tdm 05

[thestewards]

Though all the scars are healing
you’re always biting back
You know the struggle's real
I lie down then you attack

► 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.

THE WAREHOUSE JOB
Master Tinker Mari is in a tizzy. Last night, supplies from her personal warehouse in Wall Town went missing. And not just any supplies. These supplies were prototype items fashioned for a project she’s working on for Grand Master Niall.

Having left multiple messages on Draega’s far-caster network, she’s finally gotten you to help her. She asks you to investigate the warehouse and track down her missing supplies. By the way, don’t try to crack the boxes. They’re lined with lead to protect you from some of the dangerous, uh, stuff (as she says) inside.

At the warehouse, you find the lock on the back door has been picked. From the door, you can see that no windows look into the alley, so no one could have seen the culprit. Inside the warehouse, you discover a floor covered in a white powder, but none of it has been disturbed except where the door swung inward. On the floor, an area clean of powder reveals where the boxes once stood. They could not have been dragged out of the warehouse. If they had, the powder would have been disturbed. Near the back wall, hidden by shadow, you discover a little glob of silt. Someone tracked this in from the docks.

Landens and Blood worked together to steal these items, and you suspect mercenaries are responsible. Do you go to the docks to investigate, or do you turn this information over to the Guilds and let them deal with this problem on their own? No one would blame you for the latter: if landens and Blood are working together, there are certainly muters on the mercenary ship where Mari’s supplies have been taken. Dare you take matters of the law into your own hands?


WILD WILD MEN
It’s nearly dusk. Pink and blue rays from the sun pierce a haze of sand on the horizon, obscuring the sunset and painting the sky with pastels. The world seems blurry and depth becomes an illusion. You know to be wary: this is the time when the wildmen come out of the hills to the south and west of Draega.

You’re standing guard at a farm where the spring planting is just mature enough that it could be pulled in. This is a dangerous time for the farmers. They can’t defend themselves against the wildmen that raid their fields, and there aren’t enough guards from the Queen’s First Circle to protect everyone.

A scream comes from the hills. It echoes through the still, night air. Wildmen dressed in rags and furs appear on the plains before you, their sight shields dropping. None of them wear a Jewel darker than Summer-sky, but they are all wild-eyed with rage and hunger. Subdue them however you can, but be sure to protect the fields at your back.


SPRING CLEANING
After the madness of the Black Widow coven invading Draega, Lady Fayura has asked Strangers to help weave cleansing webs. Just as there are webs that ensnare and damage the mind, there are webs that heal them, too.

She invites Strangers who have left the Residence to come spend the morning in her private garden, where she teaches them how to weave cleansing webs. These are simpler webs, built like spirals that trap oppressive psychic energy and purifies the air, removing those dark feelings. As she teaches you, she explains that the landens and slums were hit the hardest by the coven’s attack and that the most psychic damage was done in the slums and the area around the Guilds.

You could, she suggests, leave your cleansing webs there, but if you do, you can expect resistance. Strangers wear Jewels, and they will be viewed with distrust and wariness in the slums especially. The Guilds, she says, insist they can take care of their own, but this kind of psychic damage requires a web to help repair it.

The Blood in River East clamor for cleansing webs. Once, there were many more Black Widows, but that caste was nearly wiped out in the Cataclysm. There are few Black Widows among the Blood in River East who can do what Fayura teaches the Strangers, and the Blood are particularly susceptible to lingering psychic malevolence. If the effects of the webs aren’t removed, the Blood will twist and become even more dangerous than they already are. At least they won’t try to chase the Strangers out of River East.

But who you help is up to you. The choice is yours, Stranger.


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.] I admit: I'm a bit confused. Can anyone learn how to be a Black Widow?

[Aren's boyish voice is cheerful and amused.] Anyone can learn how to weave a tangled web. Indeed, Healers weave webs to make their healing more effective. Even though you can learn the Craft, that will never make you a Black Widow. You won't spontaneously manifest a snake tooth, for example!

[Evandra:] Well, that's a relief! We certainly don't need more chance encounters that leave us poisoned!

[Aren:] Quite so, Evandra! And recovering from a Black Widow's venom is a grueling process. There are few things more deadly.

