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

traumatology: (001)

bucky barnes — mcu

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-12-09 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
ON THE ROAD.
( bucky isn't one to really run from a fight but a fight with a bunch of wolves? well, he knows when he needs to regroup so he definitely takes off. he notices that some people are taking off into the woods to lose them and he heads there as well, charging into the throng of trees and looking for the very first large tree that he can see.

as soon as he finds it, he jumps, the fingers of his metal arm digging into the bark. he uses that to pull himself up higher and higher, shimmying his way up onto a thick brand where he perches.

below him, he can hear the growling of the wolves but he doesn't think they'll be able to climb like he can. when they turn to leave, bucky stays where he is, looking for anyone else who might be seeking out safety. )


THE GARDENS.
( he likes the quiet and the stillness of the gardens so when it feels like the walls are starting to close in on him, he retreats out there, boots kicking up the snow.

there's a few other people out there but they mostly leave him alone so bucky finds a bench and sits down. after a few moments of just sitting there, he reaches down, gloved hands finding the cold snow and he balls it up. he remembers doing this a long, long time ago when things had been different, when his life had been easier. he remembers hurling a snowball at a friend long since gone and while those memories assault him, he hunches over, eyes staring daggers at the white snow.

eventually, he shakes himself free of that and stands up, tossing the snowball in a random direction. hopefully he doesn't hit anyone who might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. )


BE OUR GUEST.
( he's dressed up and he doesn't want to be. but, it's a requirement and while he could just beg off, he doesn't. don't ask him why.

but being dressed up is almost immediately forgotten when the dishes and cutlery start a song and dance number. look, he's seen a lot of strange things and he's been a lot of weird places but this is...this might top it.

all bucky can do is stare. if everyone else around him weren't seeing the same thing, he'd think his mind might have finally broken but he knows this isn't just him seeing what's happening.

if it's a hallucination, it's a mass hallucination and thats...not a comfort but it's something. )


WILDCARD.
( if you'd like to do something that's not above, feel free to wildcard it up. )
bigsmile: (70)

monkey d luffy | one piece (la) - beauty

[personal profile] bigsmile 2023-12-10 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
cw: alcohol

(Be Our Guest)

( Apparently every night they need to go eat and Luffy doesn't need to be told twice when it comes to mealtimes. This place is vast and strange, but there doesn't seem to be malice that he can perceive when it comes to what's being served and if there is, Luffy knows he can deal with it. He's not new to fighting and knows he can take down an enemy if need be. Plus, free food every day? Who'd turn that down?

The attire is something else though, Luffy managing to find a black and red attire that suits him from the wardrobe. He's even wearing pants as opposed to his usual standard denim shorts; his crew and Buggy have managed to wrangle the captain into something presentable for once. The straw hat stays perched on his head though and the sandals remain as there are some battles that apparently can't be won.

It's difficult to see much in the dimly lit room, but the dishes seem intent on giving a show and Luffy is always happy to eat, tucking in too the food without a care in the world. He's been poisoned before and managed to walk it off, now would be no different and he's talking to anyone sitting nearby as they eat. Every so often his brown eyes will squint and look behind someone before Luffy shrugs and goes back to his food.
)

So what kind of food does everyone have back home? Is it like this?

(Glistening Ballroom)
( Luffy isn't one to be overly wowed by displays of opulence and granduer, but even he can appreciate the ballroom he's managed to find himself in. Vast mirrors adorn the walls, grand chandeliers hang from the ceiling and Luffy gives a quiet wow to himself as he wanders on through on his quest to find the kitchens. He has got to tell the crew about this!

There's music playing in the background, a melody that stirs something within Luffy resulting in an urge to waltz and dance away. He doesn't know much about it, dancing not really a prerequisite to pirating or being a captain, so he looks around with an almost puzzled look, foot tapping to the beat of the tune.
)

Huh, not bad!

(The Gardens)
( The snow is a welcome change, it's an environment Luffy hasn't really come across yet in his travels. Everything is cold, icy and surprisingly damp and he wanders the gardens, intent on exploring and doing his best to shake off the red dirt that insists on sticking to him. He's also gathering snowballs as he goes, making small piles of them here and there, ready and willing to dive into a snowball battle at the drop of a hat. )

(Southern Wing: Kitchens)
( Finally Luffy finds his way to the kitchens and it's just as majestic as he's imagined. Utensils and crockery work away, cooking up dishes constantly as he watches. Every so often he's offered something to try and Luffy takes it seriously as he enjoys every bite, supplying his feedback as he anticipates the next meal that comes his way.

