groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2023-12-09 06:57 pm

the beauty, the beast, the burned




BEAUTY & THE BURNED







All but overnight, howling winter winds seal off main roads and curtail safe travel. The storms will recede within a month — and the Merchant negotiates for the party to bide that time at the sinister castle of the clan Netvor and its cursed heir.

ON THE ROAD

The party departs at night, in carriages led by obstinately silent coachmen, who urge discretion. Above all, they say, the woods must not know you head for the castle. Inside, you find dried fruit, candied meats, candle stubs and blankets. You are assigned your first ride, but may swap at resting points.

■ Crossing the misty, eerily quiet woods, your carriage is attacked by large, demonic wolve. Coachmen scream to run to the castle.

■ Evade the wolves in the woods, until you reach the strong, tall gates and fences that encircle the vast castle gardens. The gates bear skulls that carry daggers between their teeth. To let you in, they ask for shiny things, wine and secrets — but are also susceptible to charm.

■ If you arrive covered in blood, the gate skulls call you a ‘beauty’ and offer you a dagger that you may take or discard. If you arrive untarnished, they call you a ‘beast.’



Image source.


HOME, SWEET HOME

Tall, dark and looming, with narrow corridors and windows of stained glass — the castle of the noble Netvor clan is like a slow-beating, putrid heart that powers extensive gardens and forest lands.

The castle rests on thick mounds of snow, crossed by red rivulets that stain nearby ice sheets crimson — a reminder, your host Julien says, of a ‘Red Hunt’ that the Netvor clan carried out years prior, killing hundreds of animals until their blood mixed with dirt. In retaliation, a forest witch cursed the clan, transforming its heir into an unsightly beast and his servants into inanimate objects or fellow creatures.

Once upon a time, there was a man. And that man had kin. And that kin was cruel. But the forest chooses its time and its champions. The land rebelled against them. Their people turned away. And only the beasts they so cleverly despoiled would still have them. The prince was spared because a glimmer of kindness he showed a stranger, to make amends. But the prince was alone.


You were largely given lodging at castle Netvor in exchange for entertaining Julien, the prince’s serene and startlingly handsome fiancé, who welcomes you with the main house rule: you must not see the prince.



BEHIND YOU

The castle covets you : doors and windows often thud shut to lock you inside quarters, candles light up or dim on whim, and you sometimes hear the echo of voices in the corridors carrying the secrets of other speakers, long after they’ve departed.

If you are a ‘beauty,’ statues slowly turn their heads or move when you look away, and you see shadows running through mirrors. If you are ‘beastly,’ you hear clawing at your windows and doors at night, only to find fading scratch marks in the morning.

Some servants have been cursed into inanimate objects, with others transformed into bird-like, monstrous but harmless creatures that stay largely hidden.

House rules: do not open doors or windows at night. Be kind to the servants.



THE SOUTHERN WING

Home to Julien and you, the southern wing is bright, airy, gilded and refreshed daily by sentient dusters and brooms.

Lavish sleeping quarters with en suite bathing quarters and generously supplied wardrobes. There are no furs or fur-lined clothes. Rule: do not enter Julien’s locked bedchamber. Julien himself heads to the northern wing each night.

■ Self-sustaining kitchens, where bowls, whisks and ladles perpetually prepare elaborate dishes and pastries. Visitors are often hijacked to test eccentric or boozy dishes.

A glistening ballroom with wall-length mirrors. Soft music erupts, compelling you to take a partner and dance feverishly to steps you somehow know or that a sentient cello can teach. Spinning by the mirrors, you see yourself reflected among faceless dancers whom you recognise from the portrait room. When you finish dancing, you spot ash footprints on the floor.

The villagers don’t speak of what happened to the rest of clan Netvor. Handfuls of people. If they are among the cursed servants, they hide themselves. But I suspect they have long transcended to a different realm of possibilities. He does not speak of them to me. But he does not speak of any unkindness to me. He is… gentle, in his way.


■ The reading room: a wide seating area with an enormous fireplace where the remains of prized hunting prey were traditionally set to burn. Strange bones and expensive clothing scraps linger amid wood kindling.

■ The object-servants (largely dusters and teacups) urge you to help decorate the southern wing with flowers, candles and baubles for new year festivities — only for you to discover burned clothes in the castle’s nooks and crannies. What remains of the materials is high-quality, ornate.




