tdm 03

[thestewards]

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

► All TDM threads may be considered canon provided both parties agree and are accepted into the game.

► Canon threads may be redeemed for influence and reputation depending on how you solve the issue at hand or how you engage with the prompt. They also count toward AC.

► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enhance your character's abilities.

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…

Comments

[sinistral]

Vigilanden Justice;
A strange dream, a strange offer, a strange world. Nothing about this situation feels right: from the palace and its rules to the city and its politics. But — putting aside for the moment that he may in fact be crazy and that this might all be in his head anyway — Bucky decides that the best course of action is to take to the streets of the city, partly to explore and partly to just get away. Staying all day in the fantasy castle probably isn't conducive to deciding whether or not the fantasy castle is actually real. Of course, the streets come with their own problems, namely the gangs wandering through what Bucky has been told are Blood areas of the city. He still doesn't understand the politics of it all but violence is something he understands very, very intimately. The intent to do harm gives a person a certain stance, a certain nervous energy — especially when that person isn't a professional soldier. He picks it out easily, trailing the knot of young men like a shadow.

It's when they make to move on a woman with two children that he moves. The man at the front brandishes something that looks sort of like a gun and sort of not like a gun but it's clear he's the threat and ringleader both. His gang had been expecting an easy mark, maybe. What they get instead is a supersoldier moving through their ranks like nothing, disabling two of the group before they even realize he's there, making a line right for their leader. It can't even be called a fight; it's more a very efficient, very quick disarming. His flesh hand holds the young man's wrist in a firm grip. It's not tight enough to bruise, but it's very much something he won't easily break. The other hand squeezes, reducing the weapon to scrap metal. "You really don't want to hurt anyone today," he says, quiet and calm. "Do you?" It's not really a question.

The young man glares balefully at him before nodding; when Bucky releases his wrist, he and his compatriots run off. Bucky lingers for long enough to watch them disappear around a corner before turning away himself, nodding awkwardly at the thanks of the woman and her children. He hadn't done it for them specifically, but he had done it, and with little thought beforehand. That's something he needs to digest.


Warm Front;
Magic. It's magic, and Bucky's half convinced that he really is crazy, that this really is some sort of fever dream. Or worse, hallucinations from being so long out of cryo; with no memories of his own, his brain has clearly substituted flights of fancy instead. He doesn't understand any of it but apparently the jewel thing with which he'd woken is of a desirable color, enough to give him some sort of skill with this so-called Craft.

Yes, he's definitely gone crazy; there's simply no other explanation.

Regardless of his feelings on his own mental state or on the political tensions, he finds himself in the city with another person who's apparently also been brought here from somewhere else. Which is maybe sort of a little comforting unless the person and the story are both also figments of Bucky's imagination, but that train of thought promises to be much more convoluted than he wishes to consider, especially not when they enter the rougher-looking parts of Old Town. Slums don't bother him — they're a great place to find information more often than not — but information relies entirely on people who want to share. Or who can be persuaded to share but he doesn't think this calls for his particular brand of persuasion, especially considering that offering warmth seems like it can be a very strong bargaining chip.


Poisoned Gnature;
Bucky doesn't mind work. He doesn't mind hard work, doesn't mind any sort of physical labor at all, and in fact prefers to keep active. Smearing mosquito-repelling paste on livestock isn't at all what he'd imagined for work though. He understands the importance of it certainly, especially given his own metabolic needs, but he hadn't quite been prepared for the reality of the work — namely, the exact nature of the thick, sticky paste. And how it adheres to metal as readily as it does to animal hide.+ It's going to be trouble, he can tell from the start. But starving would be even more trouble. And if even this supposedly powerful queen is stepping in to see to the welfare of the farm animals, he supposes he can do no less.

Especially if she really can follow through with that promise.

It's that in particular on which he chooses to focus; that and the simplicity of the task. Fortunately the work is rather straightforward; there's no grappling with Craft, or whatever it's called, here. It's elbow grease and work ethic; those he can supply in spades. And after working his way through the stable, he's outside, attempting to clean the smelly stuff from between the plates and joints of his left hand. It's not exactly going as well as he'd like, but he's nothing if not determined.


