A TRAIN COMES INTO THE STATION.
You wake up on a train.
Your phone is buzzing. It's in your pocket, in your hand, on the seat next to you. It's a normal phone, and you're on a normal train car. One of the lights flickers, a little further down. The world is very quiet. It feels like you're right where you're meant to be. On the phone's surface is a white screen and the words—
WELCOME TO THE CITY. BEGIN ORIENTATION?
▶ NO
Please take a moment to complete your orientation.
Once you're finished, the subway doors slide open to let you out onto the train platform. To your right, the platform continues on and eventually ends; to the left is a set of stairs that will lead you up into the station itself. The platform is quiet, clean, empty—there's no one else around, and the only sounds you can hear are your own footsteps, your own breaths, and the occasional faraway sound of a creaking pipe or rush of air. The train you disembarked will stay there as long as you do, its doors still open, until you finally decide to venture up into this new locale.
As you make your way up the stairs to your left, you find yourself in the belly of City Hall station. The station is large, a sprawling underground mini-metropolis of corridors and storefronts. Here, you may find others like you, freshly-arrived city residents from other realms (or even your own). There is also a subway map, which will give you an idea of the layout of the neighborhood, and ticketing machines, which can currently only be used to buy tickets to a handful of stations located on lines 1, 2, and 9.
If you're hungry or in need of any kind of supplies, there are plenty of storefronts inside the subway station as well—snack stands, convenience stores, restaurants, clothing stores, a pharmacy, and a variety of empty shops that may or may not have ever been in use. Everything is unlocked, and you can take whatever you need.
Characters may stay on the train platform indefinitely, and may re-board and re-disembark from the subway as many times as they like, but the train will not depart nor will the doors close. Once they go up the stairs into the train station, they may hear the train doors closing and the train departing. Another train will not arrive, no matter how long the character waits. Only once they come up the stairs into the station itself may characters encounter their fellow newly-arrived residents and take advantage of what the city has to offer.
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WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD.
The station is located in the city center. It has three major exits that lead to areas of interest in the district, but there are several other smaller exits that lead in other directions around the neighborhood. You are welcome to use any of them, but may find the north, southwest, and east exits to be the most welcoming.
TO THE NORTH
The northern entrance to the station leads up into the sunlight and puts you out in a brickwork plaza. There's a modest building in front of you, three or four stories of stone with a welcoming facade. There's a sign above the entryway—it says City Hall. You may be tempted to explore, if you're interested in learning more about the city and how it functions, but prepare to find yourself disappointed—the folders in the records rooms are full of empty, blank sheets of paper, and the logbooks and balance sheets are similarly devoid of information.
Immediately to the southwest of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. It looks welcoming, with an inviting glass facade and a sign above the entryway announcing it as the "TOURIST CENTER." It's a humble building with a receptionist's desk on the back wall opposite the entrance, empty magazine shelves lining the side walls, and a few spinning brochure racks full of blank pamphlets. Anyone is welcome to peruse the tourist literature, though they won't offer much information, being primarily filled with pictures of the surrounding area—City Hall, the park, a statue garden, and the surprisingly heavily-featured cemetery. There are a few sentences sprinkled throughout about basic offerings of the city, such as apartment complexes and office buildings, as well as a few maps with the same limited scope as the larger version on the wall behind the receptionist's desk.
The main feature of the tourist center is the interactive kiosk installed dead in the center, right in the middle of a few rows of uncomfortable chairs that fill the small room. It's noticeably in the way of any would-be foot traffic through the tourist center, and something about the technology seems a little more modern than the computer behind the desk or the landline phone on the wall. The kiosk is a tall silver rectangle, about average adult height, and the upper half is a screen welcoming visitors to touch it to activate the kiosk. If you were to touch it, the screen would come to life with simple dialogue inviting visitors to ask it their questions.
However, residents should note that the kiosk is only programmed to assist with exploration within the available areas of the city. It may not be able to answer every question, and tampering with the kiosk may result in unreliable or inaccurate answers!
