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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[smdr]

[ yeah, she got it. jinx tried not to think about it too hard, it makes something itch, and that makes it worse. arms crossed, her nails on her right hand begin to lightly scratch on her own skin. ]

Uh huh.

[ unsaid: siffrin. unsaid: what if the caterpillar doesn't turn into a butterfly, but a moth, or a venomous spider, and that young lady— ]

So, One Siff, whoever that Mira lady is... you believe in that stuff? [ a small chuckle. ] D'uh, right? You made a whole thing about it.

[ the show, she means. she means the show. ]

[siffriend]

Oh, no. I don't. But, um... it's what's practiced in Vaugarde, so I'm pretty surrounded by it right now. Mira, Isa, and Bonnie all do though. Since they're from Vaugarde. I'm not.

[ It's just one of those things. A small shouldered shrug. ]

It was just the first thing that came to mind.

[ (You miss them already.) ]

[smdr]

You just said a whole lot of words.

[ but, like, she gets it. no idea where vanguard? vaugarde??? is, but it's not like jinx has much of an interest in things outside of her small, lopsided orbit. hard enough keeping what's there in order... though that isn't really an issue anymore.

... okay, time to look around at the mess of stuff on stage while she yaps, instead of standing there with an itch to fidget. ]

Practiced makes changing sound like some spiritual mumbo jumbo stuff. Instead of just a... motivational, generic self-improvement thing. You know, fortune cookie stuff.

[ it's weird. ]

[siffriend]

[ ............ Well-- ]

They do follow a Change God. So it is spiritual, to them. A way of life and a belief they hold onto. I guess it makes it easier.

[ Anyway. He's going back over to the props now... there's so much stuff. And skulls. Neat. ]

What's a fortune cookie?