At this rate he's never leaving the kitchen. Unfortunately for the future pirate king, Luffy doesn't taste the booze in the dishes that start appearing in front of him and it's only when he gets up from the table and staggers, hiccupping quietly as Luffy squints around the room. For a pirate Luffy is shockingly lightweight when it comes to alcohol, normally ordering milk when others are happily drinking.
)

Which — where'd the bedrooms go again? What?

(Wildcard)
( ooc: Luffy will be exploring as much of the castle as he can, trying to make sense of things but not worrying too hard about it. Feel free to put anything here and will be happy to go with it! Or alternatively reach out to me by PM or plurk! )
Edited 2023-12-10 09:00 (UTC)
companionsgrasp: (004)

Viola

[personal profile] companionsgrasp 2023-12-10 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
Benedict sidled up next to Viola at the bar. They'd said she could help them find supplies. The detective had another intent as well but he was genuine enough in his desire to help the villagers out so that the team could earn the supplies for the castle.

"So the lumberjack insisted I get a good workout for the day," he said facetiously with a roll of one of his shoulders. Yeah, that had been fun. "I think I need a drink now. You? Need another round?" he offered.
bhaalyn: (001. ❚)

weirdly specific question time

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
If we don't remember our family members will there still be a dish? Or is it strictly from memories?
bhaalyn: (048. ❚)

Julien

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 11:01 am (UTC)(link)
( performed in private on a non-forbidden balcony, set after skulking shenanigans and diary discovery. performed with lyrics interspersed with flute playing with the last few verses being nearly stricly flute until the final chorus. )

Roses fall as cold as snow
Wintertide sadness
Whispers in the halls echo
Aching for compassion

Golden petals flow like soft sunlight
Dancing in the dark of the pale moonlight
Beauties grace the dance floor with blood on fire
Beast fall upon their base desires

Oh, by gods, something stalks these halls
Sadness and pain above come tumbling like the fall
A spark of love is sought on empty stairs
Anything for that last flare

Kiss me once before I'm gone
Wintertide sadness
Whispers in the halls echo
Aching for compassion

This land has wintertide, wintertide sadness
Wintertide, wintertide sadness
'tis but wintertide, wintertide sadness
Oh, oh oh

Beasts are falling in love tonight
While curses blossom in beams of palest moonlight
Seeking safety in walls of beauty's repose
While red begs to stop the freedom of flow

Oh, by gods, something stalks these halls
Sadness and pain above come tumbling like the fall
A spark of love is sought on empty stairs
Anything for that last flare

Roses fall as cold as snow
Wintertide sadness
Whispers in the halls echo
Aching for compassion

This land has wintertide, wintertide sadness
Wintertide, wintertide sadness
'tis but wintertide, wintertide sadness
Oh, oh oh

Love waits in echoes of ever
While the flow of time presses ever on
Later is better than never
Even when it aches for the one, one, one

This land has wintertide, wintertide sadness
Wintertide, wintertide sadness
'tis but wintertide, wintertide sadness
Oh, oh oh

Kiss me once before I'm gone
Wintertide sadness
Whispers in the halls echo
Aching for compassion

This land has wintertide, wintertide sadness
Wintertide, wintertide sadness
'tis but wintertide, wintertide sadness
Oh, oh oh
Edited (HES A DUDE IDK) 2023-12-10 13:58 (UTC)
wifedup: (iv.)

wen kexing ( word of honor )

[personal profile] wifedup 2023-12-10 01:57 pm (UTC)(link)
a. on the road
( The silent coachmen and long ride were boring, the wolves a problem easily remedied by the bladed fan he never truly keeps concealed - though he would have preferred not to be stained by the viscera, thank you very much. There is blood along his jaw, and down, smearing the teal collar of his robes, the white edge of his fan dripping in the dark, and yet the fight has not left him bereft of anything. Wen Kexing arrives at the gate with his fellow travellers in high spirits, lifting his gaze to the gardens beyond, an impressed whistle floating tunelessly through the wind. His good humour only lift further when one of the skulls spits a blade at his feet and offers him compliments, his grin widening to show all his teeth, playing at demure to the nearest bystander. )

I like this place better already.