TO THE SOUTHWEST
The western exit of the station takes you up into a city park, lush and green with a very light fog still hanging about the trees. There are lampposts on the walkways and benches where you could rest, and plenty of flora, although you can neither see nor hear any signs of animal life. You walk the paths that meander idly through the verdant grass and you feel a sense of peace, some of your unease about this place easing into a pleasant calm. The air smells fresh, like it's recently rained, and you'll find the grass ever so slightly damp should you decide to take a seat.
As you make your way deeper into the park, the trees grow denser and the smell of soil and plant life grows stronger. This is the older part of the park, very nearly a forest, with ivy climbing the trunks of the trees and plants and shrubs growing riotously around their bases. As you turn a corner, you find yourself first in the statue garden, although the statues are harder to see now, choked as they are with ivy. There are many statues, some partially obscured, some fully—very few of them still stand free of the vines and clinging roots. (It doesn't feel quite as peaceful here.) If a statue's face looks a little bit familiar, you may not want to look at it too long.
Continue down the path and you will find yourself in a graveyard, one that seems centuries old. Most of the headstones are worn away by time and covered in moss, rendering them impossible to read. The few that are free of moss are blank, or bear only suggestions of names too faint to be understood. (Was that the name of—no, it couldn't have been. Could it?) Many of the headstones stand at an angle or are toppled over completely, having been subjected to either strong winds or the roots of the trees that grow up from some of the graves, spreading branches toward the sky.
TO THE EAST
The final exit of the station, to the east, puts you out on a quiet surface street. Are you hungry? Or are you paralyzed by choice? There are plenty of restaurants, offering options of almost any food you can imagine. You could try a convenience store—it's well stocked, and the items there seem free for the taking. How about a restaurant? There's no one to take your order, but when you look in the kitchen, there's something on the stove, and it's just what you've been craving. Imagine that.
A few blocks down, you come in through the lobby of a tall building and find yourself in a corporate office. The fluorescent lights are steady and unforgiving, and the cubicles and offices are empty. There are a few pieces of paper on desks, a few folders left in organizers, but everything is perfectly blank. Despite how empty and quiet the office is, it nonetheless gives you the feeling that just a few minutes ago, this place was bustling with workers going about their daily business.
You enter another building and find yourself in the lobby of an apartment complex—finally, a place to rest. The first door you try opens easily into a completely empty living room, freshly vacuumed but without a single piece of furniture. It's a nice apartment, quiet, but with a little too much echo for your taste, maybe. Still, and perhaps oddly, you have no trouble envisioning what life here would be like.
The second door you open leads to an apartment that feels lived-in. Why does it feel lived-in? It's fully furnished with items that seem to go together perfectly, true, but the feeling is more than that—the room feels like someone was just here, maybe standing right in the kitchen only moments before you swung the door open. The air is a perfectly comfortable temperature, and it somehow smells like home despite that you've never once set foot here before. The refrigerator is stocked, and the cabinets are full of spices and flatware and kitchen utensils.
As you look around the living room, you find that there are pictures in frames on the walls and some of the flat surfaces—a seascape, a field, a shot of a city park bench. In each of the photos there's something just slightly wrong with the angle, as though the photographer were aiming for a subject that can no longer be seen.
Characters are welcome to explore the district around the City Hall subway station to their heart's content. The City Hall building itself contains several floors of offices and file rooms, but none of them contain any particularly interesting information. Nonetheless, characters may wish to team up with other newcomers and try to find some hints about the nature of the city. They can also spend a while in the park, the statue garden, or the graveyard. In the blocks surrounding the station there are plenty of options for food and housing, as well as office buildings, storefronts, and alleyways to look around. There are no workers in any of the buildings, and there does not seem to be an honor system for payment, nor any consequences for taking food from the stores or setting up camp in an apartment or office building.
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I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM.
Have you ever visited the ice cream parlor located in District 2? It's a pretty quirky little joint!
When you walk in, what you'll likely notice first is the colors. Everything is bright, almost oversaturated—the pink of the leather seats, the teal of the walls, the red of the menu sign hanging over the counter. By all rights it seems like these colors shouldn't go together, but somehow they do, or maybe that's just because being in an ice cream parlor puts you in a good mood. It smells like waffle cones, and overhead, there's music pumping through the speakers at just the right volume, providing some nice background noise to your decision-making process.
