agentleooc | tdm 03

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tdm 03

Oh we were comin' around You threw me back down
You had my trust in your hands You gave it up again

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VIGILANDEN JUSTICE
Newcomers may have heard: just two weeks ago, the Blood attempted to sabotage the power plant just outside the city. For a brief time, the city plunged into darkness and during that time, Councilwoman Vera was shot and killed in the Old Town Bazaar by a young landen man. A small flower now grows where she died. No matter how many times it’s torn up, it grows back.

Following these events, the Strangers overwhelmingly chose to aid the power plant that keeps the lights on. With the perception that the Strangers are on their side, young landen men and women have grown bold. In the night, they creep into River East, where the Blood live.

Some of these gangs of landens do little more than paint Guild symbols on the walls of Blood homes: a hexagon with circles at each joint for the Guilds as a whole, the Tinker's hammer, the needle and jewel of the Crafters, the double-arrow of the Hunter Guild. They cover walls with incendiary words—words like bleeder and bastard.

Others are not so kind. They bring portable muters with them and break into homes. They steal both precious and mundane possessions, frighten children, and terrify parents. They go to the single altar in Draega and smash the treasures of the Blood’s faith, knocking over candles and lighting tapestries that honor the Darkness on fire.

Have you friends in Draega already? Perhaps you met someone at breakfast at the Queen’s Residence, and now as you walk the streets together, you come across one of these landen gangs. The news is full of reports about what they’re doing. Now, it seems, the choice is yours. Do you stop them or join them? The Queen has asked you to help broker peace between the landens and the Blood, but she’s also given you the worst freedom of all: that of choice. Perhaps you think it best to support these gangs in their desire to even the odds against the Blood.

WARM FRONT
The explosion at the power plant caused a surge of power that damaged elektriline heaters in homes across Draega, leaving many in the cold. The Queen, seeing her people in need, immediately dispatched her court to provide heating spells for these homes. She also asked the Strangers, both those still living at her residence and those living throughout the city, to lend their aid, too.

Members of the First Circle provide a quick lesson on how to cast warming spells. These can be wrapped around people or attached to items, such as small stones or large ovens. Depending on how much power is infused into the spell, it can last for an hour or two or upwards of a few days (especially when cast by a darker Jewel).

Many in the First Circle insist on going to the homes in River East—the Blood homes, places where they are more likely to be welcomed. Some certainly choose this because being around the landens makes them nervous and uneasy, but some outright refuse to help the landens, especially those who live in River North where the Guilds do their business. Prince Barret and Lords Jared and Yarl in particular won’t go to the landen parts of town, leaving you and your partner to canvas Old Town, River North, and perhaps even the slums to see if anyone would like your help.

Certainly, this will not be easy, and the Queen has promised a silver mark for each household you and your partner help.

POISONED GNATURE
Warmer weather claws its way across the land, lifting the temperatures above freezing for the first time in months. While much of the city reacts with relief, and the air in the Bazaar improves in spite of the violence and tension that hovers over the city like a black cloud, the farmers outside the city walls are dealing with their own troubles: cold-resistant mosquitoes carrying disease from the frigid mountains of Askavi.

Stagnant water fills troughs and furrows in the earth, becoming a toxic breeding ground for more of these awful pests. The mosquitoes have little interest in humans, but they’re hungry for animal blood. Most animals bitten by the mosquitoes die within a day, their meat rendered inedible.

Food is already scarce and stores run thin. If more animals die, people won’t just be a little hungry or disappointed in the tasteless porridge many are serving as a hold over until summer, they will starve.

The landen Guilds provide a thick, smelly paste that can be spread over the animals, and the Queen requests the Strangers aide the farmers. She, too, can be found working among the stables with Prince Verim or Prince Allairavar at her side, doing her part to ensure the city remains fed.

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you're spinning the dial on your own device, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …understanding that some people— [She’s being polite about it, but she definitely means the Strangers.] —don’t know how to address a Queen!

[Aren’s voice is chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Quite right, Evandra. For Blood females, remembering titles is easy. Every witch you meet should be addressed as Lady.

[Evandra sounds a little surprised.] Even though male castes have different titles of address, a witch is always called Lady?

