spellbinders | [WORLD ONE | OCTOBER INTRO LOG]

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[WORLD ONE | OCTOBER INTRO LOG]

Who: The new coven members and old blood
Where: In and around the hub island
When: Day 92
Open/Closed: Open to All

All characters are told briefly what their powers are by Genette -- no extemporaneous details. For instance, if your character has the ability to detect lies, they'll be told as such -- no warning about limitations, repercussions or the like. They'll also be given a variant of this letter so they aren't totally ignorant of the situation -- though of course adapt this letter to the current setting and surroundings of the game.

This setting may be familiar to you -- maybe you caught a glimpse of it when you first visited. Maybe this is your first time experiencing this weird world and the panic is setting in. If you're totally lost, a tall human woman with a long scroll of paper will stop by to give you the run down. She'll also give you a letter, which may give you more questions than answers since the information is a wee out of date. (Maybe someone else can fill in some gaps for you).

What is at first painfully obvious is that you're ill-equipped. Any magic or powers you had previously are suddenly replaced with an empty hole in your being. That's not all that's gone, but perhaps that's what's most pressing.

Another thing you may notice is that there are others just like you, wandering around and just as confused. If you feel so inclined, you may want to ask around and see if anyone else knows what's up.

cook some of this (poisonous) eel, salt some boar jerky or cut into one of these rabbits

By the time afternoon sets in, everyone should be a little more adjusted -- or, they should at least be a little more aware of the situation. From there, things still need to be done and exploring is always an option!

Night finally falls on the exhausting day, and it's time to rest. Thankfully the island is beautiful at night, especially the sky. The night is filled with space worms, relaxing mist and wondrous sights in the stars.

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[ Hey, this guy might not be all that bad after all. He's rolling with everything he's saying and being open and communicative and... not sending them off on errands just to answer a few questions. That's like, the rpg-style headaches he doesn't want to have.

Though at his question, he kind of freezes up- one, because technically, yeah, Noctis IS the king now with His Majesty Regis dead... the fact that Noctis has gone from Prince to King in a matter of moments is kind of heartbreaking to think about, but he does quickly reply — ]

Er- ah. Yeah, I guess I do... I mean, he's king now, seeing as his dad just ... passed and all...

[ He looks sheepish about it, though there's familiarity there that might suggest that he knows this "king" more intimately than one normally would. ]

Haven't seen him around if he is. Or the others... er, you wouldn't have happened to see them, would you? One big muscly guy with an opened shirt and an awesome tattoo, and the other's a handsome guy with spiked up hair and glasses who "comes up with a new recipeh!" all the time. They protect him too!

[ He imitates Ignis, before looking at Gaelio eagerly, hoping he might have at least seen them around.. ]

[ ~~plz catch five green frogs at night when you can't see the goddamn things~~

Inadvertently, Gaelio trod too far. Clumsy by simple inquiry. A single blank left to fill, and easily. Prompto protected the prince, who would now ascend to the thrown, having lost his father. Passed does not sound violent, but it may have been euphemism.

It's a curious word choice, as is, indeed, the way that he speaks of them. Less as prince or king, more as -- but that speculates too far. And what happened to that father king isn't likely to have relevance here, so though Gaelio sobers for it, he does not ask further.

Despite the weight of it, Prompto keeps his levity. It's almost remarkable, and close to nostalgic, though Gaelio can't place what tugs at memory, tugged but unrealized.

His lips twitch again, especially for that imitation. Though he must disappoint that avid, earnest face. ]

No. You sound like quite the crew. But... if he isn't here, then it's better that you're alone.

[ That would improve the odds that this prince-king has at least two of his Crownsguard with him. ]

Though you may suffer.

[ He wears his heart on his sleeve, really- though there's no hiding things that don't seem harmless, but he knows how important it is to keep Noct's privacy, more than ever here now because of the potential for sabotage.

But Gaelio's confirmation makes him sigh a bit, not just because he's relieved, but also...

( I mean, they'd be fine without me, right? ) The thought echoes in his mind but he doesn't allow it to worsen as it could, pausing when he hears that last statement. ]

Wait, suffer? Why the heck?

[ He peers at Gaelio then. ]

I can totally look after myself! Been doing that my whole life, really, so it's no biggie. Hey, what about you? Anyone you want me to look out for, Gaelio, ol' pal?