Wait, music?
There's a jukebox at the far end of the shop, which seems to be where the music is being chosen. As you head over, the song comes to an end and the jukebox machinery shuffles through its options before landing on a new one. The song sounds sort of familiar, doesn't it? And the longer you listen, the more the lyrics really seem to speak to you. It costs money to pick your own song, so if you happen to have some coins on you—or if you're really, really determined—you can choose the next round of tunes.
When you're done at the jukebox, you can go check out the serving area of the shop. Behind the counter you can see milkshake mixers and waffle cone makers; there are ice cream cakes in the freezers that line the wall; and when you approach the main counter you can see the tubs of ice cream in almost any flavor you can imagine.
Pick a flavor, whichever one's your favorite! Do you want it in a cone or in a bowl? There are regular cones and waffle cones, and all kinds of toppings—sprinkles, syrups, gummy candy, mini marshmallows. Decorate your ice cream however you want, the sky's the limit when it comes to choices! You can even come back for seconds if you want, or thirds. Who's going to say anything about it, after all?
But the more of your ice cream you eat, the more you start to feel… strange. Maybe you're starting to get angry, or sad, or giddy—maybe you feel romantic, or feel like you want to tell a secret to a stranger, and you're not really sure why. You also can't quite seem to stop eating your ice cream, and the more you eat, the less worried you feel about whatever's happening to your emotions. After all, why be concerned about that when you have something so delicious in front of you?
| Flavor |
Effect |
| Strawberry |
You find yourself compelled to seek out strangers and tell them a hidden truth about yourself |
| Rocky Road |
You find yourself compelled to seek out strangers and convince them of some egregious lie |
| Vanilla |
You are overwhelmed by a sense of total calm, and can only speak in aphorisms and platitudes |
| Rainbow Sherbert |
You are overwhelmed by amorous feelings towards whoever is near you and try to cuddle or kiss them |
| Chocolate |
You feel suddenly morose about something in your past and cannot stop crying until someone consoles you |
| Bubblegum |
You become uncontrollably giggly and giddy, and can only speak in rhyme |
| Caramel Ribbon |
You become angry and perhaps even violent, trying to attack anyone who comes near |
| Mint Chocolate Chip |
You suddenly have a common but exaggerated phobia (for example, a fear of heights where the step down off the curb is too much) |
When characters first enter the ice cream parlor, they may notice that there's music playing overhead! That's from the jukebox, and the lyrics of the song may sound like they're particularly apt for a character's circumstances. Players are welcome to choose their own jukebox songs for their characters—it doesn't need to have appeared in canon, but characters from modern times are welcome to recognize the music being played. (Players can also feel free not to pick a real song at all, and instead just describe the overall sound of the song and content of the lyrics!)
This is an ice cream parlor, so of course there's also ice cream to be had. Characters can serve themselves whatever flavor combination they want, but shortly thereafter will find themselves suffering certain emotional effects depending on what flavors they chose. These emotional effects, shown above, will last for roughly an hour before slowly dissipating, and their intensity depends on how much ice cream the character ate and whether they were able to recognize what was happening and stop eating. Not every flavor has an emotional effect, so players can also choose to have their character eat a normal scoop and go about their day.
JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS
WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations.
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citylogs2023-08-02 12:00 am
Rosamund du Prix/Sleeping Beauty | D20: Neverafter
Hello? Little birds? Little creatures?
[With no bow, no swarm, no friends, and moreover no clues, Rosamund steps onto the platform on shaking knees. She's no coward mind you, but this place looks absolutely insane. Metal everywhere, not a soul in sight, and this odd magic mirror that fits in the palm of her hands and only demands questions of her. No answers give back, not even a quaint rhyme of introduction. Frankly it's the stingiest bewitched item she's ever met.
Her boots make a soft tread on the tile, yet still they echo in the emptiness. She shivers, rubbing at her scarred arms. The tattered gown is serviceable but does nothing to hide the damage done by the endless briars. Some of which still grow around her middle. Out of her middle, another set circling the crown of her head. Inert for now, but indomitable as ever.]