Something Else;
Leave me a starter, or hit me up via PM or at sometimesamuse to plot! I'm open to almost anything, and I'm happy to match your style if you prefer brackets to prose. For those familiar with canon, Bucky is taken just post-The Winter Soldier so, uh, that's. A Thing.

warm front

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa isn't used to travelling in slums and she's grateful that her companion appears to be more than capable of defending them both. She schools her face to be open and kind; the last thing these people need is someone else wearing a Jewel that seems to be looking down their nose at them. She herself knew nothing of magic until arriving here some weeks ago, after all, and she thinks that makes her no different than the landen she's aiding now.

"I'm grateful you've come to help me. I'm not certain I would have been brave enough to come alone," Sansa admits. "I wanted to, though, because I think it's a bit ridiculous that men stronger than I wouldn't come here to help people just because they're a bit different. If I've the mettle to do it, they ought to have the same."

[sinistral]

They probably make quite the pair, a slip of a young woman and a man with a metal arm. Bucky's aware of the staring, though he's not sure if it's because they're together, or because of the Jewels they wear. Either way he's staying close to his companion's side, simply because he doesn't trust people at all and the temptation to act against a seemingly unarmed target may prove too irresistible for some.

"I'm not sure I'd have your skill with people." He says it cautiously as they step around a puddle. Bucky's aware that he attracts more stares than not, but at least his physical presence should be enough of a deterrent for trouble. He doesn't quite understand the nature of the political divide in these people, but he does understand the cold and exactly how unpleasant it can be. "Maybe it's not as simple as an outsider sees it."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"No, it's more difficult when you're within those castes than when you're removed from them. We both know we have our own places back home, our own positions within social strata. These people must always live with what they are, be they Blood or landen."

Sansa tips her head a bit to look at him. His appearance does deter the more violence-prone of the people, she thinks, and she's grateful for that. As to whether she's better with people - well. It's simply a matter of the weapons she has at her disposal.

"When all you have to fight with are your words, you learn how to use them very well. If I am good with people, it is only because I've been forced to be."

[sinistral]

"I suppose so." The idea of it makes sense anyway. Bucky doesn't have a place or a position in what he'd call home, but it's not exactly something he's keen to share. Better to focus instead on the situation here, since it's immediately in front of them and is the situation with which they must deal.

They probably make quite a pair, he thinks as he meets her gaze before letting his own slide away. She looks like she belongs here much more than he does at least. Bucky's aware that he's likely to stick out no matter where he goes and while it'd be easy enough in the cooler weather to hide his arm under layers, that does nothing for the coming season.

Still, he doesn't think he'd be having much success at this at all without her. "It's still a skill, and you should be proud of how you wield it."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Perhaps I should be proud of the skill but it's something I've learned simply because it must be done, not out of any desire to somehow be extraordinary at anything. Duty is more of a driving factor than desire or ambition."

Still, she cannot help but have a ghost of a smile for a moment before it fades away. It is nice to be complimented for something even if it's a skill she's developed out of necessity and not out of joy. When they approach the first house, Sansa takes the lead and introduces herself to the landen couple who lives there. They are suspicious and she believes she would be as well; why trust those who keep you oppressed? Still, after a gentle reassurance she only intends to help, they are allowed to work on the warming spells.

"It's better, I've found, if you use an object people gather around anyway. It seems less obtrusive," she says. She casts her glance around the small home before finding a small table that some couches are gathered around. "Here, let's cast the spell. You're darker than I am. Yours will last longer than mine but I can lend you my strength all the same."

[sinistral]

"And the more honorable one." Desire and ambition both have very dark sides; Bucky knows it well. "Don't discount yourself so quickly."

After all, without her Bucky probably wouldn't be making very much progress in this task at all. She just knows how to approach people and reassure them; he doubts they'd have gained entry to the home without her words and demeanor. He simply does his best to stay in her shadow and look like he's deferring to her; he'd been told that women have higher standing in this society, and perhaps adopting those sort of mannerisms will help simply for being familiar to what the people expect.

The thing with the colors doesn't make a ton of sense to him but it is what it is, and if it means that he can help these people, that's the important part of it all. Bucky moves slowly through the space, seeing the unease in the landen couple and the way their eyes linger on his left side. He chooses not to pursue it, instead focusing on the furniture. It's a good choice: central to the home, and clearly often used. "That's a good idea, keeping the intrusion minimal."

