Mesdames et Messieurs, Voilà, C'est Vous

[lesmodsalouette]

Bievenue

You're wrapped in a soothing, all-encompassing darkness.

Well, perhaps not perfectly all-encompassing -- you can see some slivers of light here and there, just enough to realize that your current space is literally wrapped in something, and that you are a highly customized burrito at the mercy of an entirely too fluffy bed and set of blankets. Moreover: you are definitely not alone.

Depending upon the contents of your bed (two of you, waking up dressed exactly in what you wore last you remember back where each of you came from, in the exact same state as those last moments no matter how illogical or disjointed), it may not be comfortable or feasible to stay cocooned up for much longer. There's a low, muted GONG, GONGG coming from not far away, your bed creaks like a beleaguered ship in an unannounced storm, and it is joined by even more noises of movement beyond the bed canopy as you try to take stock of where you are.

Eventually, you either fall out of bed or drag yourself into this world: your new and strangely crowded personal rooms, the clock insistently sounding out the hour, and the halls and heraldry of the venerable Château Ambregris -- a lavishly decorated and fully furnished version of a more-or-less authentic French castle (assuming you know what France or a castle are).

Left to your own devices for the moment, you may find it helpful to explore the castle for your own purposes, check out the suspicious statues and personalized plaques in the Promenade of Reflexion, or perhaps to try to get to the bottom of the mysterious and frankly alarming amount of bread piled up in front of the place settings in the Banquet Hall. (Were you thinking of escaping? Any attempts to leave the property will be met with no forward progress at all, treadmill style). There's just about every kind of loaf, roll, boule, baguette, croissant or even animal-shaped bread you can think of stacked in baskets. There's absolutely nothing else save for plain bread, but at least you won't starve.

[OOC: Welcome to Château Ambregris, a perfectly normal castle receiving perfectly normal guests. Feel free to ask any questions in discord! The NPC Meet & Greet will be later today, March 8 at 6 PM EST/3 PM PST.]

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[frostlight]

[Maybe it's a mortal thing.]

You think we're being held for ransom?

[distain]

[She gestures to their very grand surroundings. It isn't about money, clearly. However...]

Of the political kind, maybe... What else would anyone want with me? I've yet to even debut.

[frostlight]

[What is debuting.]

I'd expected this to be politically motivated, but what does that have to do with you and me?

[As far as she knows, there's nothing tying them together, yet here they are.]

[distain]

[Presuming they're near Tia's plaque since that's where she'd get to look disappointed about her name...]

Your inheritance might have something to do with it... unless this information is somehow incorrect?

[How does a woman become a Lord, anyway? Perhaps it is all a lie. (We'll unpack the spirit stuff later.)]

[frostlight]

[How do this and that add up . . . ]

The only inheritance I have is my power. They won't get that through a ransom.

[Her frown isn't directed at Andrew, but at the audacity of the nobles who might even think such a thing.]

[distain]

No? I'd think they could negotiate for your power. Anything can be handed over.

[She's thinking, of course, of the political kind.]

Maybe I'm wrong... but I can think of nothing else anyone would want from me.

[frostlight]

Are there multiple culprits . . . ?

[And if so, why? What's the point of putting someone like herself with Andrew? They're only vaguely alike on the surface.]

[distain]

Working together with different objectives?

[Her mouth forms a thoughtful line. It sounds absurd, but strange bedfellows must share extreme goals.]

I find it strange, too, that we haven't been threatened.

[frostlight]

[She huffs.]

As if those halfwits could ever threaten me . . . If that's what this is, I'll put them in their place for good this time.

[distain]

[Grace, weirdly enough, chuckles at that huffiness. It seems so small but so familiar. She gets offended like a noble... Perhaps she really is a Future Lord.]

Have you been threatened before? For being a... Spirit? A sort of fairy?

[frostlight]

I'm not a fairy.

[She says this plainly and without bite, though the reminder of another time at the question of threats twitches an eyebrow.]

They tried, but their threats always turn up empty in the end. Their mistake was to think I'd be afraid of them in the first place.

[distain]

[Added to the conversation with Witch later on in the day, Andrew will be 2 for 2 in trying to confirm the existence of fairies. Of course she was right, and silly things like that don't really exist.

It's the second part of the answer that really gets her attention.] You really aren't afraid, even now?

[frostlight]

[Andrew is so right.]

Why should I be? I have no reason to be intimidated.

[distain]

[That seems to resonate with her, whatever the reason.]

Do you have a plan? I suppose since you were already hiding your identity, you might have cooked one up.

[Don't mind the slight callout about something she otherwise acted like she accepted without question ten minutes ago.]

[frostlight]

[Andrew isn't a noble from Eldepel. Tia doesn't bat an eye at the comment.]

I'll wait for an explanation. Isn't that what humans like to do? Until then, I'll be taking a look around this place.

[distain]

Is it? [She's still letting it sink in that this woman isn't human at all, but the unraveling of her own madness is a topic she'd rather dissect on her own. She has no problem with going their separate ways now.]

Then, as a human myself, I suppose I'll "wait" as well. It's a big place; you have plenty to look at.