Hello? Timothy, Red? Pinocchio? [Perhaps it's silly to be calling for them like this, she'd have heard Red and Pinocchio for sure. Some kids are as quiet as mice. Those two were a herd of elephants.] Gerard, are you here? PIB?
[No answer. She trots forward to the unmanned merchant's stall. Nothing in it looks familiar. She plucks a smooth package up with two fingers, wrinkling her nose.]
...Snickers? [She turns it over. It. Um. Well, it's brown?] Is it supposed to make you laugh? Or will laughing open it?
...Do I want to open it?
[What if it's cursed?]
B) I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM
[Okay she's had enough. Rosamund slams the parlour door open.]
Oh wow, what do you know! Empty too! What a shock! What an unexpected surprise! [She swoops in, huffing, impatient.] And let me guess: nothing of interest behind this counter! Nothing on the paper! Ooooh, aaah! What a mysterious mystery! My goodness.
[She tosses the receipt roll aside and swivels on the goods.]
And more mystery food. Oh what a clever— [She nearly lets the word slip.] — architect you are! Boy, you sure got me! What should I do? Hmm?
[She doesn't want to draw the attention of The Authors. She's not fit to fight an unknowable god that can edit her out of existence on a whim. But also, she's furious. This new story is empty. Completely devoid of life, of reason, of a sensibly built castle. Also she has no weapons and her magic is barely working. What the hell is the point of all this?
Rosamund grabs a scoop and digs it into the nearest bucket.]
What? What do you want from me? Should I gorge myself on ice cream until I pass out and die of boredom?! Is that what you want?! [She jams the whole scoop in her mouth.] MMMMM-MM-MMM! Oh my, it's incredible! So deliciou...oh.
[The scoop clatters to the ground. She curls over on the counter, clutching her head and groaning.]
Uuugh...brain freeze...
C) NETWORK
[As online introductions were, this one could use some work. It starts with a mass-spam of an inept selfie. Her face is rumpled, mouth half open, squinting into the camera. Actually, it's a series of selfies. She had it on burst. Within the set she goes from perplexed to shocked to positively delighted.]
AH Is This a sort of portrait making device
oh why are there words suddenly
hello Can you hear me Hello? to whom am I speaking? HA CHOO
sorry it's really dusty
i promise i aimed away dear stranger
[speech to text is doing her no favours]
D) WILDCARD
[I'm game for anything gang, feel free to surprise me, pm me with ideas, spin off one of my prior prompts, etc etc. FTR Rosamund is 18yo and from a horror/comedy DnD liveplay show, I'll avoid spoilers by default.]
b
... Well, she'll stand in the doorway, at least. She doesn't want to get a spoon thrown at her.]
Excuse me, is all of this really necessary for a bit of dessert? [The question comes with exasperation. Yae leans in the threshold of the parlor, lit half by the fluorescent light inside, dressed like an indecent shrine maiden with pink, vulpine ears and an ornamental gold headpiece. She does not look like she belongs — but then, neither does this strange little human.] You're going to call in the whole city at this rate, if you keep it up. No need to take out your frustrations on the innocent food.
[Seeing the state the young woman is in, Yae lets out a slow breath, sparing a step inside the shop. Then she halts again, this time because the girl's appearance is... more alarming than first thought, covered in those sharp thorns. Yae has enough self-preservation first to wait and see.]
You ate too fast. You'll be fine in a minute, child.
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[A voice?
Rosamund sits up at once. There, in the doorway. A woman. Odd but luxuriously dressed, with peach pink hair and a steady confidence that makes her acutely away of the petulant fit she's been throwing.
She clatters off the counter, wiping hurriedly at her cream-smeared lips and smoothing out her ratty gown.]
Sorry! I'm so, so sorry, I thought — nevermind! [She is not alone! And explaining all the accusatory yelling might get her knee deep into something she can't talk her way out of. Rosamund puts on a smile, squares her shoulders, and takes a curtsy.] Please forgive me. I forgot, I haven't had ice cream in uh...a while.
And honestly, I thought this whole place was abandoned. [She rises, smiling brightly at the glamorous woman.] Do you live here?
[Wait. She tilts her head ever so slightly. Was that more hair, or a pair of furry ears?]
