asgardchrysalis | AUGUST INTRO LOG: MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

AUGUST INTRO LOG: MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

Who: EVERYONE
What: the August intro log and first god house competition, More Than Meets the Eye
When: August 8
Where: Gladsheim Palace for breakfast, around Asgard for the game/curse
Rating: PG-13; please take anything higher than this to a private log!

morning: a warm invitation

Everyone wakes up to a friendly invitation to breakfast at the castle with the gods. For most of you, this comes as a message on your bracelet, reading:

Join us at the castle today to welcome some new Wanderers into our midst. Breakfast will be served and a lively game will be available to all of our guests, both new and old.

New Wanderers are curious on their own, and this is the first there's ever been mention of a game. Perhaps it's enough for you to make the trek to the castle, to see what all the fuss is about, or maybe even to see if there's someone you know. Perhaps you want to learn more about the game, or maybe you just want the food.

For our new guests, this comes as a bit more of a surprise. Wherever you were before in your world, without even realizing it, you wake up in a strange new place. No time or space inbetween, just an awareness of There and then Here. A matronly figure tries to explain your circumstances with a sympathetic smile, but ultimately invites you meet them all for yourselves: the Gods of Asgard, and the Wanderers that arrived before you.

The sight that greets you on the castle grounds is a rather festive one, regardless of where you're coming from. Colorful streamers and flags are draped above large tables with room for several guests. Natives bustle about, cheerfully offering food and drinks to anyone that wants some. Everyone is welcomed to mingle and greet the new Wanderers on this bright summer morning.

the game: a friendly competition

Among the brightly decorated tables are ones highlighted in a specific color for a specific god house, and most of the gods themselves can be found sitting behind it with a few of their district's natives. They are here to welcome the new Wanderers into Asgard - but they're also here to explain the rules of today's game. There are coins hidden throughout the city and disguised as mundane items, and the god house that returns the most of their coins will win an upgrade to their god housing! No hints will be given, but the natives are excited to help facilitate the activity and happily invite you to wander through their districts to find what you can.

But you don't have to know about the rules to be playing the game! The coins are already hidden throughout the city, and no one knows what they are until they've been picked up. Whether you're banding together with friends to find as many coins as you can or blindly stumbling over an unpleasant surprise, the game and the curse are in full swing!

evening: a fair prize

At sundown, all of the coins in the city disappear at once, whether they're in your pocket or still disguised as a bowl. Points will be tallied and a winner will be announced (OOCly, on August 17) - but Asgardians are keen to celebrate regardless of who wins a rather inconsequential game. The same colorful display of tables and chairs is still spread across the castle grounds, although now they twinkle with fairy lights haphazardly blinking throughout the air. Snacks and drinks are made available, as well as more dinner-shaped meals for those that request it. Mostly the natives simply want to bask in the strangeness of these Wanderers from other worlds for a moment longer - but they're also eagerly listening to any stories from the day's mischievous game. Relax, enjoy yourself, or again, just stock up on some freely served food. Whatever suits your needs today. Welcome to Asgard, dear Wanderers.

[ OOC NOTE: This is the intro log for August, as well as our first god house competition/curse: More Than Meets the Eye. You are free to play with the curse prompts and searching the city in any way you want! If you would like to submit a map to earn points for your god house, please check out the rules to learn what to do. We will accept maps until August 17, at which point a winner will be announced and members of that god house will be allowed to vote for an upgrade to their god housing. As always, please let us know if you have any questions or need any help on the mod contact page. Enjoy, friends! ]

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"Not at all," he replies, politely. Which is to say that yes, it had been, rather, but his manners dictate him to disagree on the spot regardless of that fact.

"We were all new here once," he points out again. "Do not trouble yourself."

Instead, he offers her a little bow in return to her curtsy. His free hand pressed to his breast as he holds the hand with his drink carefully out to the side so as not to spill it.

"Please, allow me the pleasure of introducing myself," he explains instead. "Lord John Grey, your servant." There had been a reason that he had not corrected her use of the formality, after all. Even if she had perhaps not meant to use it in the literal sense. Lord is the correct form of address for his position, however, as the younger son of a duke. Not that it matters so much in this land of course, but society is bred into a man, and it takes a long time to weed it out of him.

It was actually somewhat comforting to have gotten it right, for once. It was so hard to tell if anyone had a station at all. And Josie had told her that the seating was...democratic. yes. Democratic chairs. Which was far beyond Ariadne's experience. It was always better to be safe than sorry. But it was even better still to just know.

That's what made her a good spy.

Not that she had any cause for those skills, at the moment. Other than protecting herself and her very, very green skin that threatened to show the more she moved.

