citylogs | [open] welcome to the city

Entry tags:

[open] welcome to the city

WHO: Altria Caster (

excaliburden) & perhaps you!
WHAT: Help out a gal who just got here and is still getting used to magical city things like powdered sugar
WHERE: Across the city! Namely: a convenience store, park, subway, etc.......
WHEN: Early November
WARNINGS: N/A! Will update if necessary

a. local victorian orphan discovers convenience stores

[You're probably popping into the local convenience store for sensible reasons, like to buy a soda or to grab a few things you're missing for your dinner. Maybe for one of those hot dogs. No judgment.

Either way, you're getting interrupted by a gremlin in young woman form, who comes right up to you as soon as she makes eye contact, holding up... one of those small little packs of powdered sugar donuts.]

Have you ever tried one of these?

[She sounds awed.

There is powdered sugar around her mouth and on her fingers. She seems to have already eaten three of the five in the pack. It's a little bit like a religious experience, honestly.]

b. park break

[There's only so much walking around the city she can do before she gets tired. Even a few days in, it's still a pretty overwhelming place, and despite making many plans with many helpful people upon first arriving, she... has not acted on any of them.

So it is that even though it's either very early in the morning or very late at night, Altria can be found seated on one of the benches in the park, shoulders hunched and hands in her lap. She doesn't seem to be asleep, just... thinking very, very intently.

Of course, if she notices that someone's near, she'll immediately straighten, lifting a hand to wave--but with how deep in thought she is, it isn't hard to sneak up on her, either.]

c. subway

[Using the subway today to get across the city? That's a perfectly normal thing to do.

There's a young woman there as well, nose pressed to the window as she stares out as the train moves, even though it's, you know, underground and there's nothing to see. It's fine--she still seems amazed.

Also, if you hop back on the train a few hours later to go elsewhere, she's... still there. She might be leaning back in the seat, staring at the ceiling, or moving from seat to seat idly, or, in particularly empty times of day, sprawled along two seats at once.

Don't worry about it. Everything's fine here!]

d. wildcard

(Wanna tag in but these prompts don't work? Totally fine, hit me with whatever--or poke me over here to plot something out!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For Altria, every new story is a new experience. For Altria, these sorts of storybook worlds don't exist--they've never existed. She lives in a world with one single story, and it isn't even a good one, she can't help but think.

Altria considers the script.

She considers the story.

She looks over at Kaveh and sees the wings on his back, and she laughs. Of course she does. He smiles, and she laughs, because what else can they do?]

Like this, you look like you could be a Wind Clan faerie.

[ kaveh's wings perk. altria is a radiant blond thing. her laugh, kaveh thinks, is a little sad.

he peels himself from the knoll so that he can wait for her; patiently steps until they're side by side before he offers her another smile. ]

Is that so? What are Wind Clan faeries like, and how are they different from the kind of faerie you are?

[There are two questions in his curiosity, and Altria immediately knows she only wants to answer one. So she takes the time to stand up and reach his side, returning his smile with her own.]

Hmm... Wind Clan faeries--well, we would say that humans look like them, but I suppose here, you would say that they look like humans. But with big, lovely wings, like yours!

[A firm nod.]

Wind Clan faeries are beautiful and powerful, with a lot of magic. I think being a Wind Clan faerie would suit you!

[A beat. She tilts her head, brow furrowing.]

Oh, but usually the faeries who work with their hands are Earth Clan faeries instead, so that would suit you too...

[ kaveh considers this. right, he thinks. she is from a land of faeries, so it ought to be that humans look like faeries and not the other way around. thinking from a purely human-centric perspective would be diminishing her experience of humans. all of a sudden, kaveh wonders - he's never asked her on what her opinions on humans were.

working with their hands, huh. ]

Well, you've guessed well, actually. In my world, we have elements as our basic building blocks. I resonate with Dendro, which is akin to plant-based magic. Now, the Earth-clan would correspond with our Geo, which is earth-based magic... but it's close enough. After all, I work with soil and all that thrives within it.