[ Just lighten it up and move along, as he always does! ]

[ As he opens his mouth to respond, only for Prompto to continue in some form of exuberant indignation, Gaelio believes he's been misunderstood.

Parted lips close, his eyebrows tilting, a muted commingling of surprise and humor. ]

How impressive.

[ Humor, so humoring?

Maybe.

Someone to look out for. Gaelio does not misinterpret, but he cannot resist hearing and answering it as a more wary question, the sort a member of a Crownsguard should be asking. ]

Brigadier General McGillis Fareed.

[ A terrific joke, yes? Only as soon as he speaks the words, how little levity fits in the blitzed craters of his mind leaves them falling sour and disjointed, a clacking clutter in his skull. So he retracts. ]

Just kidding.

[ Yes, a terrible joke. Moving on. ]

Pals, huh... [ They aren't pals. ] If we're pals, [ they're not. ] I'll tell you, I questioned not your ability, but your purpose.

[ The suffering in being apart from him for whom he strove. ]

Edited 2017-10-22 03:59 (UTC)

[ He's not sure where the joke is, which is why he takes that 100% seriously. But that's a long name, so he's repeating it to himself, until he's met with a "just kidding" and the look of confusion on Prompto's face could put a puppy to shame.

Wait, what didn't he get? Why is that a joke? What's he kidding about?? Why's this Brigadier a joke- ack!! He's trying to figure it out until Gaelio speaks again, and then when he explains what he said earlier, and Prompto is staring now, his mouth an "o" of understanding, before he rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. ]

Right, ah, shoulda just said that from the start, yeah? 'course it's gonna be suffering not to know where my friends are, but they can still- they're strong too.

[ He can't help being a little slow at times, okay. But he does nod to him, looking a bit morose for a split second before smiling confidently again. ]

This Brigadier fellow your superior or something? So we're in the same line of work? Hey, that's totally cool! We should take a selfie together and make sure we commemorate the moment! Then we can post it up somewhere and-

[ He's lifting up his camera, when something occur to him... ]

... Is there any electricity in this place? Like, at all?

[ Truly, what more than this could fortify the heart, if enough heart remained: earnest confidence in one's companions in arms while striving for the one most vital and dear? Whatever his own fluctuations and diminished spirit, with this young man, his mouth tilts more than it has in two years.

A soft smile, fleeting -- ]

[ Evaporating at the conjecture that the Brigadier General was his superior, and Gaelio his bodyguard. Though it had been true, and that destabilizes. Both with the title of Specialist Major, Gaelio stood at his side, a poor bodyguard, more often protected -- until he was killed by those hands he'd most yearned to preserve.

He does hope that Prompto follows a more worthy king. His is not a smile that should disappear.

Gaelio's expression blackens, a sour protest prevented only by the lack of room into which to snap the word. Ultimately, a useful deluge of words, as the mention of a selfie and faltering intention with that camera distracts him from the storm's onset. ]

...I don't know.

[ To the electricity, glancing dubiously toward the mansion. New himself, he can only conjecture, and the somewhat modern look of the building makes it seem the most likely place should there be electricity. ]

But, I doubt there's a place to post a photo. It would be a disingenuous photo, regardless. We no longer share the same line of work.

[ Rather, the absolute adverse, as he now must kill his king. ]

Edited 2017-10-23 13:46 (UTC)

[ He's busy fiddling with his camera in preparation of the selfie setting when Gaelio replies to him, and his words make him look up at him in confusion before grinning with a sheepish shrug. ]

What, no longer a protector of your Brigadier? That's cool, bet you're doing something worthwhile anyway, right?

[ Like, why wouldn't he? The Marshal had to move on too, but he's protecting Noctis from afar, just like them. He reaches out to take the horribly tall man by the arm, before jumping up on a stump behind him to give him some height, and stands up on tip toe as he holds the camera up as far as he can get, trying to angle it right enough to get both their faces in it. ]

So here's to whatever you're doing, and my cool duty, of course. Smile!

[ Click, click, snap!. He's not even going to wait here, best to catch them au naturele, after all. He chuckles brightly, hopping on down to look at the image on the back screen of his camera. ]

Aw, look at us. We look so cool. Can't wait to show Noct! Well... if he's here.

[ He grins up at Gaelio then, trying to hide his uncertainty. ]

But it's good if he isn't, right? That just means we'll have to make memories of our own. Whaddya say, Gaelio? [ ( Almost said Gladio... no way am I missing that big brute. ) He tries to tell himself. ]

Let's look out for each other here, alright?

