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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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[Because he? Might?? But he hasn't gotten that far yet! Don't read him like an open book!! Ugh, and that giggle was cute too. Baka old man...]
Solomon, huh? Like the guy in the bible... unless you are the guy from the bible, in which case, I'd probably believe you.
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[lol
Anyway, his brows quirk up a bit at a specific word spoken.]
...You mean King Solomon? Fascinating...
Ah, sorry. It's spelled the same, though an ancient story is really all it is. [More importantly, though:] I wonder how similar our worlds are if that sort of scripture is shared across them.
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From what I've heard, most of our worlds share some commonalities, but they're also all a little different. You got any other bible-named people running around in your world, Not-King-Solomon?
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[would you tease a man named Jacob or Luke or Methuselah? wow akira you're so mean]
Is that not the case where you're from?
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[Nimurodo-san...]
I half expected you to be like "yeah, those bible guys are real. I drink beer with them on Sundays while we watch college football."
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Hahah -- You don't think there would be more interesting things to talk about than beer and sports? Ah well. I'm sorry to say that I've never really met anyone claiming to be a person from scripture. Not honestly, anyway.
You have a colorful imagination, Akira. Hopefully that doesn't get you into too much trouble.
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Not for the average man, but clearly, you're far from average.
[Akira smirks, one hand settling on his hip.]
If my imagination gets me into trouble, it's creative enough to get me right back out of it. Tell me, Solomon-san, [teasing, teasing] what's a guy like you do when he's looking for a good time?
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[The ego always can use a good bit of fluff.
Ahhh, good ol' honorifics. At least that places this poor teen geographically. When was the last time he went to Japan recently...? Eh, no need to dwell on it.]
Please, please - just Solomon is fine. Unless you'd prefer to call me Sensei?
[His head tilts to the side a bit, chuckling before waving off the statement as though he was kidding.]
It depends who you ask. For some reason I have the reputation of being some sort of troublemaker. But I really am quite boring. Cooking, studying... I have some that I can call on if I need help or company, of course, but I would rather make my own fun.
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[Fine, fiiine, no honorifics... but the buttering up? That will never cease.]
Sensei's something you'll have to earn. I have to say, we sound awfully similar... but I'm way more of a people person. The loner lifestyle doesn't suit me. With a personality like yours, I'm guessing you keep your circle small on purpose.
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I could see you being a type to blossom around others, though. Or... perhaps "stealing hearts" is a fitting term. [A smooth talker, a pleasant personality. Ah how the youth might swoon.] It's a good trait to have.
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[Akira's tone is teasing, only teasing~ But really, you're giving him too much to chew on here, Solomon. Are you sure you want to feed his curiosity like this?]
Maybe you've had your heart stolen a time or two? That's a good excuse to put your barriers up.
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[And curiosity makes for a fantastic sorcerer, so he's gonna enable the shit out of this kid.]
As romantic as that excuse sounds, I can't say I've ever been all that lucky in love. Missed opportunities, you know? But don't you worry. My heart is still accounted for.
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[Just not his own. Akira will maintain the veil of secrecy and intrigue for as long as he can, but that doesn't mean he can't be a hypocrite and try to study this man while he has his curiosity piqued.]
Who knows? Maybe that's the real reason you were brought here: to finally have a shot at love. [...Pfft.] Just kidding. You miss every shot you don't take, old man, but maybe you're happier alone. There's nothing wrong with that.
1/2
The statement does get him to pause with a break in eye contact, humming his acknowledgement, but broken from the jovial nature of the talk for the briefest moment.
Happier, hm?]
2/2
You don't need to call me an old man, though. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't. Jokes aside, you'll start to truly hurt my feelings at this rate. I might have to start exploring a curse or two.
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[But does Akira sound too terribly concerned? Not really. He's admittedly curious what Solomon's curses might entail, but he isn't crazy enough to, say, invite curses upon himself. Maybe he can watch Solomon sling curses from afar instead?]
Then tell me what to call you instead. Sensei's off the table for now.
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[Anyway!]
Have you found an idea for your focus, by the way? All this energy spent on your incantation, but I don't see anything to channel it.
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[Solomon wouldn't be the first adult he's treated as an equal. He does have to wonder why a man as seemingly impressive as Solomon doesn't care for titles, but he'll jot that down on the long mental list of Solomon's Mysteries to Unravel.]
Look closer.
[Rather, behold the contents of his winter coat. Akira pulls out his dagger and spins the handle on the tip of his finger. If it wasn't immediately obvious, Akira was the type of child to run with a pair of scissors in each hand.]
It's no magic wand, but it's way more badass than one. What do you think?
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Ah, a knife! Definitely practical. [If you can't magic, then stab. Sounds simple enough.] Given your confidence, I can't help but wonder how sentimental it is to you.
[do you just like stabbing people, akira. is that it. does he need to judge you.]
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It's been with me through thick and thin. This dagger's gotten me through some tough spots, so yeah. You could say I'm fond.
[But yeah? He's also considering how this must sound to Solomon, so like. Allow him to quickly clarify:]
But I've never stabbed anyone with it. I steal hearts, not cut them out of people's chests.
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Well, your own feelings are all that matters in this case, right? If our dear little sparrow is telling the truth, anyway, so long as you're certain in your feelings, the spirits should respond to you.
[He won't pretend it's easy for everybody, but at least the concept seems simple so far.]
I'm still curious, though. What does stealing hearts mean to you, Akira?
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[That's the thing about Mementos: Akira has never caused any real, physical harm to anybody. If it comes to blows and he has to use his weapons for their intended purposes against flesh and blood enemies, he's not sure how he'll handle that.
One step at a time. For now, it's not an issue he needs to deliberate on, and he tucks his dagger away with that in mind.]
It means stealing away people's corrupt and wicked desires. Cutting out the things that make good people bad. People don't know how far they've fallen until they've been freed from their own mistakes.
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[Hm. That sure is a creed Akira stands by. Solomon considers him in silence for a while, the crest against his ring finger prominent as he taps at his own lips in thought.]
I wonder. What's the difference between freeing someone of their mistakes, and letting them free themselves? Is a human still a human, if only the good remains?
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Some people's idea of freedom is putting down other people and hurting them for their own gain. Some people will never see the light unless it's shown to them. There are bad habits, and then there's pure evil.
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[A just reason, but still a concerning way to put it. Not that it's inherently bad at its core - it's more how it tangles so delicately into some more difficult ideas.]
If humanity can't conquer evil through our own merit, though, then what does that mean for us? Will we be toyed with, or always destined for the darkness in our hearts?
If someone rescues them, will people be able to learn what to do when their rescuer eventually vanishes?
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