[ kaveh's head tilts. ] What about you? What element would you be?

[Elements, huh? Geo corresponding to the earth, which would be the Earth Clan. That makes sense. She supposes there are faeries, or could have been faeries in the old tales, whose entire role was tending to the land. Nowadays, the land is...

... Well.

Despite framing it in a different way, he's looped back around to the initial question. What element would she be? What sort of faerie is she? What clan does she belong to?

... She smiles a little, but tilts her head in such a way as to focus on the path before them, rather than his face.]

Are there people in your world who don't have any elements at all? That's probably the kind I'd be.

[All of them, or none of them, it's all the same. The Faerie of Paradise, or belonging to no clan at all--it's all the same.]

[ kaveh considers this. altria turns away from him. she looks to the path ahead. kaveh thinks - her side profile, that line of her silhouette. there is something lonely about it, as if she were used to looking ahead by herself. just to the lonely path ahead. ]

There are. Rather, the Vision-holders, that is, the people with elements, they're quite rare in the population. It's said that our deities are the ones who grant us our Visions, though current studies say there are three or four possible other explanations, none with any real proof.

The people without visions - well, they're simply normal people. [ kaveh steps onto the path next to altria. he says, ] You don't have to answer this. But are you are normal faerie, Miss Altria?

[And here they are, back at the question she does not want to answer. But likewise, she does not want to lie. In her vision, constantly, there are the crisscrossing lies of the world, disgusting and choking, and she hates to add to it.

She was asked flat out, which means there isn't really any avoiding the question any longer.

He says she does not have to answer, of course, but he has been so open to her, and here she is, cagey as ever. It has just been... so lovely to pretend to be normal.]

I...

[She steps forward, walks along their storybook path, and threads her fingers together before her, so as to avoid clenching her hands into fists.]

I am not a faerie who belongs to any of the big clans.

[Would that be enough for him? Probably not. He has a sort of earnest, honest, insatiable curiosity. But she's quiet after, as if trying to see if that would be enough--or, perhaps, to arrange her thoughts in a comprehensible way. Maybe both.

It's just--she would have really liked to be a normal faerie, she thinks--there's a loveliness to hearing it fall off of his tongue that she's never experienced.]

[ altria threads her fingers together. she does so in front of her. kaveh looks. it's a gesture, such a small gesture, but it holds an entire world. an entire lifetime of emotions, the struggle to be defined and the need to be protected - and in that small gesture, kaveh can see that she is protecting that little part of herself, the little bits that are mortified at being known.

kaveh knows, is the thing, the mortifying ordeal of being known. that isn't owed to anyone.

kaveh considers this. she is a faerie who does not belong to any of the big clans. that's the word, kaveh thinks. belonging. he thinks of her questions, the ones about romance, the ones about his world, the ruminations in the park that she had not shared. ]

You were singled out, weren't you. [ kaveh says, slowly. ] And kept from the things that others had.

[Her eyes widen at him, as if surprised that he was able to pick up that much just from what little she had to say. She's not a very good liar, after all, about most things; it is not difficult to see that he is right.

"Singled out". "Kept from the things other had".

... ... ... She thinks about the cold of the winters she endured. The endless nights without sleep to try to please her villagers. The laughter of the faeries around her--Child of Prophecy? Well, at least we can sell her if we need to.]

[She looks down. This is why she was a terrible pick for the savior of Faerie Britain, she thinks. She has too much spite and disgust in her heart for that role.

What she says, instead, like the good little Child of Prophecy she's supposed to be, is,]

It isn't their fault. The faeries I grew up with... they didn't know what to do with a faerie like me.

["We could sell her", "but the Child of Prophecy might be our savior", "but look at her."

Grow up big and strong, Child of Prophecy. Otherwise, we might have to call the executioners on you.]