[Evandra:] Let's take a minute to discuss antivenin and how our listeners can brew their own at home.

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.] …plenty of sun over the next few days. It's the perfect time for taking in the spring harvest. With all this sun, consider purchasing Sun Shield, a new cream produced by the Medico and Crafter Guilds to protect your skin from…

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.] News from the Queen's Court suggests that we'll soon know who attacked the city two weeks ago.

[Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.] That’s right, Garret. The Strangers have been investigating the Black Widow coven responsible for breaking a young witch and placing malicious tangled webs throughout the city.

[Garret:] A handful of suspects are being held in the Queen's Residence as deliberations take place. The Strangers…

Comments

jaime lannister | game of thrones

[goldfinger]

THE WAREHOUSE JOB

Jaime doesn't imagine himself particularly smart. Not really. Having just gotten here a few days prior with this bizarre jewel (that is, indeed, burning a hole in his pocket-- he doesn't know what else to do with it yet), the only reason he checks the warehouse out is because going too long with nothing to do will drive him mad.

He stands on the clean space on the floor where the door's upset the powder. He stares at the one area in the middle where the boxes had been. There are no footprints, no drag marks, nothing of the sort that suggests physical use... and then he remembers, his left hand going into his pocket to brush over the green jewel there, that there is magic in this gods forsaken land.

But how could the magic have been used? Jaime doesn't know how to use his own, so he can't really imagine anything. (And it's starting to show, in that he feels hungry and tired all the time, but so far he's doing well enough to pretend none of that is happening.)

He steps onto the powder, caring little for upsetting it as he makes his way to the blank space. Jaime crouches in front of it, frowning. Touching the clean space gleans nothing, so maybe...

The sound of footsteps has his head whirling around, and immediately he gets to his feet with his left hand tugging his sword out of its sheathe. He points it in the direction of the door.

Tone loud and commanding, he calls, "Who goes there?"

WILD WILD MEN

It's bewildering how much these "wild men" remind him of the Dothraki army. Though Jaime reels back in surprise when they appear (he's not used to the concept of magic, still), his expression hardens like a warrior's and he draws his sword, uncertain whether he's being brave or being foolish.

"Stay here!" he says to the person at his side, running in to charge, and-- made even more obvious by the darkness around them-- Jaime's sword shines the slightest bit, even without the moonlight filtering down on top of it.

The real shock is when he slashes at the first man (clumsily, of course) and the slash seems to create some green crescent in its wake: thin, yes, and not able to reach very far, but it cuts through three other men before it disappears into the air. Jaime starts, stunned for all of a moment, but another man swings at him and he lifts his right arm and hears the dull thud of metal against metal--

Gods, where in seven hells did that green shield come from!?

While some men go to attack him, however, the others run towards the person he left behind. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to split up.

SPRING CLEANING

Jaime is terrible at this. Absolutely terrible. He focuses, and his jewel continues to be weighty and annoying in his pocket, and no matter what he does he's incapable of making a web that lasts. This feels like his millionth attempt, and as he looks to his side where other Strangers seem to be making the webs with no issue, irritation and shame burn hot like twin swords stabbed into his belly.

"Blast," he mutters, lifting his arms to try again. Focus. He has to focus. He makes the first spiral, a big and clumsy curve, and then another, and another...

And then, unbidden, a brief thought of worry flits in his mind, and the forming spiral fades away with it.

"Fuck!"

WILDCARD

[ Like it says! HMU with a different starter or PM me if you want to figure something out. I'm open! ]

nero // devil may cry

[sassery]

THE WAREHOUSE JOB.

[Muters? Mercenaries? Blood and landen working together? Please, as if Nero's scared of the thought of them trying to go against him. He's fought bigger and probably a lot worse back home; demons and humans combined. Jewel or not, Craft or not, he's pretty sure the Guild is going to get into a lot more trouble if he leaves it to them. And honestly, the last thing he wants is more people getting hurt. Better to leave it to the people who can take care of themselves and leave others out of it.

Nero stands from where he is, avoiding touching the powder on the floor, fingers on the robotic arm, a Devil Breaker, on his right side curling inwards. Obviously they've got a job to do, and the sooner they do it, the sooner this Tinker Mari can get out of his hair.]