[ And a hand extended to him to make good on his word! ]

[ Worthwhile --

Worthwhile.

This is how it happens, really.

Even after Mars and Bael's hangar, it seems Gaelio remains susceptible to fluctuations and heated distraction when that man serves as the topic, even with his own initiation. less obvious on his expression, perhaps, but clouding thick within him. It might be fair to see brooding, and he's less attentive for it. It must be worthwhile, he thinks, but he's inadvertently mislead Prompto. The worthiness of revenge, of justice, of a killing, but -- ]

[ --but then Prompto's got his arm, and it goes quick from there, the thunder shaken from his face and clapping uselessly to the ground. In its place -- ]

Wait --

[ -- squinting up at the lens, half-obedient through sheer flummox, and what's Prompto doing behind him except oh, and the thought's so abruptly silly, the fact of the stump -- ]

[ --that when Prompto says smile, keeping half-obedient, he does.

Sort of. ]

[ The whirlwind continues as Prompto drops back to the ground, focused on his camera. Gaelio debates, the fingers of one hand curling against a compulsion to touch his own arm, and concludes he isn't tempted to look, because it's --

ah, no, he's looking. It's easy to do, just crane his head that much.

Gaelio concludes, really concludes, that Prompto must have a very generous definition of "cool," but then again, Gaelio hasn't got one at all. He'd speak to that, if only with something as clipped and indecisive as cool, huh, but, well, Prompto keeps to form and hasn't stopped talking.

Noct. Muscles or recipe, or something more -- king? ]

Edited 2017-10-26 05:45 (UTC)

[ The exuberant blond stops only once he's thrust out his hand, and really, Gaelio simply stares at him for a solid span of too many seconds for any sense of propriety. Intensity abated, if only in part, by his eyes flicking between that hand and that face.

Gloved fingers, the white fabric already dirtied, twitch in again toward his palm. ]

...It would be better if he wasn't here, though you'd be apart.

[ Agreeing, slowly. ]

Edited 2017-10-26 05:41 (UTC)

[ Not stalling.

Perhaps stalling.

It's -- Prompto's camera now has a photo evidencing that cheerful face and easy acceptance of grossly misunderstood camaraderie in purpose, and how readily he proposes memories and alliance. Like the white noise of static and equally fraying, in his stomach, his head. ]

But you'll continue fighting for him, won't you?

[ Strength for his prince-king's sake -- and that pulls his hand, lifted to wary acceptance. The second today and an exhaustion for his reticent limbs. Yet, even as he shakes, he warns. ]

You trust too easily.

[ Perhaps that, too, why he took his hand. Beyond familiarity, the jarring sense of reflection (though he doubts he had ever been this cute), this sort of guy needs looking after. As little-suited as Gaelio is for the job. ]

Edited 2017-10-26 05:40 (UTC)

Of course I will! He's my best buddy, after all.

[ Whoops, giving too much away, but what are the chances he's even going to know that Noctis is the king, right? Or even from Lucis. It seems safe, anyway, and hey, the guy looks good on camera. There's no doubt that he'll make a lot of friends- though his words make him blink up in surprise as he releases his hand after his shake. ]

Huh? Why'd you say that? You're not a bad guy, right?

[ He chuckles, then, looking around himself, before smiling. ]

Anyway, I'm gonna go take a look around- see if I can't find any familiar faces. If Noct's here, at least he'll be easy to spot. Might have to check all the fishing spots around...

[ A long, suffering sigh, before he perks up again. ]

'least I'll be able to show him our pic! Bet he'll be jealous! You sure you don't have anyone you want me looking around for?

[ No, he has not yet pieced together that "Noct" is the prince-now-king, whom Prompto has sworn to protect, his best buddy.

It would only augment his concern, and there's more than enough of that, displaced and projected.

Instead, he might be another member of the Crownsguard, separate from the other descriptions by being the best friend. Or someone else entirely, apart from that responsibility. (Or, indeed, he could be the king.)

A bad guy -- of course not, of course not. He's... he doesn't have to answer that. The point, the advice, holds without having to address it, and Prompto orients himself appropriately, to venture elsewhere.

The intensity of his expression fades, cooling with the impending goodbye. ]

Should I look out for him as well? It's a guess, but he isn't the man with all the muscles, or the one with the "recipeh"?