BEASTLY QUARTERS

The northern wing is dark, moulding, with torn wallpaper, broken furniture and soot strewn about — the signs of a failed arson attempt. The ravaged northern area leads to a tall tower that houses the prince’s chambers.

House rules: you cannot enter after sundown, and you must leave any room when you hear unknown footsteps behind you. Disobey, and you gradually lose consciousness as the footsteps come near you, and you hear only a rasped, bestial, Your blood need not spill here, before you wake with a booming migraine in the southern wing. Do this three times, and Julien insists you must leave the castle.

■ the portrait room: a gallery and library that displays brimming bookcases and the portraits of the family members of the Netvor clan. The faces have been removed: some by claws, canvas strips hanging. Some were burned off. In a handful of portraits, faces have simply disappeared through white erosion.





■ The prince’s sleeping quarters are in a locked tower chamber, preceded by a wide stairwell covered covered in thorny roses and hundreds of wilted petals. Slowly over the duration of your stay, you notice they wither and fade. Touch a rose and you hear hissing, as the flower briefly curls back into a blossom. Prick your fingers on a thorn, and briefly see names engraved the nearby brick wall. You recognise them from the room of portraits.

■ In a nest of rose vines, you find several notebooks — including one with the prince’s daily entries. On the day of your arrival, he scribbled, Can men learn compassion?


You must have seen them, the roses. They are his burden. The root and timepiece of his curse. Until the last petal withers away, he must rebuild the forest and make amends for the carnage wrought by his family. If the curse believes… the balance has been met, he will be spared. If not… but we still have time.


■ Each day at sunset, the stairwell roses bloom golden, as thousands of petals rain down. If you are touched, and you are in the presence of someone you dislike, you feel encouraged to apologise or make amends. In the company of someone you enjoy, you express gratitude, admiration or joy. Those who are already in love may find themselves (finally?) confessing. Optionally, some characters feel overwhelmed by sudden, bitter sadness, tears trailing down their cheeks — and a feeling of captivity, as footsteps draw near.



THE GARDENS

The snow-laden gardens spread wide and vast, containing archery and sword training grounds, a frosted fountain , a frozen lake for skating and several bridges for those who entertain snow fights.

■ If you are a ‘beauty,’ the blood-bound red dirt seems to stick to you as you pass by, staining you crimson. For ‘beasts,’ the dirt all but parts.

■ Each day, castle servants bring devote hours to plant trees in the forest, to cleanse river waters and seed flowers or plant trees.


This was a hunting castle. It needn’t have been. The villages serve gladly. Panna is only the nearest one, but they have dozens at their bidding. But the Netvor loved their bloodshed well, and so… each season. Crushing, killing, decimating. Even taming, tainting the forest’s wolves to serve as their hounds. That’s why they come at our gates now. To beg scraps. Despicable. Forgive me. I have a soft heart and a weak stomach. For my sake, he no longer hunts in the wasteful way of his people.


■ The familiar demonic wolves prowl at night, howling maddeningly and sometimes breaching into the gardens. They appear desperate to attack the castle.

■ Glancing at the castle from the gardens, you might see a dark, nebulous figure in the distance at a tower balcony that doesn’t correspond to any room you’ve had access to.



BE OUR GUEST

Each evening, you must dress in formalwear and dine in the great ballroom of the southern wing. The space is now poorly lit by candlelight, and you can barely glimpse your dining partners.

■ You are asked to never look behind you, even as you sometimes hear heavy steps and rattling nearby. Now and then, you think you can almost see a pair of golden eyes behind a dining companion.

The dishes and cutlery dance and perform throughout an elaborate, many-course service that all exclude venison. Diners feel compelled to trade anecdotes of their homelands and families. No one can leave for an hour.

■ At least once, you will receive a dish you associate with a close relation or family member.

Opt-in: Instead of dishes, you might (at most twice during your stay) receive an empty black plate. You must excuse yourself after dinner, lock yourself in your bedroom and keep vigil that night — careful not to let strangers in, no matter what they say or whose voice they imitate. If you open your door to strangers, a swathe of shadows overwhelms you with deep jealousy, loneliness or insecurity. Human company eases the feeling.