He looks at her sidelong, pitching his voice low so they're not overheard. "Are you sure? I don't mind if you want to save your strength for later."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"My strength is to serve these people," Sansa says, keeping her voice just as low. "So reserving it would be selfish. I will be measured, as to help as many people as I can, but I'm not going to waste this gift on myself when it's meant to help others. There's very little I'll do with it anyhow. I do most things manually out of habit."

Sansa doesn't think that will change any time soon. The idea of using magic to pick up her things or to find a lost object seems excessive to her and she prefers to reserve it for healing or doing things like this. If only there were a way to bring this back home; she thinks they could find a way to weaponize it against wights or at the very least, warm the castle when the winter grew too cold for even the fire to stave off the chill.

"I can shape the spell if you want to power it. Perhaps then we won't tire out so easily?"

[sinistral]

"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.

Vigilanden Justice

[arrogator]

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

Mordred's been working on dealing with the gangs too. As somebody who helped out with the power plant, she feels like she needs to try and deal with this too since it seems to have started in the wake of that. She's got her way of dealing with it and she's seen some other approaches, but nothing like how this guy disarmed him. It kind of reminds her of how Archer of Black fought unarmed, but not quite.

“And how'd you do it?”

Since the disaster's averted, she's got plenty of questions and doesn't seem to be stopping to consider that Bucky might not want to answer them.

hahaha oh I hadn't realized how much I missed these two

[sinistral]

He'd expected that his actions would draw stares or comments. Any intervention would, he thinks, but doubly so a man moving the way he moves. He definitely prefers to stay out of sight rather than in it but it had been a situation that couldn't wait. And now he'll just have to deal with the consequences.

Namely, the woman striding over to him looking like she very much wants something. Has he seen her before? Possibly. But he's seen a lot of people who he's never met before lately, so there's no telling for sure.

"Training," he says, trying to both brush off the question and brush her off. Whether she'll let it or him go, though, that's another matter. "A lot of training."

same, I'm really glad I can throw her at your Bucky again!

[arrogator]

Training? Yeah, okay. That's an answer, she guesses. But not one she's willing to accept. After all, everybody she's met usually has some sort of training, by some legendary so and so or there's some sort of epic story involved. Kind of annoying actually, everybody's a big deal and she or her Master (usually her Master) has to keep track of exactly how much of a big deal or why or fighting them turns into a complete shitshow (okay, it might even with keeping track of it, but trying to remember things is at least an attempt at mitigating that).

“Yeah, but what kind?”

She's nosy about this. Never mind that she was super secretive before becoming a Servant. That's not important when she sees some sort of cool way of fighting somebody. Or stopping a fight, that's cool too.

it might not be too healthy for the town given their tendency for property damage... #sorrynotsorry

[sinistral]

Just his luck to attract the attention of a persistent person, isn't it? Then again given the circumstances, he'd rather that the persistence come from a questioning onlooker than from the group of attackers. They haven't bothered trying to slink back since they'd run off, and if the price is having to deal with some questions, well, there are certainly worse things.

Right?

"Why do you want to know?" He knows it's not natural, what he can do. He knows that there are very few people who could come close — though he's not sure that still applies in this place. Even so, she seems very eager to know, and he's not sure that he's entirely comfortable with it.

it'll be fine

[arrogator]

Let her give a very honest answer. It's also kind of a silly one, but hey, it's the truth.

“Because it looked cool, and I haven't seen anything like that before.”

That's not much of an answer, so she'll provide a little more.

“Way I've seen it and done it, you either knock the weapon out of their hand or disarming's a little more permanent.”

Not that she really has a problem with that, and she's not going to throw her entire approach out the window to try and pick something new up. In fact, if those guys try and come back, she'll happily show how she deals with things, but it just seems like something to keep in mind. If she's going to be a king someday, maybe a less brutal way of disarming people would be a good thing to try and introduce. Or something like that, honestly, she's mostly here for the “it looked cool” part of her reasoning.

this place doesn't really need intact walls anyway

[sinistral]

"He's just a dumb kid. Didn't need a permanent injury." Bucky could have disarmed him, in the quite literal sense of the word. It seemed unnecessary.

But he is rethinking having intervened thus where people could see. Or at least, where one particularly, stubbornly interested person could see. He makes a mental note to do more observation of the fighting lessons at the palace; it might be worth adapting his own style to blend in more. "Sometimes you want your target alive and mostly unharmed. That's all."

