FEBRUARY INTRO LOG( FEB 16TH & 17TH )
february 16 ↴ INTRO: NEW WANDERERS' ARRIVAL! Our batch of new Wanderers wake this morning, as all new Wanderers have before, on a plush bed with a mild but lingering sense of recent disorientation. Frigg greets them as per normal, though rather than outright escorting Wanderers to the front doors this time, she and Sigyn allow the Wanderers time and space to leave their bed, meet the pantheon, and even depart the palace at their own pace - but not without a warning. All Wanderers must choose a deity to tether to before dawn the next day, or else one of the gods will choose them. This is of grave importance, as that's precisely how long the magic giving them form is able to last untethered before the Mother's own magic overwhelms it.
(Though the gods are more than willing to allow Wanderers to leave, it's worth noting that many a castle servant - natives, born in this land - might see fit to intercede and insist on the choosing of a god before Wanderers step off the Gladsheim Palace grounds.)
Stepping outside, you're greeted by an almost bright and sunny day... Undermined thoroughly by a sharp, biting wind that permeates any small gap in your clothing. I bet the gods might give you a sweater, if you ask. It probably won't even look that absurd, depending on which one you ask. A trail of what seems like stringless balloons float at eye level from just outside the palace door, guiding Wanderers down the path to a notice board just outside the palace grounds. On this notice board, Wanderers find a brief handwritten guide to accessing the city map on their cuffs, specifically denoting the little colored house icons ( ⌂ ) to help Wanderers make their way to each god's housing.
Also on this board appear to be a variety of job listings, for those who want to get more involved in Asgard as a whole. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? There's more than enough time for that once you've chosen a god to tether to in the first place. february 17 ↴ GOD CURSE: CHARACTER-BUILDING WITH SKADI. The storm brewing within Skadi is hardly a secret. She was impatient during the gods' supposedly unanimous address, and in the days to follow, Sigyn (with all her desperately good intentions) tried to balm the irritation but only abraded the goddess further still. She attended the Wanderers' arrival purely by the letter of her duty and swept back out the doors as soon as that duty released her, and since then she's been holed up in her temple, her pointy-faced statues positioned just outside as sentinels meant to intimidate mortals away.
They dared to tell her that she does nothing. Nothing for the Wanderers, that is. Nothing to help them grow and self-actualize, as if these 'Wanderers' are so much more important than Asgard itself, which weakens by the day as her fellow gods fling their magic about to overprotect the Wanderers, or even to satisfy their whims. The consensus to draw back some of that wasteful protection would have pleased her, if she weren't so thoroughly fixated on the slight that preceded it.
They want her to help the Wanderers self-actualize? So be it. There's no better way, truly, than to confront and overcome the ways in which you're flawed.
So the morning after arrival day, many Wanderers wake up with a stinging, itching spot somewhere on their body. Maybe their arm, maybe their back, maybe their throat. In that spot, as it turns out, is a set of words in a deep ruddy brown (almost like old blood) under their skin as if tattooed in place. But these aren't just any words - they prey directly into the Wanderer's fears, their regrets, their insecurities, and their mistakes. They're facing down some of the worst things they've ever thought or feared about themselves.
The other gods, of course, are eager and willing to try to relieve the poor Wanderers of these cursed marks... but they find that it's not quite so easy. Wanderers who seek a god's removal of the words find that not only do the words remain, but a new set appears: Flees the truth.
But that's fine = For most Wanderers, these words disappear on their own in a day or two. A handful of unlucky souls find that their marks linger indefinitely, or seem to disappear but return at truly inopportune occasions down the line.
