops and pharmacies put in regular orders for wizard sugar to the manor, and despite the unusual circumstances, now is no different. Wizard sugar—sugar spontaneously created through a wizard's magic—is said to have restorative properties and said to bless those that consume it, so it's no wonder it's in high demand. It also happens to be one of the first things young wizards learn to do. So once you've perfected your sugar, go deliver it to the shops in Central capital and to the Southern merchants waiting for shipment near the Central tower.
The Southern merchants, in particular, seem rather anxious to receive as much sugar as possible, as soon as possible.
The Southern merchants, in particular, seem rather anxious to receive as much sugar as possible, as soon as possible.
WANDERER TASKS
The wizards' new mentor knows that this must be an incredibly overwhelming experience, so he has a list of things that should help break down the process of learning and understanding magic. Or that's what he says, at least, but it feels like he's trying to make things more difficult...
Nobody is going to hold your hands for you, and the best way to learn is to understand the root cause of an issue. Use that paper being left around for something actually useful and do some research on the spirits of the countries you've been tasked to represent. I'll be expecting some actual thought out papers within the week.
For the idiots who can't research to save their lives, prove you can actually manage the bare minimum. There's a spot you can't reach without magic within the manor grounds—bring me one of the trinkets you find there.
For the even bigger idiots who are overconfident, come find me and we can spar. I won't go easy on you.
TATARA ACTIVITIES
Tatara knows things are tense and uncomfortable for his new wizards, so he'll offer up a few activities each event post to help them relax if things get too tough.
We're all new here, but we'll be friends before long, I know it! There's a table in the dining room with paper, pens, markers, glitter, and pins so we can all make name tags and get to know each other better. We'll go from strangers to neighbors to besties before you know it!
Oh, you should probably get a feel of the manor, too. This IS your new home, after all! And what better way than...hide and seek?! Sounds fun, right? I'd tell you MY favorite spot to hide, but then that wouldn't be fair!
I don't know how long we're going to be here, so it probably wouldn't hurt to settle in. Grab a friend or two and head to the market in the Central capital to stock up on whatever food you like and stuff for your room. May as well get comfortable!
OOC NOTES
🌙 Welcome to Lunae Calamitas's first event post! Yer a wizard, whether you like it or not.
🌙 While not technically jobs, ICly working out your character's focus, incantation, and broom are all separately eligible for rewards. Good luck on your basics, little wizards! You'll need them...
🌙 Your OOC plotting post is here! Please keep all your plotting on the plotting post, since not everyone uses discord or plurk.
🌙 The South will be going on their mission next week to get this party started. Keep an eye out, Southies!
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[ another tsking sound. since no one seems to be actively, rapidly dying by the second his air overall is of one who finds them more somewhat inconvenienced by all this than actually concerned, but regardless he will go ahead and attend to the injured, since he's already here.
his gaze rakes over the assembled once more, lingering briefly on ginger. an idle thought- this surely better not give that one the wrong idea- before he's seen all he needs to. he'll note that the first of their number is already moving to attend to yamato, which means the next in their priorities is their sage. ]
This will likely not be pleasant, but it's better than dead, I suppose.
[ hello tatara did you want healing that feels less like the comfort of a warm fire, the gentle embrace of a light soothing all your aches and pains away, and more like the icy shock of creeping death being forcefully pulled away from your being? because that's what you're getting from the breath of ruin, who can heal but deals more often in necromancy than the softness of naga's clerics.
it's slow going- by his own standards especially, but if nothing else, he is as meticulous in this as everything else. he'll work on tatara until his pallor isn't so ghastly, and some semblance of warmth has returned to him.
omnia mors aequat, his recurring mantra whenever what magic he can bolster starts seeming to flag. all things will fall to ruin in time; no need for any to rush to it quite at this moment. ]
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... Are there likely to repeat incidences of this?
[ he can put two and two together, given the way mika had looked (and still does look) when he'd flagged robin down. ]
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( That could be a wry joke, but he seems serious when he says it. )
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[ presumably they've all been summoned because the problem they've been handed will require the lot of them. if only it were as simple as letting the strongest among them take care of it, and letting the rest do as they will, whether it be locking themselves up out of shame or otherwise. ]
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He exhales needlessly, frustrated. )
I don't know. If I'm feeding regularly, then it shouldn't. But, in case you forgot, the living need their blood inside their bodies.
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Is your concern about feeding off of those who you don't think deserve the injury, or about needing to feed at all?
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... The latter. It's disgusting.
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You are hardly the only monster here.
[ because by now he's probably heard mika's explanations of what happened to some of the others who've been recruited into this mass healing session. ]
Pity, though. The first would have been simpler to solve, but surely there must be ways to make it more ... palatable. Unless it has to be fresh?