LITTLE TOWN

The gentle snow of the first few days worsens, until a great blizzard blockades you in the castle for five days ( OOCly around 17-22 December) — at the end of which, a bashful kitchen ladle and a friendly pot beg you to head into Panna village for supplies. A cart and a stubborn donkey accompany you for the 90-minute trek through the woods.

■ The forests are largely silent, seemingly peopled by animals of prey (rabbits, deer). At times, you find bare human footprints that seem to lead no where, some carrying the red dirt of castle Netvor.

■ Deep claw marks litter most trees in the woodlands close to castle Netvor. To your luck, the large wolves are entirely absent during the day.

■ A few small abandoned hunters’ cabins are still standing, seemingly repurposed as (empty) wolf dens. You find young village children are leaving cooked food and old shawls there. If they see you, children shoo you away.

■ The village is small, warm, chirpy and welcoming — until residents hear you come from Netvor castle. Then, they gossip and urge their children to keep away from your witch blood.


You must think the people of Panna disloyal, pulling away at the first sign of hardship. But the Netvor were so cruel to animals while they yet learned to torture men. They loved their prince, once. One day, if the witch’s curse lifts, they might love him again. But no one can care for a beast, let alone associate with one pursued by a witch, they say. They are wrong.


■ Villagers take you to a tavern to meet drunken hunter Viola, who may need a hand wrapping up a few brawls before taking you to bakers, brewers and lumberjacks. Sometimes, these sellers need your help to prepare the last of the supplies.

■ A nearby place of worship has left out incense for the dead, including incense for the wretched Netvor clan.

■ Viola insists you cannot stay past sunset and declines to accompany you back. Villagers say she was previously assisted the clan Netvor, but stopped after the Red Hunt.


QUESTIONS

NPC INBOX

clavesregni: (108 04 01)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-12-14 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[Is Cole positing a theory, or speaking metaphorically? As someone who tends to be relatively literal, Caitlyn isn't sure what to make of his more poetic questions. Although, with the sorts of magic they've encountered in this world, perhaps a person could, quite literally, live everywhere at the same time.

Julien certainly doesn't spend much time here, in any case. In response to Deimos' first statement, she says,]
I would want to spend my nights with my fiancé. Were I in his position.

[She slips the photograph into her notebook and resumes surveying the room. The rug looks hardly disturbed, no obvious tracks or wearing that would indicate where Julien walks most frequently. The bed has either been meticulously made before their arrival or it hasn't been slept in. She kneels to peer under it, in case something is hidden there.]

I've only seen the roses there once. They did wilt, but at sunset they bloomed golden.
bigsmile: (Default)

[personal profile] bigsmile 2023-12-14 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
(Seventy-six worlds?

Luffy can't hold the shock from his face upon hearing that. He's still wrapping his head around the idea of winding up in one new world, let alone 76 and he can't help the look of being impressed slowly cross his face.
)

Woah, seventy-six worlds. You must see some things! And you're not wrong, everyone needs food to survive so paying for it seems a bit much. Unless you're a paint person I guess.

In my opinion food can never truly be stolen. And don't worry, we can just wash the dishes if they come asking for money. Trust me I know all about that one.
clavesregni: (104 04 09)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-12-14 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Caitlyn is debating crouching down and holding her hand out to the dog, curious about it and wondering if it would behave the way hers do, but it seems most interested in exploring the snow.

"I wanted to ask how you've been. We've hardly seen each other since Alem."

Even if the dog isn't interested in her, she is curious. "I didn't know you had a dog."
clavesregni: (105 04 01)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-12-14 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
The wolves we saw when we arrived aren't like any I've seen in the forest back home. Wolves hunt because they need to, to survive. These wolves...

[The tracks stop abruptly, and Caitlyn stops abruptly with them. They simply... vanish, a trail leading to nowhere, with no indication of where the person who left them went. She scans the nearby trees, looking for any indication that their quarry climbed one, but she sees no telltale broken branches or scuffed bark, no displaced snow that would have shaken down from a branch. There's no blood splatter, either, no churned up snow or leavings that she would associate with a pack of wolves catching their prey.

Once again, she crouches down, looking for any indication, no matter of small, of what could have happened here.]
clavesregni: (106 04 01)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-12-14 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[Loss. Does Vanessa speak from experience? What loss could be so great that one would entirely cease to care about the outside world? That there could be nothing at all to live for? Having never truly experienced loss, she can't fathom it.