C'mon, let's go.

[He's fully expecting his partner to go with him. Someone please stop him or talk to him before he does something stupid.]

WILD WILD MEN.

[Protecting people has always been a thing for him, and fighting demons or would-be demons? Even more so. But protecting a field is different, having to focus on much more than one person, or even a few people at a time. It provides a challenge for him though, and honestly, as long as the fighting is good, he doesn't complain much. Even as the sun sets, it's a brief reminder of home and Fortuna, and of the person who's waiting for him to return.

Fuck, he misses Kyrie. How long are they going to need him here?

His thoughts are interrupted as the howl breaks across the night sky, every nerve on the back of his neck standing straight up. When the men come into view, all he can do is scowl, eyes going to their jewels before reaching for Red Queen's handle, fingers tightening around it pre-emptively.

He doesn't have to wait long.]

Shit- [One of the wild men lunges at him, Nero sweeping his sword forward, opal shining for a split second in the dark before his Devil Breaker splits open, electricity forcing its way out in the shape of a claw and blasting his opponent back. Another takes advantage of the moment and comes for him, weapon out and aiming for his throat. It's parried by Nero's blade, and he moves out of the way of another enemy by sliding his feet over just in time, sending the attacker flying.

All in all, it's not bad, but he can't stop all of them. There's too many all together, meaning some are running past him to try and get to the fields and grab the harvest.]

Hey! [Yeah, he's just yelling casually while this is going on, no big deal.] Might want to focus on cleanup duty!

SPRING CLEANING.

[The whole meeting with Lady Fayura is really... weird, to him. Royalty isn't something he honestly is used to- they had something like it in Fortuna, but Sanctus was a leader of a congregation, a group. It was more a cult than actually leading a kingdom. Still, she's talking about webs, and with the recent breaking of that one witch, Nero doesn't mind being brought in to help.

...Oh. Wait. He's actually supposed to make one of these things? Not just deliver them? Fuck.

He's just going to be off in his own space here, a scowl on his face as the webs continuously reform and break, his temper easily getting the better of him. The spirals are muddled, swirling opposite each other, pulling too tight; his mind isn't clear enough to focus on this whole thing and it shows. This is stupid, this entire thing is so stupid, and he sighs loudly in annoyance, probably disturbing whoever else is nearby him. Not that he's really paying attention right now, so you may want to address that.]

WILDCARD.

[HMU with whatever you've got, I'll roll with it!]

Kaoru Seta | Bang Dream! Girls Band Party

[ex_exitpursuedbyabear875]

THE WAREHOUSE JOB
Normally, Kaoru wouldn't know what to do in a situation like this. Solving mysteries? Something like this was out of her comfort zone: she was an actress and a guitarist, not a detective! Still, Miss Mari that she would help find these dastardly criminals, so she would do it...somehow. Perhaps if she drew upon the words and actions of the Great Detective himself, she could be able to figure this out? Yes...what would Sherlock Holmes do to solve this mystery? Well, he would take note of the area.

She walks further in, pausing in the center of the warehouse. Hand to her chin in thought, Kaoru looks around, looks down at the ground, turns back towards her partner...then spots her footprints. Ah ha!

"Elementary, my dear Watson," she says, with a theatrical gesture towards the boxes' former location. "Someone like us must have taken them! After all, a normal person would have had to drag the box and disturb the powder."

Kaoru looks far too proud of herself like she cracked the case...despite the fact that this doesn't tell anyone just where the boxes went.

SPRING CLEANING
It is very easy to clear one's mind when one is a goddamn idiot. Besides, something like this would make Lady Fayura happy...and Kaoru was never one to ignore one of her little kitten's bouts of sadness, even if said little kitten was actually technically older than her. And so, she listens intently as Fayura explains how to make the web and describes some of the places where it might be best put.

Granted, Kaoru's eyes glaze over at certain points and some of those terms are undoubtedly flying over her head. But she's paying attention and trying her hardest to weave a good web as she does so. Her spirals are shaky, but it's definitely the start of a working cleansing web.