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You thought what? Some arbiter of fate might be listening? [One of Yae's ears flicks, gently, as if to insinuate this.] Or, with all that hollering, I'm sure you thought you were alone.
[The girl confirms this herself with that question.]
It isn't. There's quite a few residents here. Well, I don't know if you could call them that. I only arrived just a few hours ago myself. So no, I don't live here. [A thought she tucks neatly away before it can spiral into unhelpful speculation.] Are you going to eat your dessert properly, or have you given up that venture? It seems they have bowls and spoons, [manicured fingers point to these, as well as a tower of waffle cones,] and those other things to consume it with. Your choice.
no subject
[She shrugs, still ill at ease and watching those fuzzy ears flick.]
Though I must say, I'm very glad to hear that there are residents. I was getting worried. And, well. Frustrated.
[Her chin ducks at the mild reprisal. Right, spoons and bowls would be the proper decorum. She fetches the scoop from the ground with no small sheepishness, setting it aside on the counter.]
I wouldn't mind a proper bowl. Would you have one with me, Miss...?
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a.
While Rosamund inspects her newfound treasure, there's an older man entering the store behind her, taking a break from his day to day explorations to grab a bite to eat. It's not unusual to see unfamiliar faces around these parts, but it's decidedly more unusual to see someone so unfamiliar with the wares up for grabs inside.
He could laugh at her ignorance. Instead, he speaks up, voice mild. ]
If you're hungry, there's no harm in opening it and taking a bite. [ One day, strangers will do the polite thing and introduce themselves first but today is not that day. ] But if you're looking for something with more substance, I'd suggest looking one aisle over.
[ The tone of his voice - kind, casual - paired with the relaxed set of his shoulders seems to imply his words are truly a suggestion and not any sort of order. ]
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She startles, whipping around. Rosamund blinks dumbly at the man, shocked to have been snuck up on and needing extra time to let her brain chug up to speed.]
Hungry?
[It's food? She flips it over again. Ingredients: Milk Chocolate—]
Oh! [She pinches it at both ends and pulls. Nothing. She scrapes along the seam and gets no further. At last she pierces it on the briars, jamming the whole thing into her middle and ripping the perforated cover off.] Aha! It is! I haven't had chocolate in so long, and never so...so...
[Turd-shaped. Rosamund splits the thing in half, just be sure.]
Peanuts, thank god.
[She opens her mouth and brings it oh-so-close. Yet at the last second she holds off.]
Wait. Who are you? [Almost forgot basic survival instincts for a second. She backs up from the curiously dressed man, clutching the chocolate log to her chest.] What is this place? Did you bring me here? Is this poison chocolate?
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The small smile on his face freezes in place as she turns to face him, his eyes dropping automatically down to the thorns that encircle her—and seem to emerge from her. From behind, he'd brushed them off as (admittedly strange) decoration. From the front, they appear to be far more than that.
He frowns, preoccupied. ]
if they were, I would have gotten sick long ago.
[ He may have once had awe-inspiring powers at his beck and call, but they'd never made him immune to poison. He's still human like the rest of them, prone to indigestion and a well-timed virus. ]
But more importantly, are you alright? Do you need to rest?
[ Girl looks like she just crawled out of some dangerous forest... ]
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Rosamund doesn't miss that flick of the gaze. For a moment she's puzzled. It's not usually her drawing stares. The company she keeps is almost all far more fantastic than she. Even as a princess both lovely and battered, she can't compete for novelty against a giant frog man or a walking wooden puppet.]
So I should just take your word for it. [Said with a frown, but no true aggression. Just a knot in her brow and a wary stare. Rosamund extends one half of the log to him.] Then you'd take the first bite?
[Then he's coming at her with concern.]
Rest? No, no I don't need rest, thank you Sir. I need to go back where I came from. That's all. Can you tell me where I am?
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b.
still, trucy can't help but give her rapt attention to rosamund when she grabs the scoop and downs a helping of ice cream. she's almost impressed before the terrifying lady collapses onto the counter.
this is the perfect opportunity to escape. trucy can forgo her attempt to make the perfect milkshake and get out of here before that woman can wake up. maybe she should whack her with something for good measure, just to keep her down for a while? or maybe she should tie her hands behind her back so she can't cause anymore damage? trucy's been working on tying proper knots, after all.
but no. trucy knows the pain of brain frozen. not even an insane zombie witch should have to endure something like that.
she slides out from beneath the table and quickly gets to her feet. ]
Hold on!