There's a framed painting hanging on the wall, the canvas in tatters. Caitlyn approaches it and reaches up to lift a piece of torn canvas back into place. The face of a young man, though it's difficult to get a good sense of what he looked like.]


The prince's family were killed, weren't they?

[Julien's words had been cryptic, so she's not entirely sure. But that was the impression he gave.

What sort of man was the one in this painting? Julien had said the prince's family were cruel. Is that true? And if it is, what had made them so? What had driven them to kill? She fleetingly wonders - not for the first time since arriving here - whether she should be worried for herself. She's hunted game, after all.]


Are they what he lost?
Edited 2023-12-14 18:00 (UTC)
traumatology: (X6BLAhg)

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-12-14 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
( he wouldn't have thought wangji as much of a snowball specialist but damn, he starts chucking them at bucky faster than bucky can really move.

he does manage to mitigate some of the damage so he's not getting pelted in the face, laughing to himself as he ducks behind the side of a building to try and get out of the way of the onslaught. )


Who's laughing? Me? I'm not laughing.

( much. )
inquired: (62)

[personal profile] inquired 2023-12-14 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Then, what drives you to ask why man can learn compassion?
downswing: (metaphor)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-12-14 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)


He wanders in, for refuge. The castle thrums, energies molten and largely quieted, but simmering beneath artfully brokered peace. There is an artifice to the house's presentation, a gilded veneer over soot and bones. He likes it not — likes the broom and mop who give him chase, gossiping over the strange pale cut of his figure, across the corridors, even less.

The kitchens, then, where they say another keeps empire. At first, infiltrating with the door shuttering silent behind him, and taking stock of the quarters — he suspects Emilia. Then, minding the ladle who hovers ominously near Emilia like a mother-in-law assessing the quality of bride that's only just married in... he re-evaluates.

The ladle tips his way, either to cast a curse of five generations, or greet him. He nods once in kind, then, fleetingly fussing with plates while a set of stubborn cutlery seeks to stab his fingertips, he presents himself with a bowl at the table's side, held forward. Chipped but pristine, adorned ceramic missing but one small adjustment, as Lan Wangji sketches a nod toward the food pieces constructed and marshalled before Emilia on the work bench.

"A kindness: he would want two."

...as if it is a foregone conclusion that Emilia provides a universal service for all beggars who, in Wei Ying's case, never did learn to choose. To her fortune, Sizhui is unlikely to favour intricate confections, still accustomed to the Gusu Lan palate.

downswing: (survive)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-12-14 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)


You are —

( Far too skilled at evasion, the telltale sign of a man accustomed to martial pursuits. If only Lan Wangji were more experienced in the art of... snowballs, or faster on his feet, he wouldn't land himself in an impossibility to pursue, a time after, the easy snow that peels off the ground now entirely consumed.

He is left with ice and hard surfaces, and withdraws clumsily, stepping back, towards a tree for a... strategic pause. Certainly not a shameful retreat. )


You may capitulate. ( Says the man now weaponless. )

downswing: (Default)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-12-14 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)


...were desperate.

( The tracks halt, prints dissolved in the midst of... no where. A no man's land of high, untarnished snow, and Lan Wangji fickle and adrift in the midst of this pale, eerie world, lost, if not entirely forgotten.

He calls Bichen tight in his grasp, the sword pulsing power through her fetters. Soothes himself. Then, driven less by cunning than the instinct to fend off the wind that whips and howls, carrying powdered snow in compact whirlwinds.

Down this pathway, then, through the ravine. Where the mouth of an opening peers. A... den. )


Keep your weapon close. ( ...the same one that Lan Wangji had begged dismissed moments prior. )

downswing: (pokegot)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-12-14 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)


( Sect thing. He flinches, imperceptibly, recoiling into himself. At times, the slivers of reminders of his home world — more than two years now parted — stab and sting. He hesitates — a sect thing.

But then, all prohibitions draw their first breath in the breast of the Gusu Lan. Why should this surprise him or anyone? And Luffy can consume his dinner besides — and so, he offers it first, before they need both be shamed by his clumsy, careless gestures to claim it.

A bowl here, fish and a deep sauce, equally fermented. Another, pieces of pork belly, fat glistened and peeling. A third, chicken and red berry fruit Lan Wangji would tempted to burst between sharp teeth, if not for the taint of their association. All gently but firmly nudged towards Luffy, like virgin sacrifice. )


What do you know of the sects? ( Conversationally, patiently. In the way of his 'sect.' )

downswing: (shoot out)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-12-14 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)


Negligence.