( Still, they ask him for a secret as payment for his entering, and Wen Kexing, having been busy tucking the blade away and cleaning his fan off on a nearby leaf, makes another short noise, this one more unimpressed. )

Or maybe not. What kind of secret do they want, do you think?

b. the gardens.
( Those who know Wen Kexing - or the Wen Kexing that he chooses to show the world at large - might be a little surprised if they find him out in the gardens. He's knelt in the snow, carefully packing a large round ball into shape, hands a little red from the cold. Once that is done, he lifts it on top of another large round ball, holding it in place for a moment to make sure the whole structure doesn't topple. Satisfied, he dusts off his hands. This is the second snowman he's made, a little smaller than the one beside it, and he casts down at his side to pluck up a flower he'd found, tucking the stem into the head of the figure where the 'hair' might have been, leaning back to admire his handywork. )

Ah, Ah-Xiang, it's probably for the best you aren't here.

( But still, he misses his silly girl. A sigh drifts, and then Wen Kexing lifts his head to the sound of approaching footsteps. )

How long do you think it will take them to melt, do you think?

c. the kitchen.
( The pudding goes down wrong, or no, it goes down right but the sheer amount of alcohol in it makes him cough anyway, thumping a fist against his chest in order to clear it from the fumes. Wen Kexing is sitting on a stool, having commandeered a bottle of something presumably for cooking but is instead being drunk, sampling whatever the magical kitchen provides, a curious childlike glee at the opportunity. )

Well, if that one was poisoned you wouldn't know with the sheer volume of liquor.

( Back in goes his spoon, self-preservation apparently long gone, and if he's just talking to the kitchen itself then that's his own business. )

I prefer the other one, the one with the red fruits, but I suppose this one is nice enough too. ( Spoon firmly lodged in his mouth, Wen Kexing makes a pleased noise that could border on obscene. ) Okay, better the second time around. Less jarring.

( Sweets and booze, the house can be as evil as it likes as long as he has this. )

d. ooc: hit me up at [plurk.com profile] qingya or discord: sadgaydna if you want anything different or some plotting!
bhaalyn: (Default)

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Okay cool cool cool.... so follow up question I was going for here to torture you.

What if he does have a favorite dish he can remember that is the only dish he remembers....... like for example... dwarf meat
Edited (that one was mobile autocorrect!!!!) 2023-12-10 14:02 (UTC)
bhaalyn: (Default)

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)
NO VENISON RULE OMG

fine he'll stick to normal people food sigh
bhaalyn: (052. ❚)

Deimos / The Dark Urge ( baldur's gate 3 ) open

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
𝖎. 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖉


( [A] the journey thus far seemed to be full of teeth. first the winds and cold bit at his skin. one would be forgiven for fearing the blue tint of his flesh was from cold with how the weather beat down on them. and second... well the second set of teeth were quite obvious.

too obvious for Deimos' liking.

the wolves are larger than ones you might expect to find in woods, and almost downright terrifying in their own right. he lets out a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that these wolves are the exceptions to the rule in this world and this isn't what they have to fear through their entire journey. how did these people get so far if these hounded their steps for so long?

when the wolves step forward with teeth baring and spittle flying, Deimos is on his feet in mere moments. his rapier is in his right hand without a word, his crossbow wound around his left. he jumps free of the carriege, boots sinking in the snowbank, as he fires his first bolt off into the trees. a sharp, loud whimper, followed by a short snarl of a bark can be heard as his bolt finds it's mark. )


Run. ( he snaps at anywhere near him as the other wolves begin to move to flank. ) Before they close our escape.

( [B] snow clumps in his bangs while blood drips from his hands as he makes his way to the doors of the castle. he doesn't speak to the others, keeping his eyes only forward. he doesn't want to risk the others seeing him like this. not covered in blood, he's not alone in this. others fought alongside him. others fought deeper than he did. he knows most, if not all, here are just as familiar with the crimson viscera as he is.

no. he doesn't want them to see the flash of joy in his eyes. like a child let loose off his leash to play as he might. the spray of blood coats his face, getting into his very being until he smells nothing else. it may not be the blood of a human, but the beasts were large and plentiful. spilling their blood had brought a smile to his lips.

he chokes the smile down as he reaches the door of the castle. he's not only surprised when the skull speaks, but taken aback when it calls him beauty. he reaches up to accept the offered dagger with wide eyes, then glances at the person nearest as the skull asks for payment. )
Uh... I'm new and have no memories. May I ask for assistance with the door's request?