Bucky, normal people don't refer to others as targets.

what good would those be

[arrogator]

“Yeah? Never had to do a lot of that.”

Usually taking a target alive back then meant prisoners and she...really didn't do a lot of that. Some of the others did, probably. But not her. And she doesn't even raise an eyebrow at the use of the word targets because what are normal people? She's never been one of those. She's never hung around any of those either.

“Seems pretty effective though. And I guess that works, that guy's not going to forget it. And probably be relieved later on that you didn't maim him or anything like that.”

exactly my point

[sinistral]

"Wasn't my primary function."

Which slips out before he means it to, but the conversation is casual in a way he hadn't been expecting, the questions being so matter-of-fact and following a different path than he thought that the answer simply comes naturally.

"It's pressure points and speed," he offers finally. "If he's grateful, maybe it'll keep him from attacking an unarmed person."

Or not, considering the tensions in the city, but it's a nice thought.

Vigilanden Justice

[thequitecontrary]

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.

[sinistral]

There's nothing for it except to interrupt the altercation. Fortunately he's able to do so without seriously harming anyone; he tries not to do that anymore. It would've been easier to simply kill them but though Bucky doesn't really understand the nuances of the political landscape here, he is trying not to make that his default course of action. He doesn't have to live that sort of life anymore, he thinks.

He's not unaware of being approached, but decides to let it happen. He's pretty sure he can slip away from her at a moment's notice; she doesn't move like anything other than a normal person. Bucky's not even sure why he's allowing the interaction, save that he does need information about this place and there's something to be gained in firsthand interactions.

"There is no one like me." Not the full truth, but not entirely a lie either. And it's certainly truthful enough for this place, he thinks, watching the way her eyes linger on his arm. It's not the first look it's gotten and he doubts it'll be the last either.

[thequitecontrary]

Mary's still trying to learn such nuances herself. Deciding not to kill anyone was a good idea on Bucky's part though. In general, Mary would like to hope that the Strangers are not adding to the violence that is plaguing this land.

"So I see," she replies. Her eyes linger on the metal arm for a second longer before looking away, because it's not polite to stare, even if she's never seen any prosthetic function in the way that this one does. "Are you human?" Mary shakes her head. "Forgive me. That is a rude question. It's only that some people here are not human."

And he displays extra-human abilities.

[sinistral]

Bucky starts walking again, but with a slower pace and shorter stride than his usual, out of deference for the differences in their height.

"I'm human." He glances at her again, out of the corner of his eye. Not many people would have apologized for such a question; at least, not many that he's met. It's curious. "Mostly human. I think you can guess which part of me isn't."

It's a poor attempt at a joke maybe, but there's no hiding his arm, at least not until (and unless) he chooses to look into new clothing. But that's certainly not an immediate concern and as such he's put it aside.

[thequitecontrary]

She can indeed, though the rest of him is human. So it is a prosthetic then. All that she can surmise is that if this man is from her world, he must be from far in the future.

Mary looks up at him as they walk together. "It is incredible craftsmanship," she compliments. "Does the arm give you strength or does the strength come from you and is used through the arm?"

[sinistral]

The compliments, the conversation, are actually a little uncomfortable for him. He does his best to keep it from his face though, because he is walking around with the arm showing; questions are going to be natural.

"My strength is my own," he finally says, after some debate on how to answer. "My arm is just a tool."

It's much more than that to him, but that's something he's only really trying to define and compartmentalize for himself.

[thequitecontrary]

So the arm isn't the source of his strength. She finds that interesting. His strength may be his own, but it's clearly greater than that of an average human.

"I did not think you were using Craft," Mary says, "unless you were already an experienced practitioner." His abilities flowed too naturally. "I came here with no such prior abilities and so I am still learning how to use my jewel. So far, I'm much better at defensive actions than offensive ones."

At this point, Mary offers him her hand in greeting. "My name is Lady Mary Crawley."

[sinistral]

"I'm a soldier," he replies. It's a good enough explanation as any, and one that he doesn't think is going to draw too many other questions. He's been told that using the Jewel can enhance what he can already do, but that's worrisome as well. He'd been a very effective, very deadly operative before coming here. Being given this augment? Not the most comfortable thought. "I've had a lot of training."

He takes the hand she offers in a firm handshake, one that doesn't linger. "Bucky Barnes."