"My name is Ariadne," she replied, ducking her head a little. No point in bothering with some false surname. "But you can call me 'Airy' if you like. Most people do." A nickname that suited her, really. What with her sparrow-like qualities and her nightingale voice. "Apprentice court translator to Princess Amanda Harkin of Valeria." She doubted Amanda's name meant anything to him, but you never knew.

It's true, the name does not mean a thing to him, but he smiles politely, interested in her position as she describes it to him.

"Court translator?" he repeats, raising his eyebrows at the sound of it. He doubts that he would recognize any languages she were to mention if he were to ask, but it does make him wonder. "Is there a great need for such a talent, where you are from? To translate between languages?"

He tilts his head at her, raising his glass to take a careful sip from the cup. "Do you speak many?" he wonders aloud. Being something of a scholar of languages himself, he is curious. Not that he had ever had the official title of translator, of course. It had always been a position that had rather fallen into his lap by necessity, more or less.

Back home, it could be dangerous to reveal too much about her language skills. But the more time Ariadne spent in this place, the more she was beginning to realize that the word 'Alastrian' meant nothing to these people. Sad and liberating at the same time. At least she didn't have to hold back in her reply. "About thirty six," she said.

In other words, 'all of them.' Or, at least, every language she'd ever come across in the realm.

"Unfortunately," she added, her sorrow completely genuine, "there isn't as much call for a translator as there used to be. Our borders are closed, which makes it hard for people to visit."

And, if she and Auntie Lysia had been normal translators, they'd be for want of a job. But being a translator had only served as a cover for them, anyway. There wasn't as much need to hide their work with the rebellion now, as the siege drew tighter and tighter around Valeria.

John cannot help the way his eyebrows raise at that response.

"Thirty-six?" he repeats, honestly truly impressed at the idea of it. "And I thought that I was doing well with my five."

He swirls his drink in the glass, gesturing at the city around them as he does.

"For better or worse, there is no need for translation in this city either. Which is probably for the best, as otherwise it might have taken me quite some time to manage this conversation with you."

Five actually seemed impressive. For a Human. Or humanoid. It wasn't that Ariadne looked down on them. Far from it. But she did notice that most of them seemed sort of hung up on the language of their own birthplaces. She couldn't think of a single Human or Elf she knew who spoke more than two.

All that to say, it put this man into a special category of 'interesting.' Not that she liked dividing up the world into 'interesting' and 'not interesting.' But sometimes, she couldn't help it. Blame it on her demonoid blood. Or the fact that she'd grown up living in trees. Or both, perhaps.

"It's incredible, really," she said, glancing at the bracelet around his wrist. His stone was purple, unlike hers, which was green. Heimdall? She wasn't entirely sure. She hadn't figured out all the rules, just yet. "We don't have anything quite like this back home."

John catches the glance at his bracelet but he is used to the gesture at this point. It's a common phenomenon, and if she were to ask then he'd explain her guess was right. (It's hardly any surprise, considering his life's occupation.)

"The fairy lights?" he inquires, tilting his head at her and wondering whether they are returning to their original subject or whether is referencing something else. There are a great many things in the city he has had to grow used to over the past few months himself after all.

"Well, those," she said. "But actually, I meant the bracelets."

Had she broken some kind of rule? Were they not supposed to talk about them? That was a bit like some of the Elf rules back home. If you met an Elf whose eyes weren't blue, you might notice it, but you weren't supposed to mention it. It was considered incredibly rude. It as bad enough that Elf had to live as some kind of abomination, without it being pointed out to them.

Somehow, social norms always took longer than languages.

"Oh! The bracelets."

Lord John shifts his glass in his hands so that he might be able to turn his wrist without pouring his drink all down the front of his jacket.

"No, I cannot say we had anything of the sort ourselves." He glances up to her, flicking her a smile before amending, "The fairy lights or the bracelets, for that matter. But especially these." He waves his hand in front of himself to indicate the advanced technology held in the little object, before shifting his drink again.

"If we desired to hold a conversation, we simply spoke to one another face to face," he says, gesturing to her with the quirk of a smile. "Or wrote a letter, perhaps, if one were not nearby. The bracelets are... Quite the adjustment."

It was something of a relief to know that someone shared her difficulties adjusting. He, at least, had had the benefit of time. Ariadne still felt completely untethered. And not being able to disguise herself was only adding pressure to figure things out quickly.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I've never received a letter?" she said, using the statement as an excuse to hang her head a bit, letting the hood fall further across her face. "I always thought it would be fun. I loved learning how to read and write. But no one's ever sent me any kind of missive before."