( It's ripped of him readily, rasping and quick. Perhaps he speaks an unkindness, affords the castle too little regard — yet he has seen no signs here of meticulous care or strategy, and whatever descent into beastliness has taken hold seems to have absorbed the priorities of the grounds and their inhabitants completely.

The servants only ever provide what attendance is explicitly requested of them, artlessly. The castle itself, bathed in sorcery, does not answer every need. Perhaps no one had troubled themselves with cleansing because it was a lesser priority in the face of acclimating to fresh circumstances.

Now, he walks by each portrait, one by one by one, settling before neither, but tentatively digesting scraps of information. He cannot tell the faces or expressions that wait in the paintings, but a part of him suspects: arrogance, vanity, nobility, entitlement. Perhaps honour. Certainly, riches.

But then: )
...why hunt for their sustenance, they so rich?

( Surely, to hear tales of the Red Hunt, it was done too often for sport, and too whimsically to ever imagine a castle might support itself on venison, when a nearby village grows tamed creatures of the household. )

aprescoup: (Default)

[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-14 10:15 pm (UTC)(link)




Hope.

revengeisalie: (FFS?)

[personal profile] revengeisalie 2023-12-14 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Rin was about to try again, but in the pause between practicing, she hears the faint sounds of what might be something or someone moving behind her, so she peeks over her shoulder to see the stranger who's arrived... and apparently made herself comfortable on a bench.

Her cheeks redden a little as she gets up and turns. ]


Ahhh... hello? Were you watching?

[ She does take note of the woman's appearance -- her dress foreign to Rin, but clearly made of quality material. As the daughter of a samurai, Rin has an eye for the finer things in life, even if she has recently gained more experience roughing it and doing without many of the comforts she grew up accustomed to. Rin makes a mental note of it, as she mentally catalogues everyone she meets here. ]
misdirected: the others (she killed them herself)

[personal profile] misdirected 2023-12-15 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's annoying, Cole decides, that he can't hear as much here as he can when he's home in Thedas. When he looks over at the cloak Deimos holds and it whispers nothing helpful to him, he frowns. (It isn't a pout, it isn't. Ghosts don't pout, no matter how frustrated they get.) He doesn't like not hearing things. He doesn't like not being helpful. He starts pulling open drawers, rooting through papers and quills as he listens to their conversation. ]

I don't like the roses. [ It's a little bit sullen as he says it. ] They're very pretty and other people make them look nice - a hand held, small smile shared between them, "I'm so glad you're here," "I'm sorry for what I said" - but they didn't feel very nice to me. You should be careful around them.

[ He very deliberately does not elaborate on what the petals had made him feel, how similar it had been to Cole's emotions before he'd died. Lucky then, that a distraction comes in the form of his fingers brushing something warm, something that sounds like the source of the echoes he'd heard before. He pulls a bundle of paper out of the desk, flipping through briefly but without even trying to read them; instead, he walks the bundle over to Benedict, as the nearest person, and hands it over before addressing the room at large. ]

This was in the desk. They're Julien's; I don't know what they say, but they're important to him. They're very frustrated.
valeas: (☾ 3 0 4)

[personal profile] valeas 2023-12-15 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
The dishes engage in a stare off with Emilia and Hermione, until they make peace with the fact neither is leaving. And so, they do indeed begin to prepare coffee. They don't even seem to be against espresso.

Thank the goddess.

"Extremely," she whispers back at Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. There's a sort of knowing glint to her eyes, however, as she asks, "Have you come from the library?"
cosplayqueen: (marvel - shield)

kamala khan (ms. marvel) - mcu

[personal profile] cosplayqueen 2023-12-15 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Open starters below as I make them. Feel free to request something closed or wildcard!]
valeas: (☾ s v e g l i a)

[personal profile] valeas 2023-12-15 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
"Well enough," shall be the understatement of the day, and quite obviously so, but Emilia likes to be challenging, even in a teasing sense. There's always room for improvement, not to mention creativity, and she thinks he can tire her out all the more this evening. Only one way to find out, really.

She slinks across the bed like a lazy panther, only bringing herself to a stop once she's at the very edge of it, drawing herself up to a kneel before him. They're still not eye to eye, somehow.

