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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If anything, Fran was in the same situation, indescribably happy to have met someone who they didn't have to explain everything to. Selfish as it might have been, it was comforting to know they weren't the only one.

Not wanting to break that moment, the nymph nods, holding her gaze for a long few seconds before finally leaning back with a little sigh.

When they finally speak, it's with a soft tone just above a whisper. "Could you tell me a bit about yourself? What kind of things do you enjoy, Airy?"

She wasn't used to talking about herself. That wasn't something a spy was expected to do. So Ariadne took a moment to consider the question carefully. As if she were wondering it herself for the first time.

What kinds of things did she enjoy?

"I like plants," she said, surprised by the simplicity of it. "I think, if I could choose any profession for myself, it would be as a gardener. Or...no. Not something that meant staying in the same place all the time. Maybe an herb merchant. I'd like to travel and collect all different kinds of flowers."

A corner of the nymph's lips twist upwards, a good choice, it seems. Not that there were any bad choices.

"Of course... " It was always interesting, to Fran, how most people thought of things as a form of work. "And if you didn't need a profession, would you simply travel to collect?"

"I suppose so," she replied. "And maybe become a storyteller like..." She hesitated. And then realized that she didn't have to. "Like my father. He was our pack's storyteller. It always seemed like a terribly high honor to me."

Feofan had called it a 'burden.' But Ariadne was imagining a perfect world right now. And in that world, Alastrians were at peace. Both with each other and with the humanoid races.

There was no harm in dreaming. At least a little bit.

Fran perked up just a little, catching perhaps a bit more interest in that. Not that she has to wait long to figure out what part of it caught them.

"Are you able to tell them to outsiders?" Their tone is hopeful, it wouldn't be the first time they've encountered something tied to a specific group only. "I'd love to hear your stories... Perhaps it would be good practice?"

There were few things more unique and interesting than the tales passed down between groups, sometimes similar, often not. Either way, exactly the kinds of things Fran enjoyed.

A light, lavender flush rose in the apples of Ariadne's cheeks. "I was never really trained," she admitted. She had, of course, been heir apparent. Not officially, but everyone in the pack knew it. They knew that Feofan had that special bond with her. And if he had lived...

Well. He hadn't.

And Ariadne had been taught a very, very different form of storytelling. She was, without a doubt, the realm's greatest liar.

"I would have to...practice. The stories aren't just the words, but the notes. Like a song, if that makes any sense."

The enthusiastic nodding only picks up, both agreeing and understanding.

"Of course! A good story is all about the delivery. Gosh, can you imagine how boring any story would be if I only-" Their voice shifted to a flat monotone, trying very hard to look bland and serious. "talked like this ?"

The silly face doesn't last long, nymphs were not meant to look flat and bored. "I was offering to be your practice audience. But I understand if you'd rather I only hear the proper story~"

Ariadne giggled. It was both amusement--because Fran's delivery was hysterical--and a profound sense of relief. Fran had truly been a gift of the gods. Ariadne had never imagined she could be so open and free about herself. But here was Fran, not only accepting her, but assuring her that things would be well. Or, at least, they wouldn't be the horrors her mother had always warned her about.

Hope was easy. But Fran was definitely fanning the flame inside of Ariadne's heart.

If only she could find a way to better control herself, lacking in her scents and her senses. But that would come. Ariadne was nothing if not adaptable.

"It's been a very, very long time since I've heard an Alastrian story," she admitted. A solid nine, almost ten years. "Let me think if I can even remember one."

But, of course, she could. Her mother's favorite, the promise of a brighter future. She knew it might sound a little funny to an outsider. Downright sinister, even. But if she could try it out on anyone, it would have to be Fran. So Ariadne took a deep breath before she softly started to recite. It was as much about the words as about the delivery, which was sing-songy and perfectly in time.

"See the shadows cross the sky
The time has come, the raven flies
The fates have called, the darkness speaks
We heard the screams and felt the shrieks
Thunder rolled, winds grew fierce
Lightning struck, the earth was pierced
I tell you now, listen close
Those who hear learn the most
Midnight passed and in the morn
Our Prince of Fire, our savior was born!"

Nature and Nurture are both core parts of the nymph's being, even without their magic, that passive support came more naturally than anything else.

With a careful nod, Fran rested back on the grass, finally letting go of Ariadne's hand to pick up what was left of their apple once again, biting off everything but the core to plant later. She had only just started before they were rapt with attention, eyes slowly widening and listening carefully.

Short and sweet, if you had an odd definition of sweet. But despite the tone, a wide smile never left Fran's lips. When she finishes, they simply beam and nod a couple enthusiastic times.