[Aren:] That she is! A working Healer or Priestess should be addressed by their caste, but if you’re just being polite in casual conversation, calling her “Lady” is enough!

[Evandra:] As they say: whether warm or rainy, when you meet on the street, you address her as Lady.

the weather
[A soft-spoken man’s voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He’s pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …rains coming out of Askavi over the next week. Farmers are advised to cover their plants. When outside in the rain, Blood should shield and landens should wear heavy cloaks to protect their skin. Worried about lesions from the rains? The Medicos have a new salve that…

the news
[The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.] …appointing someone new to the Ebon Council?

[Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.] It’s hard to say, Garret. With the Strangers in the city, it’s likely that Lord Grejor is waiting to see if any are willing to bring the young assassin to justice.

[Garret:] The landen who killed Councilwoman Vera is a member of the Crafter Guild and is currently being held by the Queen. There have been reports that the Queen means to implement some new process for judging offenses by the end of the week…

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vigilanden justice

Shit, you really know how to make a guy feel like he's at home.

[ arthur ducks into an alley, watching as a group of landens breaks into a house. the queen had asked them to "broker peace" - whatever the hell that meant. mostly, in arthur's experience, brokering peace with gangs meant doing so down a barrel of a gun. and he's starting to think maybe this is going to end up that way, too.

there's a lot of them and not a lot of him. (well, perhaps more appropriately: there's a lot of them, and he doesn't have a lot of guns.) so the next time he sees a stranger (that's you, probably), he grabs them and pulls them into the alley. then, quietly: ]

Hey, you, come here.

[ he nods over at the house - the commotion is hard to miss, with the sounds of screams and breaking glass. a few months ago he probably would have just moved on. a few months ago, he might have even joined in. but now...well, they should probably help right? that's the right thing to do. and, besides, the queen did ask for help. ]

warm front

Well, let's go then.

[ arthur isn't afraid of landen parts of town. at least it isn't the fucking bayou. no gators. no nightfolk. no ghosts. piece of cake. (it is probably not a piece of cake.) teamed up with his new partner, it's time to head out and see who they can help.

oh, and make small talk. everyone's favorite. ]

These warmin' spells are pretty useful. I can think of a few times it woulda come in handy.

[ not freezing in the grizzlies, for one. ]

poisoned gnature

[ this smells worse than the gang after days without bathing, but admittedly, this might be the best job of all. just arthur and some peace and quiet with some animals. and while the farmers are quick to get the livestock that's meant for eating, arthur goes to help the horses. can't round up your animals without horses. can't do anything without horses, really.

he's patient with them, working diligently to get them covered with the paste to protect them from the mosquito. ]

Now, I know it ain't fun, and it's matting your coat, girl, but you gotta relax and stay with me. Last thing you want is to get bit by some mosquito carrying the plague or whatever nonsense it's got. So just, easy does it.

He laughs, and more than anything it is a sound tainted with weariness. No, he doesn't feel like he did anything to deserve that comparison.

"Can see why he would. Honor doesn't stop people from bein' dead. You just do what you can to stay alive."

The tension does fade, as intended, even if what mostly replaces it is a bone-deep fatigue to his movements. The horse in front of him is still twitchy, pawing the ground with discomfort once the first layer of paste gets applied. This, at least, was a problem that could be solved with a little more patience.

Edited 2019-03-09 18:54 (UTC)

Oh yeah, totally.

[ leo's answer is that of someone who both means it and doesn't at all — of someone who's had his own warming "spell" of sorts for so long that he doesn't even know what it's like to be cold. ]

It's kinda like your personal heating blanket, right?

[Guts is making his way out of one of the other stables, empty bowl of paste in hand. His iron prosthetic is clipped to his belt and sword strapped to his back, but is otherwise dressed just as the rest of the farmers were.

He leans against a wooden frame, watching the other Stranger get to work.]

You sure you want that one? Heard she's got a bit of an attitude.

Yeah, like a blanket, sure.