[ why would anyone want to see that picture or be jealous of it.

Gaelio gives him a particularly blank look at that, before moving on. ]

Positive.

[ Well. There is only one person he knows he could fathom needing looking after, and though he hasn't seen her in two years, she'd still only be eleven, and looking after her would be a given. To open that door would invite too much through. ]

Good luck finding your friends, Prompto.

Nope, not the same. Noct's not his name, though, we just call him that. Might have to look around every fishing hole, like I said. Might even be dressed like me. Except I'm probably cooler!

[ He motions to his fatigues, before grinning and standing upright in a displaying pose. ]

So keep it in mind, and keep in touch! Might have to give this telepathy a whirl after all..

[ He then lifts his arm, keeping it there as though to indicate for Gaelio to do the same. ]

Fistbump! Come on, now that we're friends, we'll have to do it! I'll keep an eye out for anyone that looks like they could know you, too. Don't get killed, alright?

[ MORBID. ]

Come on, fistbump for good luck!

[ Then what is his name? The question fleeting in his mind and discarded before speaking. Especially in a place like that, it's arguably irrelevant, at least not necessary, especially for this purpose.

As Prompto shows off his attire, declaring his superior aesthetic, Gaelio finds he needs to dedicate a not insignificant portion of his attention to suppressing another smile. However, he might betray it like his. At the mention of telepathy, Gaelio thinks to ensure he could keep in touch (whether or not he actually intends to, if he does happen to run into Noct, it would be poor manners to fail to alert Prompto).

Neither the letter's contents nor the exercise with the mirror had been instructive in how to send a message directly to a person, but had helped with what of his mind to focus. He attempts, finding it easier still by having Prompto directly in front of him.

Can you hear this?

And if he can, a thread of amusement laces through it, tinging.

The lifted arm then earns yet another vacant expression, which relieves the effort of suppression. More alarming: that he took to heart the friends inquiry. To leave his arm extended seems again poor manners, even if the gesture's crude, but to answer it would affirm everything said with it.

Gaelio amuses himself now with the quick mental image of patting his knuckles, instead. A compromise of neither acceptance nor rejection. Instead, he ... opts for rude. ]

Is that what friends do?

[ He'd definitely never with -- well. ]

Maybe we shouldn't.

[ ...harder to say than he'd expected. ]

But, don't worry. I won't die again.

[ MORBID, TOO. ]

[ The sudden words in his head shake him up- understandably, since he's not used to this at all. However, he does try to focus and reply then, eager to give a response—

» Loud and clear! I'm in your heaaaaad. «

Hopefully that got through to Gaelio and no one else, or that would be embarrassing, but at his question aloud, he replies-]

Yeah, friends do it! 'least where I come from.

[ He makes a pouty huffing sound, before he reaches over and grabs Gaelio's arm so that their fists can bump. ]

So we totally should! There! Next time I see you, we're gonna do that!

[ He smirks up at him pointing over as he begins to move off. ]

Heh, better not die, buddy! Gotta have Noct meet you first! See ya!

[ Exuberant even mentally, though Gaelio could not have expected otherwise. Loud and clear, indeed. Gaelio nods, hoping that suffices to indicate his reception, rather than inviting more of that.

Though it isn't... unpleasant, he would agree it needs getting used to, and as they're on a parting trajectory, he won't interrupt that for experimentation, however much it could be continued once they go their separate ways.

Having verbally rejected the bump, Gaelio's unprepared to once again be manhandled, and he's easily yanked into it.

At which point, even this shadow of what he once was ventures alarmingly close to flustered, tugging back his hand and looking at it a moment too long with a spark of something in his eyes, whether ire or a lighter flare, too muddled for definition. ]

It can't count if you have to make me.

[ Whatever it is, it infects his response too, a tetchy and dusted pitch, cracking with disuse. Almost exasperated, almost...

but Prompto's off, and Gaelio turns too, composing and composed, but for a lingering strain in his voice. Buddy. ]

Take care.

Edited 2017-11-04 03:54 (UTC)

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[WORLD ONE | OCTOBER INTRO LOG]

you are the cutest thing

no YOU!!

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1/2

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1/? not that many but i'm spitballin

j/k a lot

i never get to spam w/ him i'm GOIN FOR IT

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6/7

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I missed your threadspam so

can't compare to ishida, but...

Ishida was queen of threadspam... also I will get to the dream soon!

(╯✧∇✧)╯

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