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balance_logs2020-01-03 01:32 pm
balancemod) wrote in balance_logs2020-01-03 01:32 pm
Field Mission 7: The Queen of Hearts, Part 1
  The day is met the way all others begin: the sun rises from the eastern stretch of land facing the sea, as the citizens of Emberwharf awaken to a fish market brimming with life and splendor. The same sun is seen in Ok'talar, where its warchief watches, as is tradition for its leader to be meditating under the warmth of its warm embrace. The clans of the Highlands pick up where they left off just yesterday, squabbling over minor infractions of land, marriage, or deals that have fell through. And in the cold clutches of Orrenvia to the north, people are bundling up and preparing to visit the mines at the base of the Spine of the World. The general news throughout the Kingdom of Fanelia is that today is a day of celebration. It marks the 110th anniversary of the coronation of its ruler, the Queen of Hearts. While some people around the outskirts of the citadel proper consider this as a day of mourning, many are called forth to partake in festivities, dining, and the accompaniment of the finest musicians from the far-reaching town of Peppelfen. For the last 110 years, the Queen has kept order and, somehow, relative peace throughout the kingdom she rules. Although open defiance and protest is met with swift justice and sentencing, no one can overlook how crafty and careful she is. Her manipulations resonate throughout the annals of the history of Fanelia, present in every major brokered deal throughout its vast land mass and diverse population. Her benevolent guidance is felt by all... as is her tyranny. She is a monarch of paradoxes: obsessed with control, but only acting for the betterment of the realm's self-preservation. Every passionate declaration of "OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" had been necessary up to this point; who else can steer and guide this world into prosperity than she herself? The horizon in the far off distance swirls with its usual tumultuous temper. A dark cloud surrounds the continent where Fanelia is located, known to all as "The Expanse." Every year, the border closes a little bit more inward, narrowing the lands and threatening the civilizations that reside on the fringes. Its presence encroaches, and with it, a general looming sense of fear that one day only the capital city will be left standing, protected by a magical bubble of pure radiant light that allows only those permitted by decree to enter. But none of you can remember your life before this illusion took hold. As far as you're concerned, you've been here your entire life. You don't notice that this farce, this world created by the usage of a Grand Relic, has only existed for a year. One whole year has passed since magic was cut loose from Faerun's fabric, and no one is any wiser that it's been gone at all. You look down to your wrist, noticing the same three clouded, empty colored crystals that have always been there since the day you were born. Each one bears the shape of a heart, and it makes sense to you why Lucretia is known as... 1. THE COURT OF HEARTS A. ANOTHER MORNING, HOWEVER YOU SLICE IT Good morning! Where are you right now? Another day is creeping over the horizon, and your life as you know it is continuing down the path it always has. Wherever you are. However you're feeling. The crystals on your wrist, though you've managed to sort out at least one purpose for them by now, remain as dull and lifeless as they've always been. Maybe you've long since figured out that not everyone has them — and maybe today is the morning that you finally heed a call to figure out why. The harder you think about it, the more questions you seem to have. It's a wide world out there, and there are people you just might be dying to remember. Where will you go? Who will you run into? B. NETWORK Speaking of that one purpose you've stumbled upon: A series of messages that, if you choose to access them, dance across your mind as if they were your own thoughts. Over the years, the messages have ranged from confused — people on the other end wondering what this is, without really finding any answers — to just straight up sales pitches. One day, though, a message under the name of Avalon appears: Wandering fortune teller and adviser offering services. [ooc: If you'd like a randomized way for a memory to begin unraveling, feel free to hit up the RNG thread for a fortune! Note: A low roll doesn't necessarily mean a failure to nudge your character in the right direction, it will just dictate how cryptic and/or troll-y the fortune actually is. Or, feel free to come up with an unrelated fortune for a prompt.] C. AROUND THE CAPITAL One way or another, you may make your way to the capital city, the seat of the Court of Hearts. Whether you're here for answers, or whether you're here just to see the sights, here are a few ideas to get you started.
 D. EXPANDED WILDCARD As we mentioned in the OOC post, we highly encourage worldbuilding and creating your own scenarios to recover your character's lost memories! Outside of the capital city, the entire setting is yours to alter, and play in, as you see fit. Want to haunt the Enchanted Forest, or hunt wild boars? Want to follow your character's fairy tale story and have them work their way to leader of a clan, or of a settlement in Kingstown? Go for it! This is your story to write. If you have any questions, feel free to hit us up on the OOC post. blurb code by photosynthesis |
○ Chaotic croquet: Indeed, you will be discovering how the capital city plays the queen's favorite game. You and a fellow crystal-bearer/Reclaimer will near immediately be roped into a round and pitted against each other, with a rather stern reminder to follow the rules.
○ We mentioned earlier that the castle, should you wander past the common areas, gets a little ... strange. It's labyrinthine in nature, with staircases, doors and hallways that lead to no where, or straight into the ceiling. The neat line of roses planted along the hallways begin to wither the farther you walk — almost as if nobody dared getting lost just to water some plants.
the little ma(ya)tch girl
closed & additional starters
oaths
[ physically, she gets closer with each blip of existence. when she's finally close enough for you to associate the connection with the girl, you see her lighting a match, (the reason the connection feels strong at intervals, you realize) her eyes going wide and round when she sees you. she's shivering, despite the warmth. ]
Are you.... real?