MOD NOTES This is the February intro log and Skadi's curse, our mini-event for this month! Skadi's curse is is entirely opt-in - not all Wanderers are affected - and is detailed more fully in the 'This Month's Events' section of the February Bulletin, and you're welcome to direct any follow-up questions to the Bulletin's mod questions top-level. You've also likely noticed that god jobs are now live! The listings themselves can be found here (same link as within the 'arrival' prompt), with a brief FAQ featured over here. |
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asgardchrysalis2020-02-16 10:08 pm
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"I understand the feeling," he says, as he moves to take a seat on the couch as directed. Mostly because he had been going a bit stir-crazy this whole time, without his own farm, or rather, a purpose to call his own. Spending most of his time with his horse or his dog or training or helping another to train in the arena. Trying to keep busy, but to what goal?
"Speaking of which, have you seen any of the listings that have gone up about the city?" he asks.
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"I have," Jim nods, taking a seat next to John and setting both glasses down on a small table. He pours them two fingers each. "I think I've already figured out which jobs I want to sign up for. Have you picked any for yourself yet?"
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"I believe I have some notion of which positions I would be best suited," he notes, with a note of amusement. They have had something of this conversation before, after all. John's career as a soldier, and the fact that he will always be one.
"If you think for a second that I am not volunteering myself to be a part of Heimdall's Sentinel, then you do not know me at all," he comments wryly, raising his glass to take a careful sip.
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"Yes, I thought you would," Jim nods. Actually he would've been surprised if John didn't sign up for it.
"I am too," he says. "Heimdall, and I think Ambassador for Tyr. Those are more in line with my professional experience. I believe I could make more of a difference filling those posts, too."
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"It would please me to have a familiar face in service with me in the Sentinel," he says, reaching out to squeeze Jim's arm as he does. "A friend at my side. And as for Tyr's Ambassadors."
He tilts his head as if considering the choice, but of course it fits Jim to the letter. Especially given everything he's heard about Starfleet and Jim's experience there. He offers the other man a slow smile as he continues, "It sounds perfect for you. They both do."
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"I'll have to think on it," he says. "There's no rush to decide. But I'm glad to hear we've thought of the same job, at least."
He agrees with John, it would be nice to have a friend at his side.
"So is that what brought you over? Curious about what I might choose?"
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"I will admit that I was curious," he allows, after a moment, letting out the huff of a laugh as he does. "But I was out walking Gustav," he says, gesturing back to the ridiculous little dog he had brought with him, who has now happily settled himself down beneath his feet underneath the chair.
He laughs again, shaking his head before beginning again. "I was out walking Gustav and I had just thought -- well. It has been some time since I had seen you last, my friend." He glances back up to Jim, almost embarrassed to admit the fact that he really had merely just ventured out this way to pay him a visit for so simple a reason as that. "If... It is not a convenient time for you, please. Gustav and I will not be offended," he adds, sheepishly.
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He laughs again, then shakes his head once he settles for a softer chuckle, smiling at John. "Don't be silly, John. You will always be welcome here, whenever you want to drop by. I like your company, and Gustav can always make friends with Scotty and the cows if he wants."
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"He'll certainly try," he notes. "Doesn't know his own size, ridiculous little dog that he is. It's the nature of the breed, I'm afraid. Makes them wonderful companions though."
He glances back down at the dog to offer him one more indulgent smile before back up at Jim. Don't think he hasn't noticed the turtleneck that Jim has on, even despite the fact that he had been working out in the field. Shifting his glass in his hands, he reaches a hand out to delicately trace the edge of his collar.
"Has it gotten you too, my friend?" he murmurs, gently. The curse, that is. He doesn't mean to pry of course, but Jim had not seemed the covering up type, the last few encounters he had had with him.
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He coos a little at the pup, reaching down to scratch behind his ears when he comes over, wagging his tail happily. Jim's very much an animal sort of person, and he loves dogs. His own, Scotty, is probably running about outside right now, but maybe in a bit he'll come rushing in to excitedly meet his new friend.
Jim's caught a little off-guard when John reaches out to touch his collar, though he doesn't shy from it. It's more surprise than anything that has his eyes widening, flicking up to meet John's, then he manages a small smile, reaching up to cup John's hand. "Right. It's... I don't mind it, it's not the worst thing, honestly. Do you... want to see it?"