She blames it on the fact he's too tall.

"I see the wardrobe is to your particular liking."
cosplayqueen: (cascading waves)

pre-event - canon update (mild spoilers for the Marvels)

[personal profile] cosplayqueen 2023-12-15 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
[To say she's uncomfortable with the way the party handled things in Ephes is an understatement. The goal has always been home. She is done enough that she taps in Five to make sure her return happens this time before the beacon fails. Kamala leaves everything with her friend for the Party. She may not like what they've done here, but they're still her people. She will always have their best interests at heart even when they don't agree on a course of action. You know never know when you need to hug a giant sloth in any case!

Kamala leaves her friends with tearful goodbyes. The teen explains she will love them with or without her memories forever. They will always be her dearest friends.

She returns to her family. It is short-lived like all good things before she gets caught up in an adventure in space. Kamala returns to her family in tears at the end of it. She lost a friend along the way. Her heart breaks as she tearfully informs a man she respects that the woman he's watched grow up is gone.

... Only to come back a few minutes later. To say she is shocked is an understatement. It's like getting punched in the gut. Reality no longer feels like something set in stone. Her tears are still hot on her cheeks. While her brain struggles to catch up with everything flooding back into it she's left to wonder if these are the tears she shed for Monica or her friends here.]
cosplayqueen: (marvel - prepare)

on the road

[personal profile] cosplayqueen 2023-12-15 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
[She's feeling pretty miserable by the time they load into the carriages. Kamala does what she does best aside from fighting evil by moonlight: she eats her feelings. She's enjoying dried fruit when the attack comes.

In a way, it's almost a relief. A boss battle gets her mind off what she lost back home. Kamala can be found hopping from one purple platform of light to another to get above the wolves' reach. She will generate platforms to help others into the trees.

When all else fails? She throws her hard light platforms at the creatures or hits them with a giant purple fist or foot.

Expect a comment under her breath about how the beast comment is totally uncalled for when they do reach safety.]
rumorate: (32)

the southern wing

[personal profile] rumorate 2023-12-15 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
Boozy tea sounds like it's right up my alley.

[Allison never says no to booze, period. Probably says something about her, but she's not analyzing it now. She moves to pull up a chair and surveys the plate.]

And these look delicious.
valeas: (☾ l e a l t à)

[personal profile] valeas 2023-12-15 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
"Technically, it is my husband's."

Caitlyn probably didn't know she had a husband, either. Their focus is often in the given task at hand. They may not always see eye to eye, but they're both passionate and driven, and there's always a problem to be solved. Perhaps... now is a time they can truly get to know one another. Emilia really would like to.

"My role as gladiator kept me from really interacting with the rest of you most of the time. I'm better, now that we've some breathing room, for however long it may last. And yourself?"
rumorate: (7)

[personal profile] rumorate 2023-12-15 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[Allison's brow furrows when she hears her brother's voice. Add to the fact that he's addressing a statue and her curiosity is piqued. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she moves to study the statue he's apparently talking to.]

Are you actually expecting a response or are we just humoring it?
clavesregni: (106 03 04)

[personal profile] clavesregni 2023-12-15 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Desperate may be a word for it, but while a desperate wolf might attack a human, the ones they saw on the road were different. Massive. Terrifying, in a way a wild animal never has been to her before.

She gets up and follows him down the ravine, her eyes still scanning in sharp little movements, looking for any disturbance of the snow or trees, her rifle braced against her shoulder. When Lan Wangji spots the den, Caitlyn holds back, raising the rifle. It makes sense for him to go in first; his sword was made for defending himself against things in proximity, while her rifle is useful only at range.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't feel the need. He's a capable warrior, she knows. He'll know what to do. Instead of speaking, she breathes out, slow and steady, her breath pluming white in the air, as her finger finds the trigger.]
rumorate: (27)

[personal profile] rumorate 2023-12-15 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Allison knows all too well the whiplash that comes with being spit back out by the beacon again at an inopportune moment. She promised Five that she wouldn't go back in again, no matter how desperate she is to, but it isn't hard to let Kamala go.

She deserves to go home. It's probably safer for her there.

Kamala coming back out again also likely should have been expected, but when she sees the look on her face, she knows that things have already gone wrong. So she just opens her arms to her and let's her come for the hug she likely wants.]


Hey. Guess things didn't go as planned.

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