"I believe we should start spreading the webs in the slums first. If they were hurt the most, then it is our job...nay, our duty to help those who cannot help themselves. After all, are they not our fellow man? If we prick them, do they not bleed?"

Her web dissipates as she strikes an over-dramatic pose. This is the second time theatrical posing has ruined one of her cleansing webs but Kaoru hasn't noticed that yet.

WILDCARD
[ Cliff notes: Kaoru is a 17 year old idiot who's annoyingly princely and way too over-dramatic, but she's a caring girl and a good egg underneath all the Extra. HMU with a different starter or PM me if you want something different! ]

Dorian Gray | CODG

[brushoff]

WILD WILD MEN. cw: blood, body horror.
Dorian had signed up to protect the fields because it sounded interesting. He was regretting that. Granted, he regretted it the moment he saw that the field was just a field and not some sort of fun magitech nonsense like he's seen throughout the city. But he's definitely regretting it the moment the wildmen arrive.

Dorian's fighting them off with a combination of mediocre sword skills and mediocre magic. But his magic isn't the best and his fighting skills definitely aren't the best.

"I need a little help here! I—" But Dorian's words get cut off as a burst of summer-sky magic from one of the wildmen explodes in his face. It's a disgusting sight as Dorian's skin burns and crackles from the magical energy...but it's an equally disgusting sight as the skin on his face starts knitting itself back together, healing itself up at an inhuman rate.

Needless to say, the wildman fighting him is surprised by this turn of events. And Dorian will gladly take advantage of that surprise to shoot off a burst of opal magical energy into the wildman's face. But healing takes as much energy as magic does and Dorian finds himself staggering backwards, obviously weakened. Little help, guys?

SPRING CLEANING
Ostensibly Dorian is helping. In reality, he's slacking off. He's been watching people for the past few minutes instead of actually practicing the webs. This world is interesting and the magic is interesting, but the people are the most interesting of them all. Especially the transplants like he is.

So, Dorian's people-watching. And he's not being all that subtle about it either, as his attention goes from Stranger to Stranger. When someone actually calls him out on that or gives him a look (or Look), he'll flash them a devil-may-care sort of smile. Guilty as charged. Why not lean into it?

"Terribly sorry," Dorian says, in a tone of voice that implies he's not sorry in the slightest. "But I'm white rank. Considering that my webs are most likely going to be ineffective, wouldn't it be better if I studied before giving it a try?"

If he's stuck with this damn color, the least he can do is find a way to make use of it and slink out of actually working.

WILDCARD
[ Trying out a few different colors to see which one I want to stick with. and cliff notes! Dorian Gray is that Dorian Gray, but he didn't die and instead had a lot of fun adventures in a audio drama. He's selfish, hedonistic, petty, and has an insanely bonkers healing factor that's getting nerfed for the game. HMU over pm or toss up a different starter yourself! ]

Cassandra Pentaghast | Dragon Age: Inquisition

[bearbane]

The Warehouse Job (Summer-sky)
The door kicks up a small cloud of white powder as it scrapes open, and Cassandra only justs manages to throttle the reflex to inhale in surprise. She holds her breath as the powder settles, tension shifting her posture from 'straight-backed' to 'human statue', and only then steps into the wedge of floor that has been swept clean by the door's opening. One hand rests on the pommel of her sword, and her gaze sweeps the room, noting the shadows clinging to the corners and the blind spots created by the remaning stacks of crates, more like she's expecting an ambush than engaging in an investigation. Which, given just how light a jewel she wears, might make her decision to enter first somewhat imprudent.

Finally, her gaze focuses on the empty spaces where the missing crates once sat, edges blurred ever so slightly where the breeze from the door has pushed some of the powder inward. Her eyes narrow sightly, and she frowns, the expression taking her features from merely sharp to hard.

"I was under the impression that these Guilds had artifacts that dampened magic."

Wild Wild Men (Green)
The sight shields drop, and Cassandra sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth as she surveys the Wildmen before her, noting the rage in their expressions, and the harsh angles of muscle and bone beneath their furs. It's the latter that will make them dangerous, she decides - rage can be doused by fear, but starvation means desperation, means these men will not surrender, because surrender will only bring a slower, harder death.