"That was lovely! Is the Prince of Fire some sort of legend of your people?" The name implied it, at least.

"Sort of," Ariadne said, trying not to look embarrassed about it. "No one really knows who he or she is supposed to be, exactly. We're a nomadic race and different packs have different ideas about who the Prince of Fire is." She shrugged. To be completely honest, she hadn't put much thought into it. The need for an Alastrian savior paled in comparison to the saving the rest of the realm needed.

They might be one and the same, she supposed.

But probably not.

"How... Curious! Enjoyable either way." They nod, seemingly not bothered by whatever light embarrassment it might cause. Amusingly, it was similar to a story from their world.

"Do you know many more stories about this elusive figure?"

She shook her head. As much as her mother believed in the Prince of Fire, her father had always been a bit reluctant to tell the stories. "I know about false ones," she said. "But not the real one, no."

Once or twice in a generation, there would be a false messiah. Even her own parents had served one, which probably explained her father's reluctance.

There was a lot of darkness behind him. The gentler, frailer of her parents.

"I guess I just like the idea of him," she said. "Someone who's going to bring back hope. I know that in a lot of cultures, darkness is considered a bad thing. But not to us. Darkness is a friend. A protector. When it speaks, we listen. Or try to, anyway."

With a slight shift, Fran's head bobbed, either in understanding or relation. "Hope is something every creature needs, I think. Humans can be a bit here or there, but the same applies to darkness. You cannot have light without darkness, and the reverse... Both are necessary, and good!" After that they pause, pulling out another small fruit and munching on it to punctuate the conversation. It was getting late, after all.

"There was something similar in my world. Though he was a figure that appeared in many cultures." They began, leading into a little tale of their own.

"Many stories told of a Prince, exiled from his land by the corrupted world he lived in. Struggling both to live and to reclaim his throne, they all said nine mark-bearers -- or chosen ones, or found friends, so on -- would come to his aid and, together, bring his kingdom back to peace." It had a few variations among each group of people but, in general, the themes remained the same. Fran wasn't going to get muddied up in the details.

"Nine mark-bearers?" Ariadne asked, leaning forward just a little bit, her hands in the grass in front of her. "What are those?"

She didn't believe for one second that Fran's Prince and her own were the same. But over the course of nine years living among the Elves, she'd started to detect certain patterns that came in myths and prophecies and legends. What the patterns meant, she couldn't say. But she figured that the more she studied them, the more she might come to understand.

One day.

She was only nineteen, after all.

"Mhm- Always nine, too."

Another soft crunch on the apple before they continued. "It changes, sometimes. Often it's a physical, like a birthmark or some sort of magic tattoo that appears. Other times its a mental connection, or some 'sense' of knowing."

At that, Fran can't help but let out a little laugh. It's likely some combination of all of them, in their mind. "But they're merely people who are meant to assist this Prince in reclaiming his place. No doubt to become King and to usher in a new age for... you know how it goes~"

She did. She knew how it went. And never tired of the idea. Of course, given her current circumstances at home, that wasn't much of a surprise. The notion of...unity, of peace...it felt like a far away dream.

"Well," she said, "I hope it happens one day."

Ariadne wasn't going to even try to look at the probabilities. Without sufficient knowledge of Fran's world, it was like looking into a void. And, anyway, she'd been told it was kind of annoying when she gave odds. Even favorable ones.

And when there was at least a chance, she thought they were favorable.

Fran's head nodded, flashing a momentary smile of agreement when their story finished. Their body rocked forwards, hefting up onto their feet with a teetering sway before steadying.

"Me too, I think-!" The nymph isn't entirely sure what role they'll play in that story, if any. Perhaps it won't even affect them. They left before they could find out.

With a gentle sigh, a hand reaches out to offer help standing to Airy. "Now- I think I've taken up plenty of your time... I should say hello to some of the other wanderers... or be making my way home." They admit, glancing out to the much quieter festivities. "Thank you for talking with me, Airy~"

Ariadne took Fran's wrist, not hand. She was grateful for the offer, but really, so many species were so careless with their palms. On an intellectual level, Ariadne understood why. Touching of hands meant something different to them. But instinctively, it always made her shudder a little, to think of accidentally touching someone's hand.

Not that it mattered. She pulled herself up anyway, and then dipped curtsy of thanks.

"I hope we can talk again soon," she said. "You're very kind."

A lapse in memory, Fran's head bobbed in silent apology. Copying the curtsy, once their horned head raised up the nymph offered a final smile.

"I do too, you've been equally kind to me!" They return, one hand raising to wave themselves off before turning and making their way out from the edge of the festivities. Likely back home, for now.

((A good place to wrap!))

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AUGUST INTRO LOG: MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

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