[ direct from the source, so to speak. ]
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( The bite does things to the receiver... and to the Mikas. And if he's biting, there will always be a powerful instinct inside him to drain the victim dry.
Muttering, in partial protest to the first remark: )
I don't enjoy being a monster.
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[ monsters are made, whether by circumstance or others' actions, and if chosen it is by those who have little other recourse. ]
But denying yourself to the point where you lose yourself to it is hardly an improvement. If you're in control of yourself now, then you can act to manage it properly.
To that end, how much do you need regularly?
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He's quiet, briefly. )
... I can get by on a tiny bit every three days.
( The same way a human can get by on a tiny snack once a day... they'd probably not feel great and they'd probably still be hungry, but it'll keep them up. )
A larger amount every day is what... other vampires always recommended. I don't know exactly how much, since I've never fed regularly, but... it shouldn't be a lot.
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[ judging by how many have responded to Mika's search for help, and the dispositions of some of those already present... ]
There will likely be enough to bleed such that you won't lose your mind every few nights. The question then becomes... will you accept such an arrangement?
[ or will the desire for punishment and apparent tendency toward self-flagellation instead impulse mika to continue to argue for his being shut away in a dark corner somewhere? ]
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But it's not like he gets to choose, is it? And it isn't like he's ungrateful, either. Despite the lingering shock of being pulled from death's doorstep, he feels a lot more comfortable. When Robin's healing settles, Tatara takes a deep breath, and his cheeks warm once again. The pain is gone, though he still feels a bit woozy from blood loss.
His eyes flutter open, he stares at his little brother old god, and tries to push himself up off the couch. ]
...Where's Mika?
[ His voice is weak, but it's there. ]
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Still present. Around. He's either fetching even more people to deal with all this, or lingering at the edges of the room likely as some form of self-punishment.
[ punishing himself with the sight of what he's done, or sticking by with the proof of his crimes on full display in hopes that others will do it for him. either or. ]
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Could you get him for me?
[ "Around" is all he really registered. He looks up at Robin, but instead of his usual smile, he grimaces slightly in pain. ]
I wanna ask him...
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[ maybe tatara can convince mika further towards not doing stupid and pointless self-flagellating things, and maybe mika can convince tatara to not be an idiot with his health. a fool's hope, right. ]
Stay here. If you overexert yourself I am not healing you again.
[ he'll get up and sweep away to gather up their wayward vampire. pspsps mikaela. calling local catboy in spirit, idiot 1 is looking for idiot 2 and he has no patience to be herding them. ]
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He glances at Robin as he approaches. He probably saw Robin get Tatara up, and he definitely heard Tatara ask for him even from this distance, and he's definitely avoiding the call. )
... If he just wants to tell me it's fine, I don't want to hear it.
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[ He's smiling, but his tone indicates that Mikaela does not have the option of refusing him. Or rather, he's welcome to try, but. Robin will haul him off by the hood if he has to. ]
Come. If you want consequences for your actions so badly, at least face the ones who you've attacked instead of lurking in shame. [ Regardless of whether or not those consequences will match what it is Mikaela might actually want, considering who they're talking about here. ] Perhaps all he might end up speaking is forgiveness, but what he said was that he wants to ask something.
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... Fine.
( Said in the classic, begrudging teenager tone.
Should Robin turn his heel, Mika will follow. His head isn't raised high, and he's not meeting Tatara's eyes. Ugh. )
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He looks at Mika calmly, neutrally. His eyebrows knit lightly as he tries to read his expression.
When he reaches no conclusion: ]
Are you okay?
[ yes he got robin to drag him all the way here for that, ]
this is an actual tag yes but just imagine him making this expression as mika and tats talk
bless
But, when Tatara speaks... He can't explain why, but something in him wavers. With frustration; with guilt. )
... Don't ask me that.
( I don't deserve it, is what he seems to mean. )
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The commotion around him tells him that he's not the only one injured here. His eyes dart around the room, briefly taking in others who're injured, before they settle on Mika again. ]
I could've helped you if you told me.
[ His eyes remain there, resting on him. He's not doing anything in particular, and his expression hasn't changed, but it's almost as though he's reaching out to keep Mika there, in place, from running away. ]
We could've avoided this.
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... You already promised your blood to Malice. ( He says this with some frustration. ) Do you really think... you could get by giving blood to both of us? You'd die. One of us could kill you on accident, even if we don't take much.
( He's not going to say this was his primary excuse for not talking to Tatara - the primary excuse is shame. But he also got the sense that someone who so casually offered his blood to another vampire as his sole food source might willingly offer it to another without thinking twice if it could be fatal to him, and give Tatara willingly offered his neck to Mika while he was in that frenzy, of all times - he doesn't think his assumption is incorrect. )
What would happen then? If you died just from trying to be "nice"? If you really care about everyone here... you need to think about yourself more.
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