[ she scurries up to the counter, stopping only at a safe distance from the heap. ]
Quick! Push your tongue on the roof of your mouth! Do it really hard!
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There's a young girl in a tall hat barking orders at her. Where did she come from? Wasn't the parlour empty when she came in?]
My what? [Tongue. Roof of mouth. She glances askance, but obeys.] Nnngh?
[Oh it's kind of working. Rosamund nods.] Nngh! [She gives a thumbs up.] Nnngank 'oo!
[And there, she feels much better. Rosamund slips off the counter and stands a little politely and a lot awkwardly in front of her saviour.]
Thank you, I feel so stupid. I'm sorry, I was just so upset and — you are the very first person I've seen since I got here! [She shakes her head, incredulous and laughing.] I thought for sure this was some nightmare world I was cursed to wander alone forever.
...It's not, right?
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there's no mistaking that this woman looks a disheveled, scarred, and frantic, and trucy has little to go on in terms of her character, but there are plenty of other eccentric characters in the ace attorney series, and trucy knows a handful of them. this woman might just be another to add to the pile, depending on how the rest of this conversation goes and if trucy can leave it in tact.
trucy takes a little step back as rosamund gets to her feet, but she otherwise stays put. she offers a little unsure smile. ]
Well... Maybe? I don't think so. [ will this lady have another meltdown if she says this ] I don't actually know anything about this place either, and I couldn't find any information at City Hall or the Tourist Center. But you aren't alone! That I know for sure.
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Now that she's looking closer, she can see that her top barely covers anything either. Thankfully she's got the cloak on otherwise everyone could see her arms and shoulders. How old is she?]
Good! That's good, there's nothing more frightening than being in a precarious situation alone. I should know. [She supports that with an unintelligible gesture at her person, but abandons it quickly. The scars, she's talking about the scars. They don't really need pointing out though, do they?] And if it's a nightmare, it can't be mine. I'd never dream up a place like this in a hundred years.
I mean, look at this. [Rosamund turns and presses a thumb into the spongy seat of the stool. The surface is cherry red and shines like metal, but kind of tacky to the touch, and then all cushion underneath.] What is this? It's like leather, but it's definitely not the skin of any animal I know. And the flames in the lights haven't flickered once. Why are they put behind glass, anyway? And on the roof?
[She chuckles, pointing up to one such offender.]
I've got two words for you there: fire hazard.
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b
Well, it isn’t the only reason. There’s a woman who had practically flung the parlor door open and began acting in what he could only call the most patronizing bout of hysterics — clearly frustrated with her new(? he suspects she’s new) circumstances and the lack of answers this barren city is eager to provide anyone. He hears exclamations of gorging oneself on ice cream until she dies, followed by the apparent consequences: a terrible brain freeze.
He’s made his way to the entrance, half-poking his head into the doorway when he hears the scoop clatter to the ground and spies a woman hunched over, clutching her head. He shouldn’t find it terribly funny… But he does. The wretched difficulties of others have always appealed to his misanthropic heart.]
You’re only punishing yourself, you know.
[Henry says, finally stepping in. He clasps his hands behind his back and speaks softly, politely-]
And you’re dirtying the ice cream scooper for anyone who could be interested in trying a flavor.
[He gestures with a hand and, with the power of his telekinesis, said ice cream scooper floats up and trails its way towards the nearest sink to rest inside of it, clattering slightly.]
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Rosamund lifts her head from the nest of her arms, caught between a grimace and open curiosity.]
I...Excuse me?
[First of all, she's flummoxed as to why she went hours without seeing a single soul and suddenly BAM. Young man, power posing in the doorframe. She sits up slowly, dabbing her mouth clean, hand to chest.]
I beg your pardon, I didn't think that — have you been following me?
[She boggles at him. Gasps when he lifts the scoop with some foreign cantrip.]
Oh! You're a spellcaster, yes? Or are you...is this your City?