[ he has no idea what the difference between a "heating" blanket and a blanket is. don't all blankets provide heat? ]

[ arthur glances over at guts, but doesn't stare. he's seen fake limbs before - not iron ones, but fake ones. after the war lots of folk were in the same boat as guts, it seemed like.

arthur just laughs at the comment, looking back at the horse and patting her gently. ]

Sounds like me an' her got something in common already, then!

The street gangs have gotten so bad that Mary is almost afraid to go out into the streets, even in the Blood neighborhoods. While landen haven't specifically attacked Strangers yet, she knows that they are generally seen as being on the Queen's side. Mary feels vulnerable, but this is a task that must be done. She's seeing about a flat so that she might be able to move out of the Queen's residence soon.

After viewing the flat, she walks back down to the streets and starts to head towards the market. It's then that she spies the gang members threatening a woman and her children. Mary remembers one of her first days here, when a gang was attacking a landen boy and she and Henry had stepped in to help him. It's easier to be brave with Henry around. Without him here it's up to her to step in and do something. She's still not great at attacking spells, but she does an excellent defensive shield.

As Mary approaches, she notices the man stepping out of the shadows and she hangs back. What he's able to do is impressive, and she's fairly sure that he's not using Craft. That power is native to him.

Once the woman and children are on their way, Mary hurries to catch up with the man. "I have never seen anyone do something like that," she says, her eyes flickering over his metal arm.

[The enthusiasm seems to lift some of the dour weight from his face, even if Guts couldn't quite get himself to laugh in kind.]

Give the court nobles a warnin' before you bite 'em.

[He hangs his equipment by the entrance of a stall, gets a bowl of fresh paste, and finds an animal to greet with an offered hand and quiet scratch at the neck.]

[ ... right. he keeps forgetting not everyone has seen and experienced the wonders of 2010s. ]

... so if I guess you haven't seen the electric blankets and pillows and stuff, am I correct or am I correct?

Evie looked at the girl, then at her companion, then back to the girl. The child's eyes were downcast, but every so often, glanced their way. How many children did she see like this on the Isle? How many had she been planning to put on the list for Ben to look over, before she'd accepted the offer from the Queen? The Isle kids would be taken care of, even if she weren't there. Ben knew, and, more importantly, the other VKs knew how vital it was to help the ones they could. She trusted her friends in Auradon to do Good. How could she turn away from doing Good here, where it was so badly needed?

"We can keep ourselves warm. They can't." She looked up at Guts' unreadable expression, and shook her head slightly. "How long do you think she'll survive like that if we don't help her? She might make it to nightfall. She might not. What if we come back, and she's already...." Evie shut her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't helping that the girl bore a passing resemblance to Dizzy from back home.

Evie looked up from the Far-Caster, only slightly startled by the Green-haired girl's - or was it boy's - presence. Auradon had softened her, but not so much that she didn't have a general idea of who and what was around her. She just didn't automatically assume everyone was a possible threat.

"Home isn't exactly logical either," she said with a laugh. She tapped on the chair near her, inviting the newcomer to sit. "What sort of title would you choose?"

"Yes, I do believe the two of you would have common ground. I hesitate to say you would be friends, as Sandor Clegane doesn't make friends easily if at all, but you'd certainly find a kindred spirit in him."

Sansa laughs lightly, good-natured. "But please know the knight comparison is truly a compliment. Honor takes many forms."

[Emil is here with his generously-provided bucket of nasty-smelling paste because the idea of sad animals is the most tragic he's heard in so many weeks, and it's awful (the paste), so to say he's already a little nauseous is a polite way of putting it.

He does not, in any respect at all, expect to find a girl out here pulling a dead cow apart limb by limb. What? What the hell??

He stops short some few yards in front of her, at a loss - first, gross, second, what is he supposed to do with this bucket of nasty shit now that this animal is already dead? Jesus. So. He does the only reasonable thing, putting his bucket down on the ground before he turns away and politely throws up his breakfast into the grass.]

I don't think it would win me much esteem with the nobles if I went around bitin' them anyways, but I'll definitely keep the warning in mind.

[ he is totally getting ideas from this, though. ]

[ arthur is a long way from 2010, unfortunately. ]

Hm. Didn't know you could use electricity in blankets and pillows. You wouldn't light them on fire?