Faeries are very fickle creatures, you know? They live life to enjoy the moment, without thinking of the past or the future. They prefer things to remain as they are, unchanging, most of the time.

[ it isn't their fault, altria says. kaveh prickles up much in the way of a hunting beast, a creature of the forest that's scented blood in the water. red has always been kaveh's colour. it has always been associated with blood. and blood - kaveh knows well. to say something isn't someone's fault is to implicitly assert that they may have done something that could seem like it. 'they didn't know what to do with a faerie like me'.

the little intake of kaveh's breath is a sharp one. kaveh feels as if he's swallowed a knife. it sits, lodged, in his throat. ]

If they didn't know what to do with you, Altria, then what did they do with you?

[ kaveh looks. all faeries have a role, kaveh thinks. that's what altria had said. ] ... what was your 'role'?

[Of course he remembers that she said that. Honestly, how rude of him to remember the things that she's said to him. Kaveh is exactly the sort of dangerous person who listens intently--and cares about everything he hears.

What did they do with her?

--She'd rather talk about her purpose than delve into those memories.

So she turns to look at him properly, walking backwards with her hands tucked behind her back, and thinks--this whole situation is ridiculous, isn't it? She sighs, but lightly, and smiles even though it doesn't reach her eyes.]

You remember that, huh...?

[...]

I'm what's known as a Faerie of Paradise. My purpose--my role... is to save the faeries of Faerie Britain.

[She was born the chosen one, and the chosen one she shall remain, whether she wants to be or not.]

I know... that must sound ridiculous. I'm not some great savior figure. I can barely accomplish anything on my own.

[But that's who--and what--she is.]

[ it had been like so, that kaveh had posed alhaitham two questions, and alhaitham had only answered the one he had thought he could get away with. that was alhaitham. kaveh has little understanding into this young woman before her. he has not journeyed with her, has not seen the self-same sights as her, been through her grief. but kaveh thinks - we all make choices.

perhaps she will answer both, though, in time. kaveh thinks, he cannot force the issue. never. but the city will, and his heart aches for it, for the unsaid: what did they do to her? ]

Sometimes, a saviour is a beacon, isn't it? A call to arms. They needn't do anything, save for exist. ... but that isn't true, is it. Whenever a title is conferred onto a shoulder, rightly so or not, there are expectations that follow. Whether they crush someone or not never occurs to those laying those expectations down as if brick by brick.

What is it that you were supposed to have saved the faeries from?

[... When she first began her pilgrimage, it felt so simple, in a way. Daunting, overwhelming, like she was going to be crushed under the weight of it all, but simple.

Overthrow the evil queen Morgan.

Save the faeries from the queen.

... Of course, part of her knew it could never be that simple, and it wasn't. What is her pilgrimage for now? What is she saving the faeries from?

...]

... From their sins.

[Isn't that what it boils down to? The story is so complicated in one sense, but when you strip down all of the details, it is also so simple. She is on a pilgrimage, nearly finished, to save the faeries of Faerie Britain from their original sin.

Because none of the faeries are free of sin.

She looks up the path they're supposed to be walking and thinks--she was nearly finished. Being here... is such a blessed reprieve, but maybe that's a cruelty in and of itself. By nature, it must be temporary. By fate, she must go back and finish her pilgrimage.]

The Faerie of Paradise was created to save the faeries from their sins. So you see, I... [... wishes she was normal. Wishes she could just be a part of one clan, or have the element of Dendro or Geo. But wishes are meaningless in the face of fate.]

[There is a beat.

As ever, she smiles.]

--Well. I can't deny it's been a lot. But I'm doing my best...!