In part because it was dangerous to leave any trace of their schemes. And in part because most of the people who would ever write to her were gone. It was hard to decide which was the cheerier excuse.

John hesitates for a moment, wondering if indeed he has heard her correctly. His eyebrows raising again in surprise as he processes the information, but then again -- why would she feed him a story about something like that?

"Never received a letter...?" He shakes his head at the thought of it. He understands that he had had a privileged upbringing himself, but. Surely if she could read and write... "Was it not common, where you are from?"

"Letters? They're common enough." Especially among the Humans, who lacked any sort of magical aptitude to communicate across great distances. "Assuming you have someone you want to correspond with."

She paused. "Which isn't to say I don't talk to people. I talk to people a lot. Mostly face-to-face, though. I guess you don't need to write letters to someone who lives in the same wing of the castle."

It might be fun though. She could pretend that her letters came from the farthest reaches of the realm. Maybe all the way back in Deleo.

He gives her a look in response to her musing that suggests he does think she is perhaps a trifle odd. But not in a negative way! He's never heard of anyone never having received a letter before, after all. Nor someone who insists on covering their face throughout the entirety of a conversation. He has heard of it, of course, in some of the further reaches of Africa and India. But it had seemed quite exotic then and he doubts the should have the same reasoning anyway, not being from his earth.

"You would not have anyone else to correspond with than the fellow residents of the castle?" he asks, sounding mildly bemused. "You do not know anyone outside its walls?"

Perhaps she has never been traveling. Lived a sheltered life.

She considered the question with due diligence. Certainly, she knew plenty of people. But she couldn't honestly say that they knew her. "I suppose there are my old school mates," she mused. "But they never really liked me much. Most of them were Elves, and they can be a little judgmental if you don't have magic." Certainly, a few had been sympathetic, even kind to her. But she'd long ago lost track of them.

"I have an uncle who doesn't live in the castle," she continued, almost to herself. "But whenever he wants to talk to us, he just comes to visit."

Not nearly as often as Ariadne would have liked. Especially considering the fact that the world was slowly deteriorating around them.

Finally, she had to surrender, shrugging slightly beneath the blanket. "I think that's all, really."

John maintains the same bemused look on his face, though he doesn't press the issue. Perhaps those really are all the people she knows, in which case he dare not rub the fact in her face. If she is -- or was, he supposes, considering their current surroundings -- happy with a rather tight inner circle, by the sounds of things, then let her be happy.

"I spent a great deal of time away from home, myself," Lord John explains. "I suppose it is odd to consider the idea of it when letters were very much a fact of my life. My brother and his wife, my mother and her husband, and all of my friends... It was a comfort, to receive a letter from each and every one of them. To hear about their daily goings-on and to know that they were well."

He smiles wryly at the thought of it. Would he ever receive such a note from any one of them again? Would he ever see them, he wonders?

What could Ariadne say? Her family was more or less decimated. But it was always better not to let her own sadness get in the way. And she thought she could detect a small trace of sadness in him.

Well, that wouldn't do.

"How about this?" she said, injecting good cheer into her voice. "If I ever need to contact you, while I'm staying here, I could write you a letter. Instead of the bracelet, I mean. My penmanship is excellent. That it could be fun!"

His smile brightens at the suggestion, tilting his head to the side as he considers it (and her). The city is not so big that they should need to do such a thing, and there really isn't such a thing as a post or messenger service to speak of, what with the bracelets and the state of magic such as they are. However.

"I think that will do quite nicely," Lord John replies. "Though perhaps I should write you myself, to start. You did say you had never received a letter after all, did you not?" He presses his free hand to his chest, offering her the dip of a little bow as he continues on to ask, "Would you allow me the pleasure of sending you your first?"

For a moment, Ariadne had the hysterical idea that she had suddenly started living someone else's life. Gentlemen, as a rule, didn't offer her bows. She felt terribly important in that moment. Before she laughed off the whole thing and gave him another bouncy curtsy in return, realizing that it was only for pretend. "I would be delighted," she said. Just like a lady who'd been asked for a dance.

Dancing! Yes! That's what the party was missing. The entire morning, she'd been contemplating why it didn't feel quite like a proper court affair. Now she realized, it was because there was no music.

She'd have to see about that later.

"You can reach me at Sigyn's cottage," she said. Apparently, that's where she'd be staying for the foreseeable future. With Josie, which pleased her, because Josie didn't seem to care about her green skin or candy floss hair.

Ariadne couldn't help but wonder if John would so quickly offer to write to her, if he knew the truth...

Edited 2019-08-30 20:42 (UTC)

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AUGUST INTRO LOG: MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

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