[ #justturnofthecenturythings ]

The plea doesn't do much to soften his expression. He already accepted the girl didn't have good odds of survival. She was weak from the cold and devoid of the bright energy that should be in a child's eyes. Sights like that were just a simple fact of life in grim times like these. It's futile to try and save everyone.

"The houses will have more people in 'em, if that's what you're all worried about."

In the end, though, he wasn't the one who'd do the bulk of the spells. He wasn't much good at magic in general, really. Guts mostly tagged along in case there was trouble that needed to be solved with a sword. The broad shoulders beneath his cloak give Evie a noncommittal shrug. If his partner wanted to use up her jewel's power on this, he wasn't going to stop her.

"Do what you want."

"..."

Sansa gets a look over the shoulder, puzzled more than anything else. He must really be going soft if that's the first impression she got.

Then again, he wasn't plagued by the spirits of the dead quite like he was back home. He even managed to get a good night's sleep once or twice since his arrival. There was less reason to bite anyone who got remotely close. Still, it would only be fair to offer a warning.

"Don't know how long you'll keep thinkin' that if we stick around."

Alex sat in the offered chair and leaned back in it, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'd rather not have a title at all. This place is obsessed with hierarchy and sorting people into weird groups. Then they wonder why they have issues."

Uh, no, when it's made correctly that's totes not happening. As soon as I figure out how to use the elektriline here for it, I can build one for you so you can see how it works.

[ he actually means that, because... well. because there's nothing he can't make. ]

Doubt that'd be the worst thing that's happened in that palace, with all the hotheads they got.

[don't listen to Guts for sound political advice]

"I've been around much worse than you, I assure you of that. Gruff exteriors will hardly cause me to shy away," Sansa says, laughing softly. "As I said, my friend from home who bristled at the title knight was much the same."

The Hound would hate this place, she thinks. He isn't a person who is driven to altruism naturally and only in situations when it involves someone he cares about. Helping Fayura wouldn't be enough of an incentive for him, she doesn't think.

"But, of course, you're welcome to try and change my opinion."

Guts has seen enough of how men treat women to know refuting the point would just seem childish. If her home was anything like his, she would have definitely seen worse with a pretty face like that.

Still, part of him resented that he let himself be so easy to read. The cursed brand on his neck had brought down so much death and catastrophe, it was difficult to think of himself as anything but a walking disaster. Though, in that vein, what would one more death mean to the cumulative whole?

In the end, what he ends up doing is making huffing noise not unlike the disgruntled horses around them, and turning his back to keep applying more mud.

“Suit yourself. It’s your life.”

"If you're sure." There's respect in his voice as he says it though, because it's both an honorable thought, and a wise one. He could see the temptation to use magic to supplement the physical abilities of one's own body, but he also thinks it could too easily become a crutch. Looking at the way the city seems segregated, he thinks it might be even more than that besides.

But her idea has merit, he thinks. Sharing a burden always makes it easier to bear, he knows it logically even if he chooses not to always acknowledge it. But it should apply in in this just as well as lifting something heavy. And if she's more practiced at it than he, they should be able to keep going for quite some time. "We should try it, at least."

He feels a little silly raising his hands at the furniture, but keeps the expression thereof off his face. The couple they're helping is already uneasy; it wouldn't do to look as if they're making fun.

Sansa can sense it's time to change the subject and so she turns her attention to the horse instead of to Guts. She tips her head a bit, curious.

"What does the mud do, exactly? As I woefully admitted before, I know very little of horses."

Sansa lifts her hands to cast the spell. It feels foreign, to know power can ebb and flow with little more than a motion and a thought but she supposes it's something she must get used to if she's going to live among the Blood and wear one of their Jewels. She can feel the power of Bucky's Red, too, underneath her own Purple Dusk. It's much richer and darker than hers, a deeper well of power.

"It should begin to feel warm after a bit here," Sansa explains. "If I've done my bit correctly, that is. We cannot guarantee that, after all - I am very new to this particular bit of Craft."

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tdm 03

arthur morgan | red dead redemption ii

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warm;

poisoned gnature

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Vigilanden Justice

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Re: Warm Front

Re: Air Time

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gross. b

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