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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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[There's not really a reason to obscure the fact that he has powers here... or rather, had them. Still, how does Akira know there isn't a reason to stay mum that he just isn't yet aware of yet?
Much to consider. In the meantime, Akira hitches his broom to the cart and prepares for takeoff. Kurapika can sit in the cart or ride bitch on the broom if he wants to huddle for warmth~]
But we've got a different sort of magic now— if we can figure out how it works. Who knows? Maybe we'll end up more powerful than ever.
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Anyway, guess who's riding bitch on the broom? It's Kurapika, because he's getting right behind Akira and putting his hands on his shoulders. ]
It's possible. I wouldn't be opposed to that, honestly.
[ Though he wonders if he'll be able to place conditions on these powers too, to magnify their effects. Much to think about! ]
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Hang on tight, babe.
[NYOOM NYOOM GOES THE BROOM]
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I am not your babe.
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[It sure sounded like one! Here, a translation of what Kurapika really meant: call me babe one more time and I'll whip out my bling and beat you with it. Too bad about those lost powers, eh?
Akira takes a sharp right, ensuring Kurapika will have to hold on if he doesn't want to fall off and get run over by the cart.]
That was a rough one! You still there, babe?
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Naturally, he huffs out another sigh. ]
You're annoying.
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[No, he's quite sure Kurapika can't stand his bullshit. At the very least, Akira knows when to cull his antics, so he won't be taking anymore sharp rights on their way into Southern territory. He's merciful like that.]
So what's the reason you're in such a rush to go home? Have a wife and kid waiting?
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No. [ Does he look like he has children??? ] I was in the middle of a bodyguard job for a young prince that got caught up in a deadly throne succession game.
[ It's a lot, but it's the most succinct way he can describe it without getting into the nitty gritty of it all. ]
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[Not that he doubts your story, Pika, but those are the sorts of high stakes adventures you only hear about in books and film.]
Are you winning?
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[ It's a rhetorical question, but he wouldn't be opposed to Akira's thoughts on the matter either, even though Kurapika is clearly set in his views on it. ]
I've managed to get a ceasefire between us and a few of the princes, but I know that'll only hold out for so long.
[ And when that ends... he doesn't know what he'll have to do, and so he lapses into a silence, letting Akira fill in the blanks there. ]
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[Reprehensible or not, Kurapika is taking part in that game. When you boil it down to the basics, someone will come out on top and someone will fail.]
Is that your goal, then? To resolve things as peacefully as possible?
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Ideally, yes. But I'll kill whoever I need to, should that come to pass.
[ As much as he hates the idea, he's resolved to do exactly as he says, his heartbeat just as calm as it has been ever since he wrapped his arms around Akira's middle for purchase on the broom. ]
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Murder, huh?
[He has a lot to say on that particular subject and would have, if it weren't for the influence of a certain someone. Instead, Akira falls silent until they come to a stop hopping off his broom to round the cart and start unloading bags of sugar. He's gonna miss those arms around his waist.]
Well, I'm not about to tell you what's right or what's wrong in a situation I know nothing about. I just hope it doesn't come down to any unnecessary bloodshed. For your sake, I mean.
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...Thanks.
[ There's a hesitant sincerity, but it's there. ]
Killing is one of the worst things anyone can do. I'd rather not do it if I can help it.
[ And on that lovely note, he quickly makes his way to the tower to deliver to those merchants! ]
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Nah, probably not. Types like these don't react well to sincerity even if they appreciate it from the bottom of their heart. Akira's come to know that painfully well.
At any rate, he piles as many bags of sugar as he can onto his shoulders and follows Kurapika. The merchant is grateful, of course, but he conveniently left his wallet at home and can't thank them properly (aka pay them) for their hard work. Go figure.]
But it'd be naive to think killing is entirely avoidable, right? Especially in cases like war. Conveniently, the people in control never have to get any blood on their hands.
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So, he simply stuffs his hands into his pockets as he walks towards a stall selling fruit to idle beside it. ]
It's unavoidable in some cases, yes, but an honorable person would do everything in their power to seek out every other possible outcome.
[ He pauses, very obviously thinking about Akira's words. ]
...In my world, the ones in charge love to get blood on their hands.
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Then they're a lot less cowardly than the people in power in my world... not that that's much better. Either way, I agree with you. Ending a life should be a last resort.
[...But while they're here looking at food, Akira gets an idea.]
You hungry? I feel like I owe you a favor.
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Why would you owe me one? You're the one that brought us here.
[ Not that he minds, but... he didn't do anything. ]
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[Well, Kurapika? You helped him produce the sugar, bag it up, load it onto the cart, and deliver it to the merchant. That's not nothing.]
I was thinking of making lunch anyway. The recipe I use makes multiple servings and it's best when it's fresh, so how about it?
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[ It was on the job board and therefore necessary, after all! He doesn't feel like he went out of his way to do anything in particular.
However... he's not one to say no to a free meal, especially if he doesn't have to suffer through cooking it himself. Though there's a little bit of hesitation, he nods. ]
...But sure. [ Kurapika reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a little notepad and pen he grabbed from the manor. ] I can write down the ingredients you need and help you get them.
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Alright. To start with...
[...Cue the rattling off of ingredients needed for Sojiro's special curry. Got all that, Pika?]
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That's not too bad, and I don't think it'll take that long to gather everything.
[ ...He's already grouping the ingredients together on another page, sorting them in the groups in which they could be found together. ]
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What sort of fancy private school did you go to? Your notes are way more meticulous than mine.
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I never went to school. Nothing formal, at least.
[ Kind of hard to when you're living in an extremely remote village, after all. ]
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[Akira purposefully tamps down on any surprise in his voice. Homeschooling is a thing, and while he could ask Kurapika for the details, that... might be a bit much on their first meeting. Instead, let him attempt to find some common ground while they gather up the ingredients for lunch/dinner (linner??)]
Did you have books or stories you could read back home?
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