lunae calamitas mods (
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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[For the first few days, Solomon flits from person to person in conversation, buried in a book in the library or taking a stack to his room on Floor 3. Always watching, but never quite doing much.
After a few days, anyone walking through the courtyard late in the evening will catch the spry young man humming to himself as he experimentally traces out something onto the stone around him with blackened ash from the kitchen stoves, operating by candlelight. He stops occasionally to adjust letters, to clean up lines, a cheerfully relaxed expression on his face as though he's a child with chalk. Though he was seen with a purple jacket on the second day, he still doesn't seem to be wearing it out and about.
He will wave to anyone that passes by before continuing with his work, seemingly unbothered.]
A Spoonful
[What better way to test making sugar out of magic than in the kitchen?
Relatedly: there's smoke coming from the kitchen. This seems fine. Is smoke supposed to be that color? Who knows.]
TASKS/WILDCARD
[Solomon can be found in the library, the kitchen, the bar, the markets, or on Floor 3. If you'd like to tackle a specific task, just hit me up on plotting or on discord! I will mostly be tagging out whenever possible.]
a spoonful
You're...meant to do the opposite, but details! ]
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The smoke is definitely coming from the kitchen, and there is definitely someone in there. He is humming away to the sound of something sizzling in a frying pan. It's hard to tell whether the smoke is coming from the stove itself or the pan filled with a blackened, boiling sugar on top of it, Solomon taking the back of his cape to fan some of the smoke away for a moment before continuing on as though nothing is wrong whatsoever.
He'll give Leo a wave as he adjusts his outfit back.]
Sorry, sorry. I'll be done soon enough.
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art project
What'cha workin' on? This somethin' from your world or this one?
[Are you going to summon a demon or something...??]
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[He pointedly doesn't answer the second question.]
Are you familiar with this, or just curious?
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1/2
2/2
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It's pretty.
[ Structures on the moon have incantations written/carved on them like the rings in Solomon's circles to put spells on them, hence not being too intimidated. Except they glow instead of being kitchen soot black. ]
What does it do?
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[There's definitely no glowing happening right this moment. Maybe it isn't done.]
That's the question of the hour, isn't it? Maybe it won't do anything at all.
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1/2 (part 2 will be moved from captcha)
/2
a spoonful of WHOOP ASS
Well. More than a bit. That's actually really fucking ominous. ]
What the hell—?!
[ Hand to his mouth as he waves off the smoke with another, here is a very disgruntled teen barging in, eyes darting around the room. What the fuck is going on in here? ]
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Solomon looks up from his war crime in surprise, before giving a wave.]
Good morning! Was the smell that enticing?
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a spoonful
So what's burning?]
What are you cooking so intently? [Not "what did you set on fire?"
Look, it's a kitchen, of course something is going to be on fire.]
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[He coughs into his elbow as he waves off some of the smoke with his cape. Some of it's coming from the wood in the stove burning very, very hot, while the more colorful smoke rises from the pan itself, a blackened and bubbling gelatinous mess that could be mistaken for part of the pan itself at this point.]
I've never cooked with magical sugar before, so I wanted to try a few tests with how it reacts to heat. Fascinating, right?
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Art Project
That...huh]
You trying to summon something late at night?
[Kiryu doesn't know much about magic but he's getting a crash course these days, coupled with that little he knows of pop culture magic. Magic circles are for summoning, right? You make them, then a demon burst into existence and causes havoc.
...should he stop this...? Well, probably should at least ask before doing a thing, really]
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[He doesn't look up as he keeps on drawing.]
Well, I wouldn't complain if that's how it turned out. We do seem to have a lot of eager little spirits out there.
Do you think they'd like my little masterpiece?
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A spoonful
So Syrlya peers around the doorway.] Is everything all right in here?
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[It's a cheerful enough call despite the large amount of smoke, Solomon coughing a bit as he messes with the wood in the stove. Or, well, what's left of the wood. That sure is a lot of fire.]
Sorry if I'm making too much noise in here! But you know what, you're just in time for some taste testing.
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library/potential task!!
He's been checking in on the others as they've gotten their bearings, so naturally he'll approach Solomon at some point! He'll wait to make sure Solomon's not super concentrated on what he's doing so he's not intruding so much, raising a hand in greeting as he approaches.]
How fare thee in thy studies?
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Leaned back in a chair in rather unbroken silence, Solomon takes a moment to acknowledge, blinking up from the book he's buried in. Taking in the stature, the mark on his face, the ears... definitely not human. Fae, perhaps? He's never seen fae with this sort of height, though... No visible wings, and an outdated dialect...
His eyes sparkle with curiosity even as his voice stays light.]
Mm? Ah, I can't complain just yet. It's not exactly academic by any means... but I will say I'm surprised at just how many languages are present. It paints an interesting picture of this situation we've found ourselves in.
[He chuckles as he closes the text, settling it against his lap.]
You always seem to be in here when I'm poking around for more material. Do I need to be worried about stumbling across you asleep between the bookcases one of these days?
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artistic projection
[
Well, okay, so there's suddenly and stealthily a guy behind him clad in a whole dark cape-and-mask ensemble. His voice is not quite Nakata Jouji levels of Way Too Deep but the novel loves to describe Shadow's voice as ~*abyssal-deep*~ so you're getting some echoes of that while he's wrestling with magical vocal chords or something.
But mostly, Shadow (wizard version) is currently running analog. When you're suddenly not-reincarnated into a new magic system you kind of have to go with what works.
He's got his arms crossed and seems to be surveying the chalk circles with a thoughtful expression from what is visible of his face.]
But it may be that they're just gossiping about this. Are you using something from your home?
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[He blinks up towards the dark cape of a figure looming over his work, his smile calm.]
And here I thought only our little sparrow could hear them right now. I wonder if you should consider yourself lucky.
[As for the circle, he continues his long phrase of letters around the ring, only pausing briefly to check for smudging.]
It's a bit of a hobby of mine. I thought I'd run a test or two while we're in our fledgling state.
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A Spoonful;
Jing Yuan is going to check out what's going on here. ]
Hm? Is someone in there?
[ Is there a fire?! ]
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Hello! I take it you heard me working hard in here? Sorry if I interrupted anything.
[He seems perfectly oblivious to anything wrong with this scenario.]
Are you hungry? I was just testing something out with one of our little tasks.
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wildcard (summoning circles)
He isn't exactly surprised he sees someone else out here, considering the activity indoors, but he is surprised when he sees the little lights turn out to be candlelights, and the person tending to them working at a... is that a magic circle?
Mika pauses at a halfway point of passing by, studying the scene for a moment. )
... What exactly are you doing?
( Is he human? This seems like something a human would do. (Uncalled for prejudiced statement,) )
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Solomon pauses in the middle of careful, deliberate motions, a momentary open look of surprise before his smile settles, easy and calm, hard to read intention.]
Just a little bit of a test.
Here I thought the witching hours would be a good time to work. It seems we have quite a few night owls among us, though, don't we?
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Art project
A transfer circle? Or something similar to that, I assume?
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Mm?
I can't say I've heard it called that before. Does it look familiar?
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