And given that choice of deaths, wouldn't it make sense for this visible group of men to sacrifice themselves in a distraction, in order to allow their kin to circle around the mere pair of defenders and take what they could under the veil of invisibility? Not an honourable tactic, certainly, but one more likely to ensure their tribe's survival than an all out frontal assault.

Still, the visible forces can't exactly be ignored in search of possible invisible reinforcements, and so she asks of her partner for the night, over her shoulder, "How skilled are you at shielding with this Craft?"

Spring Cleaning (either)
a) Though she's aware of several of her fellow strangers shifting restlessly nearby, Cassandra has little problem stilling her mind, summoning the deep well of focus, of faith, forged by her training. No, the problem comes when she attempts to externalize that calm. She's no mage, trained from youth to grasp the stuff of the Fade and weave it into influence on the waking world - no, insofar as her training dealt with magic, it dealt with blocking it or snuffing it out.

The first three attempts are entirely fruitless, producing nothing more than a brief shimmer of light and a sense of absence that remains mercifully confined to her frame. The fourth, she gets two turns around the spiral before the more familiar patterns reassert themselves, and her web seems to implode in another shimmer and the scent of ozone on the air, and it will be a small miracle if the effect doesn't spill over onto her nearest neighbour, should they be unfortunate enough to wear a Jewel lighter than her own.

She hisses something halfway under her breath, and though the curse is in her mother tongue, the vehemence behind it makes her sentiments abundantly clear.

b) It takes some time, but eventually, she gets the hang of the webs, and weaves as many as she can before her temples start throbbing with the drain on her energy - or her fingers begin cramping with the repetitive motions required to weave the things. And once the preparations are done, the part she still considers the real work can begin.

Some of the tension slowly eases from the set of her shoulders as she strides along the street, though each step carries her closer to the slums, without a pause to check if her assigned partner has a different opinion on where they should start. To Cassandra, it's the obvious choice - these people were hurt the worst, have the least protection, and are the least likely to be able to offer payment to lure in aid. And if the slums are also the most dangerous choice, well. Physical danger is an old friend, and an honest fight would be far less disconcerting than unfamiliar magic.

Air Time
[Cassandra has, for the most part, ignored her own Far-caster as a slightly-unnerving and largely useless bit of absurdity, but the mention of poison snags her attention, and she pauses to listen a moment longer - be it to a broadcast playing from an empty shop front, or another Stranger listening to their device over a meal.

At the suggestion of home-made antivenin, however, she shakes her head, grimacing slightly.]

Tch. That has all the makings of a disaster waiting to happen.

lara croft | tomb raider

[tombing]

0 0 1 ¬ THE WAREHOUSE JOB

[ lara doesn't know what she's doing here -- not really. she's in a world full of magic when she's always been sure that that kind of thing doesn't exist, trusting a queen to bring her father back when that should be impossible and is probably going to have dire consequences in some way because isn't that how it always goes?

lara's supposed to be better, her father raised her to be better -- but she's lived years without him and it hurt. if there's a chance? she'll take it.

so here she is. helping isn't a hardship. investigating isn't a hardship, either: she likes puzzles, likes figuring things out. this isn't much of a puzzle: mercenaries, coming from the docks. probably going back to the docks, too. she could just report this. or she could go to the docks herself.

three guesses what it'll be. still, she's not so reckless as to want to go at it entirely alone. so: ]

Hey. You busy?

[ does she know you? maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. ]

0 0 2 ¬ SPRING CLEANING

[ lara can't say she understands this -- but the instructions are easy enough to follow and she learns how to spin these simple webs with others in the gardens. it reminds her a little of one of the nannies she's had who'd knit sometimes, except the knitting didn't help anyone feel relaxed except for janine herself.

(if this works as it seems to -- her world could benefit from this. she could've benefitted, too, after her father's disappearance. that thought is pushed far down.) ]

Where are you going to leave yours?

0 0 3 ¬ WILDCARD

[ hit me up with another starter if you'd like. surely there are pubs or bars, so feel free to run into lara at one of those. or... network(-equivalent) stuff? idk what i'm doing ]