[Something about his attitude has a Ruler of Worlds quality to it. Cavalier and cool as ice, unbothered by her outburst and idle in his reprimand.]
Did you bring me here?
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But it's probably fine.
For all her anxieties, he does little more than step into the ice cream shop, ignoring how the decor absolutely rankles him. There's music playing, some song he doesn't know, but he ignores that with even more prejudice. Henry isn't all that imposing, for what it's worth; he might stand at six feet tall, but he's all lanky limbs, very noodly.]
I haven't been following anyone. I just wanted to see what's new in the city. And your commotion compelled me to see what was going on in here.
[And that's true enough. Henry's pale brow arches when she calls his telekinesis magic, and even a little higher when she asks if this is his city. What a thought. No, it's just one more prison to add to his ever-growing list.]
I think you're giving me more credit than I deserve. I don't run anything here. I'm trapped here, just as much as you are.
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c, @DONQUIXOT3
THOU ART A FUNNY GIRL
AND MOST INTRIGUING LOOKING AS WELL
I AM DON QUIXOTE
IT IS A PLEASURE TO MAKE THINE ACQUAINTANCE, FAIR MAIDEN
TO WHAT DO THEE HAIL?
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[Please hold.]
I apologize Mr. QuixOTe, I've figured out how to make it stop listening to everything I say. I'm writing now, though it's strange to do so by just tapping at the letters/wq
Thank you you're too kinad. My name is Rosamund du Prix. I take it you're trapesd her e as well??
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IT MEANS I HAVE NOT SEEN ONE WHO TAKES PICTURES AT SUCH A PACE BEFORE!!!
INTRIGUING, WOULD THEE NOT AGREE, MISTRESS DU PRIX?
AND THAT I AM!!!
MY AND MINE OWN HATH BEEN CAUGHT HERE
SAY
NEARER TO TWO MONTHS THAN NOT SO FAR
TIS A PLEASANT PLACE IN ITS PEACEFULNESS BUT IT IS THE SORT OF PEACEFULNESS
IN CERTAIN OPINIONS
THAT PRELUDES DISASTER AND VILLAINY
ALSO, IT IS RATHER BORING FOR ONE WHO HAS SPENT THEIR LIFE MUCH IN MOVEMENT
C
And it could be a prank, but Daniel is earnest enough to assume it's probably someone who truly has no idea how to work these things, so.. ]
Everyone in this place can read what you write like this. It's a mass communication device.
[ Considering this person probably doesn't even know what a phone is, judging by the message itself.. ]
Does that make a little more sense?
[ Look at this guy, explaining it like a true Dad. ]
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everyone really how does that work
are they all sharing the same magic mirror
wouldn't it be hard to see the writing is so small? unless yours is far bigger than mine i've never seen one so small
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Definitely one of the people who has never seen a phone before. It'd be far more startling if he hadn't also already spoken to someone who doesn't know cars. ]
Let's see.. I could explain, but I think it's easier if I first ask what you're used to. Have you ever seen anything like this before?
Like a magic mirror? [ The idea of that is WILD, but okay, okay, Daniel can be calm and just go along with what she's saying to try and figure this out. ] Did you have one of those?
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net; un: Liebing
Hello? You can speak directly and I believe that will yield better results.
[ He speaks to Rosamund warmly, with the delicate notes of a gentleman. ]
If you wish to maintain communication through messages, that is fine as well, but it seems to be inconvenient. My name is Lan Xichen of Gusu's Lan sect. Might I also have the young lady's name?
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[Then, after an excruciating pause:]
...Hello?
[The voice is sweet and lilting, very Disneycore.]
Can you hear me, Lan— [UuuHHHH WELL he said Lan twice??] —Lan? Is it all right if I call you Lan? I'm Rosamund. Hello?
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[ He's celebrating for her, because she's apparently managed to change it to an audio message. This is progress. Well, since she sent images, it seems unfair to leave her with nothing but a disembodied voice. He turns his message to video, smiling back into the phone. ]
I suppose I am still Sect Leader Lan even here. Yes, you can call me that. Are you all right, Lady Rosamund? Were those images meant to find someone specific?
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