𝖎𝖎. 𝖇𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙


( Deimos sits at the table, awkwardly running his tongue over his teeth behind his lips in his usual nervous tick. it's not so much the request to not look back that has him awkward, it's the fact that he has no memory of ever eating at so fine a table. and faced with all the finery, he's quite certain he'll become a fool for a bard tonight. ) Believe it or not, I haven't eaten at a proper table in my near memory. ( he confesses to his tablemates before he can really think about what he's shared. it may be anecdotal, but there was no need to let the room know he was an untrained dog sitting at the master's table.

ahem.

he clears his throat slightly. )
Is there a point to so much cutlery? ( he glances at the dancing cutlery to see if he's offended one. he's not so certain he wasn't aiming for offense.... )

𝖎𝖎𝖎. 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓


( it's the first time he's reached a proper town in his recollection. he's been through the blighted village, the goblin warcamp, the myconid colony, the creche... So many small communities but nothing like a proper town that was still thriving. it's a bit of a novelty if he's being honest.

finding the wolves' den isn't hard to do. the claw marks litter more trees the closer you get to the abandoned huts. he's confused to find children present at the potential den and yet no wolves. why? why would the town allow such dangerous creatures to stay so close to home? to feed them? he thinks of Julienne's earlier explanation, but that's the castle. it's at least got gates to keep it safe. the town doesn't have such defenses and allows it's children close to the danger. and... cooked food? even he doesn't always eat his meat cooked, a wolf wouldn't be so picky he thinks.

then there's the shawls... )
Why do you think they leave the shawls? ( his eyes narrow as the kids try to shoo him away, but instead he tries to address a fellow caravan traveller. ) The food is strange enough. The shawls don't make sense.

𝖎𝖛.𝖘𝕶𝖚𝖑𝕶𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖊 ( ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɴᴇᴅɪᴄᴛ/ᴄᴏʟᴇ/ᴄᴀɪᴛʟʏɴ )


( Deimos did his best to choose those he approached to help him sneak into Julienne's quarters. he doesn't know people very well yet, but what better way to get to know his companions than through skulking about in the shadows together? he thinks it makes for a great bonding experience.

getting into the room was middling what he'd expect. a simple lock to pick, easy diversion by Caitlyn and Cole. it's the magical barrier that tricks him most, makes him grateful he considered finding someone he thought might have some proper magical acuity. Benedict and his own companion handle the barrier, but when they get into the room Deimos stops short. his eyes are wide in surprise as he expected to find something of wild extravagance and magic. instead, he finds a room not unlike the rooms his companions and himself were offered. why the barrier when this room looked to be barely lived in at all? )


There has to be some reason the room was set with a magical barrier. ( he whispers to the others. ) We need to move fast and without disturbing a thing. Much harder with so little in here...
soulsrob: (Will I be pretty?)

Winnie | OC

[personal profile] soulsrob 2023-12-10 03:40 pm (UTC)(link)
A. The Ballroom

[Being here is an absolute delight, honestly. SHe's so happy to be somewhere at least somewhat familiar, spending a good time in the bathtub to get herself clean of all the blood she arrived with, asking the servants to style her hair and help her dress with much thanks and enthusiasm.

Shr flits about the palace, bright laughter preceding her as she rushes about with glee to examine and appraise everything she sees. The ballroom is no exception and, with a gasp of enthusiastic delight, she's quick to get swept up in the dancing, eagerly grabbing whoever else might be by to pull them into a dance
] Come, come! Isn't this fun?

B. Roses Bloom

[The stairwell roses are breathtakingly beautiful, even Winnie can't deny that as she goes to see them. She stares up at the blooms, committing it to memory. She can't create, but she can copy, and maybe, hopefully, she can copy this sight down onto a canvas some day.

The odd tightness in her chest makes her twitch in surprise once she takes notice of it, and then the tears streaming down her cheeks.
]

Oh-- What's happening? What is this? [She frowns, confused more than anything--she's never felt this before and barely can get her mind working rationally to figure out what this feeling is beyond the miracle that she is feeling something.]

B. Ice Skating

[She went ice skating exactly once before and she was not great at it, but that doesn't stop her from trying here again. And again, and again. She's a bit battered and bruised by the time she gets more of a handle on it, but that's fine, she doesn't mind.

It's fun to glide along the ice, her hair failing artfully out of her updo from exertion. She moves to the edge of the lake and reaches for anyone she sees, familiar face or not, to tug them to the ice
]

Come skate with me! Who knows when we'll be able to have such fun like this again?

[Her cheeks are red and her hands are near-frozen, but she laughs breathlessly and her grin is eager]

D. Empty Dishes

[Dinner is typically a delight, but she's seen some people get blank plates before, what it means.