[ she reaches out, as if to touch you, but draws her hand back and takes a step back, apprehensive of what you'll think of her and how you'll react. ]
oath time
That in itself is disconcerting, and Jack is preparing for the worst. An assassin, maybe? Someone from his past trying to catch up with him?
This is not exactly what he expects. This girl seems more than a little surprised, like she's found what she's looking for, and as Jack stares at her from across the alley, he's not entirely sure what he should be doing next.]
To my knowledge.
[Though he's starting to wonder what is and isn't real nowadays. No matter what, this girl doesn't seem to be in great shape, and his first thought is whether or not she's running from something or someone--if he's going to have his hands full soon.]
Do I know you?
no subject
[But that time, all those other times, weren't anything like this. He didn't lock eyes with her over a lit match and feel his heart stop just long enough to realign with hers. Didn't see the echo of his own recognition in her eyes. Wasn't reached for like that, didn't see her hand draw back as though he might burn her.]
[Pure instinct has him pulling his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over her shoulders, heedless of the actual temperature. What the fuck else is he supposed to do? What the fuck else could he possibly do in a moment like this but embrace her wholeheartedly?]
Yeah. 'Course I'm real. Hey, are you—
[Hesitant, aware of his own clumsy wording, he forges ahead anyway.]
Are you okay? Do you wanna go — go get something to eat, or something . . . ?
ii
Sans handles being eyed by royalty the same way he regularly stares down the Queen of Hearts, which is to say he doesn't care one bit, eyes instead flicking to the shadows and the vanishing figure.]
You're going to pull my tail off if you pull any harder. I don't want to sew it back on. [This is not helpful at all.]
ia
Everyone just seems to be straight up ignoring her though.]
You'd think more people would be eager to grab a box of matches. I could take some off you. Or...like, if you need some cash, I could...just give you...some.
[He doesn't really have any particular need of matches himself.]
ia
Oh, of course I would! I've been looking all over for some souvenirs! What are you selling?
[ This is definitely more enthusiasm than is really warranted but it's fine. ]
iii
Y'know, apples are less messy than butter.
[ Ya goober. ]
ii
Wolfwood's gaze follows from the royal figure's gesture to the man in the shadows. Clearly, this girl is somehow attracting a great deal of trouble.
This is not his task. His task is to keep the monk safe. But the monk, virtuous man that he is, always wants to help everybody.
Smiling, he turns and puts his free hand on the girl's shoulder.] Ah, you'll need to meet my comrades too! This way.
[He nods towards the opposite direction of the carriage, as he shifts his grip on his staff to be more firm.]
ii
[His presence seems enough to hide the girl and halt the woman's pursuit, but not enough to block the view from the carriage. The motion is obvious enough, and the barest glimpse of the disappearing man gives him a face to remember, but between pursuing a mark and protecting a child, the choice is clear.]
[He pulls his cloak around her, mostly hiding her from view.]
Don't be afraid. I'll protect you.
ib
In any case, for some reason, he needed to come back later. See if she was still there. No reason why. But instead, where he found her was in an alley. Entertained by a single lit match. Strange. There was something very strange about this little match girl. he watches her a little while, before finally stepping forward and speaking.]
You know, if you want to maximize your profits you should difersify your products at least a little bit.
[Some say the king of the underworld is also the god of wealth, after all.]
ii
It is not the tenth. It is not the hundredth. It is not even the thousandth. She's long since learned how to shush her heart and walk past without a word. She vividly recalls doing just that on a street not far from here, not so many days ago; the red dress and the voice stick in her head, not to fade away for years or decades, but no head was turned, no hand offered. In the grandest scope of things, it would not have made a difference.
This, today, seems to be making a difference.
Frozen, she watches the woman retreat. Extortion. Retribution. Plain cruelty. Wondering is morbid curiosity like poking a bruise - and the woman is gone but the girl is still behind her. She seems to be as young as Pandora looks.
She half-turns and reaches for the girl's wrist with a blank sort of confidence, trying to take it the way one would hold a friend's or a sister's hand. Like, there you are, I've been looking for you - that's what she's after, right? A calm, unexceptional getaway.]
Let's get out of here? [she whispers, not yet even making eye contact with the girl.]
ii; cw: self-injury. a bit.
The familiar flash of red as Maya darts behind her, the following chaos, Sayori putting together the pieces of what's going on— she glances over her shoulder at Maya, for a moment confused and frozen to the spot with uncertainty.
And then...for some reason, as their eyes meet, she gets the sense that she's done something like this before. And it fills her with sudden confidence and—even a little bit of anger.
Sayori's not fast enough to target the older man before he vanishes, so she sets her sights on the royal in the carriage. It's not hard to catch his gaze, match them with her returning glare; he saw where Maya came to hide. He's already looking in their direction.
Once they've met eyes, she bares her sharp teeth and mirrors his nonverbal order, drawing her finger across her neck. And suddenly things go to hell again, but not for the little match girl—something crosses wires in his mind and he doesn't know where he is, doesn't know who he is or who anyone else is either, and he shouts orders that don't make sense and lashes out at his entourage with vicious swings of his arms and then pulls at his own face with tense, hooked fingers—
With a swish of her skirt that better hides Maya's frame behind her, whatever's happening to him seems to stop, but when the mess of the man and his subordinates look towards Sayori and Maya again, it's as if they can't see them at all.
Because they can't! Sayori smiles over her shoulder at Maya and whispers.] Don't worry. They can't see us. Let's find somewhere to hide!
ib
She walks up to the girl, as if to say something to her, but instead just stands there and returns her smile.]