WEEK THREE

[lesmodsalouette]

WEEK THREE

28 Guests

You awaken smothered in wonderfully soft blankets. If you are lucky, there is a warm body next to you, but... those are becoming shorter and shorter in supply, aren't they?

It's Monday at Château Ambregris, and you have just arrived here. Whatever clothes you are wearing, whatever injuries you are sporting... They are once again accurate to how you were before this tale began. Whether this leaves you with any urgent matters to take care of or relieved of ailing you had contracted in the 'last' week, the gong of the numerous clocks chimes out indifferently to the hour. Gone is the urgent summons of the past two weeks, with no Witch to greet you.

Rise and shine, and face your 'first' day in your 'new' home! And though you may now think yourself quite familiar with it, maybe another look around wouldn't hurt?

TIME LOOP:

-Characters wake up with the clothes they had with them at their canon point, like in the intro log.
-The state of their bodies is exactly the same as it was on the intro log (for better or worse).
-Any items they accumulated last week are also reset (sorry you'll need to build up your weapon cache again), except items that were given out as event rewards. Please note that the item uses are not reset.

LOCATIONS UPDATED:
- library, gardens
- mud bath → aquarium
- menagerie → photography studio
- grotto → greenhouse

WEEKLY EFFECT

This week every character will have a spirit animal that follows them around like a familiar. The choice of animal is up to you (natural or supernatural), but it should represent them in some way. The animal is restricted in size to that of a large dog and is incorporeal, though it can interact with other spirit animals. As the animal is a representation of their heart and inner self, it might be better at expressing itself than it's owner.

Yes, this is basically daemons. This palace clearly needs more animals for emotional support!

(OOC: Murder proposals and counter proposals are open! )

MONDAY • TUESDAY • WEDNESDAY • THURSDAY

Locations Proposals PCS Curfew Witch Contact Main Nav

Comments

[distain]

[They had a conversation similar to that before about love. She has very little time in the world, and he has so much of it. They're opposites in many ways.

But in this, they are similar. Andrew shakes her head; her eyes focus tightly on the text without seeing.]

No. No one has ever told me when I was born. Because it's the day my mother died, I don't think my father wanted me to have it for myself.

[coldseep]

... So you've never celebrated a birthday?

( There's no intonation of surprise or pity; simply clarification if that is the natural conclusion. )

[distain]

That's right. Herta made me socks a few times at Christmas, but it's been a long time since that, too. They all disappeared one day. I hadn't received another gift until I was here.

[She doesn't sound particularly pitiful or wistful, though the magpie flaps down from where it's been poking around paintings trying to recognize itself and wanders over to the ottoman.

She does sound a bit lonely, but in this case, it's of her own making.]

[coldseep]

( Hwylryn's dragon quietly orbits around him, as if swimming in the air. Its demeanor feels a little wild - a thing that should not necessarily be approached, but - not tense. Not taut. )

... You live like a caged bird.

( A summation of their past conversations, and this. He glances down at her magpie as it wanders. )

What do you intend to do when you leave here?

[distain]

[Andrew tilts her head demurely, an echo of the obedient girl she grew up as reflected in the gesture.

She can't deny that. She has lived in a dark and hollow place her entire life with only one comfort. There is something about it that might make her a caged wild animal of her own; she's guarded and protective of herself and acted rashly in a fit, and it's difficult to think outside of walls she's never scaled.]

I'm to be married. But before I go to my wedding, I will open the bars and show someone the beautiful sky.

[So no matter how sorry or set back she feels...she will persist.] What does an ideal sky look like to you, Hwylryn?

[coldseep]

( Ah. Her beloved, he wonders.

A pause, as he seems to consider this. )

... Any sky I view with someone I love, I think.

( Love, by any definition. )

Does it differ for you?

[distain]

[She smiles a little, a real one, though she also seems to be several miles away at the time. The magpie ducks itself beneath an ottoman, either hiding or searching for something.]

That's a good answer. I think so, too, but... an open sky. It must be the kind you can look at and know where you are or find your way home.

[coldseep]

( He makes an ambiguous sound. )

... What is home, to you?

( He says this like he isn't sure, himself. )

[distain]

[He's asking the wrong person.

Andrew can't help but feel a little uncomfortable with the vulnerability that keeps getting peeled away and poked with this conversation. She doesn't have a home to speak of, just a person that's always felt like it.]

Why do you think you need stars to show you the way? That must be why I wanted to watch them before, just to wonder if she was looking at them on the other side.

[Too bad none of the constellations will ever match.]