Winnie's not surprised, just a bit disappointed, when her own plate arrives blank.

She pouts, then sighs deeply
] Oh dear.

[She pushes her chair back and glances around] Would someone accompany for the night? I promise I know lots of entertaining stories and poems to keep us.

E. Wildcard

[For everything else! Winnie can and will poke her nose everywhere and into everything, so she'll always be around precisely when you need her. Or don't need her. Whichever!]
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[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-10 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)




( By the looks of Viola, no stranger to the tavern, she has been either contemplating or consuming another round for the better part of a drawn-out morning. Despite this, head slowly nodding, she seems at ease at her table, slow to sip the dregs of her ale.

If she minds company, she does not say it, only pulling away enough for the young man to have room at her table's side. )


...I'm served. I don't need your money.

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[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-10 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)




( ...well, then. Well. Then.

Perhaps in a feat of diplomacy, courtesy or sheer awe, Julien survives the spectacle without bursting into laugher or flames, sat aghast at his balcony, gazing on.

Well... then. )


Sir. Good sir. You have the wrong balcony. This one belongs to a betrothed man. Happily so. Enthusiastically so. For a foreseeably extended duration, not to be... shattered be trysts and... stray glances. The likes of which grow jealousies in clawed hands.

( ...take the hint. )

companionsgrasp: (010)

[personal profile] companionsgrasp 2023-12-10 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, of course not. [a beat] It's just how we say 'thank you' where I'm from.

[She was helping them after all. He waited till he managed to order a drink before speaking to her again.]

So, I was wondering something... about the forest. You know it well, right? [She was a huntress after all.] Can you tell me about it?
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[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-10 04:08 pm (UTC)(link)




...sure. ( This, swirling her cup before deciding valiantly to dip in for another gulp that materialises off the very tail-end of her goblet. Where there's despair, there's a way.

The forest. Some might say she knows a thing or two on that count. She wonders, faintly, if she'd thank or begrudge them that pronouncement. )
What's your question?

bhaalyn: (029. ❚)

i'm crying ruxi

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
( for a moment, Deimos stands with his eyes wide in surprise as he finally registers what Julien is saying. and unlike Julien, he is not versed in diplomacy...

he bursts out laughing.

sharp, short laughs as he coughs and sputters to reign it back. He leans against the balcony railing, tilting his head in amusement as he looks on at the young man that avoids his gaze. )
I think you misunderstand. I'm a bard. I write about others, not myself.

And I wrote this for Netvor. Not... ( ahem. ) In some attempt to woo you.

A tragically beautiful song for a tragically beautiful land.
companionsgrasp: (003)

[personal profile] companionsgrasp 2023-12-10 04:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[He had been hoping she might say something to start from that easy prompt, but he could see now that she was the quiet, brooding type of drunk. The type that has seen things and probably doesn't want to talk about it (but maybe deep down really does). He knew the type. They were quite prevalent after the Great War.

That was all right. He could lead the conversation.]


I noticed some interesting things out there on our way in this morning. The footprints, the claw marks... the wolf dens. They weren't always like that, were they?
aprescoup: (Default)

s-sob

[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-10 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)




( ...well, then. Once more. With great feeling, such as compels Julien to drag a hand over his mouth and shield away further laughter. Do forgive him. )

Forgive me. I hadn't anticipated that. By all means, it's a... particular song. Keep playing. The prince might yet take an interest.

cartographie: (Default)

[personal profile] cartographie 2023-12-10 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Do the effects of the roses wear off as soon as characters leave where they're blooming, or do they linger a bit? Asking for normal reasons that are normal.
bhaalyn: (046. ❚)

[personal profile] bhaalyn 2023-12-10 04:46 pm (UTC)(link)
A particular song for a particular place. ( he doesn't mind the laughter. quite likes actually that he can bring laughter to someone rather than suffering. he wonders if that is why he has such skills with instruments. for the sake of bringing beauty instead of being the beast he is. )

Do you think he can hear me? ( he lifts the flute to his lips and plays a couple soft notes from the trail of the song. ) I'd like it if you could both listen to the song together.
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[personal profile] aprescoup 2023-12-10 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)




( Here, she seems to still — fleetingly frowning in concentration, in the way of all drunks asked questions whose answers sleep at the edges of their misted memory. )

Came with the Red Hunt, most of it. Over time. Wasn't a... an overnight matter. ( She sits the cup down. ) Forests are like bodies. Something goes wrong, they remember. Like wearing scars.

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