[ kaveh looks. what could a young girl have gone through to force her to smile the way of an overcast sky. like a single strand of spider's silk lowered against the backdrop of an unforgiving moon. like a tears, or a cry.

kaveh thinks of the weight of his own sins. he thinks of someone having the audacity to bear them. it's always been like so - that kaveh can't stop himself from saying what he wants to say. ]

Well, of course you are. You're the sort to do your best no matter what; I've never seen you run past without a smile on your face, and we're in objectively a very creepy city. And just by speaking to you, I can tell you're the sort who puts others before yourself, or at least you think of their comfort more than your own. [ kaveh's eyes are red; this is, ostensibly, because through his eyes, the world ought to be aflame; ] But what you're saying really annoys me. You're saving them from their sins? And where are they, these sin-bearing faeries, while you do all the hard work for them? Shouldn't they also be rolling up their sleeves and getting in the weeds of things to absolve themselves of their own sins? Do they lack their own arms, their own legs, their own minds from which to twist out and scrape a solution to their own problem? Why is it that they're relying on someone else to do what they ought to do for themselves?

That's beyond unreasonable! Haven't they thought about what a weight that must be on your shoulders, Altria?

[She hears thoughts she's had reflected in his words and his voice, and it's--it's such a relief. Why does it have to be her? Why couldn't it be anyone else? Why can the faeries help themselves? Why does Faerie Britain even need to be saved?

She's had spiteful, petty thoughts. Kaveh is better than that, so his thoughts are earnest and kind, like always. Where are the faeries who have sinned to help her? In a way, she thinks they have. She has rung the bells where each of their corpses have rested. In a way, too, she thinks they shirked their duties to the very end.]

... Don't get the wrong idea! I have friends who have been helping me. Without them, I'd never have made it this far!

[Were they from Faerie Britain? No, of course not. That's the only reason, she thinks, they even wanted to be around her.]

So even if it's unreasonable... that's the way it is.

[She's quiet for a moment, and then she looks at him properly, meets red eyes with green.]

Many of them want that salvation. But they are afraid of it too. So... please don't think of them too harshly.

[ friends, kaveh thinks. good. altria's silhouette as she overlooks the endless golden fields here is a lonely one. but if she has friends who are on her side, kaveh thinks, then surely the path forward must be a brighter one than one seen alone. he considers this - that things are simply the way it is. that many of them want salvation, but that they're afraid of it.

of course they are. they ought to be. this is what kaveh says: ]

Of course they are afraid. They are receiving salvation that they have not earned. Any salvation that comes at the expense of someone else is no salvation at all. [ but here, kaveh shakes his head. the fire has died. it must. altria is still smiling. ] I can't promise you that I will curb my thoughts, though I will apologise for that outburst. I... just think it's unfair.

It's not fair. [ kaveh looks. ] Once you have saved everyone, who saves you?

[There isn't any, she thinks. Saving her was never part of the equation. She knew that from the very start, and it only became all the more clear with each bell that she rang, the peals bright and clear across the never-blue skies of Faerie Britain.

Her pilgrimage wasn't about her own salvation. It was about resolving the sins of the faeries. In the end, that salvation wasn't about saving their lives, either.

... but it's not fair, either, that every faerie was born with sin. If it had to be that way, then shouldn't there have been a way for them to work towards atonement? Really, the whole thing is so, so unfair.]

... Well! [It's said brightly, but with the sort of worn down edge that comes of pretending.] Maybe I won't need saving. So nobody will have to after my pilgrimage is done.

[It's a nice little--ah, yes, a fairy tale. Just like what they're in now. A fairy tale.

She can't help but wonder why that's what's used to describe a tale that's warm and fanciful here.]

... Should we keep going? This fairy tale isn't going to write itself, right?

[ maybe i won't need saving, altria says. kaveh thinks - everyone needs saving, at some point in time. this world is built on it, the mutual cooperation and trust. each of them swimming in this vast, untenable sea will eventually meet an insurmountable wave. and what then? in that sea, who reaches their hand to altria? who pulls her to shore?

altria is still smiling. she is a bright, golden halo against the featureless green of this world. she is the only thing alive here.

kaveh looks out into the sky. ]

Let's. [ kaveh says, after a moment. ] I feel the impetus to find some kind of a golden-paved road. I'm supposed to be looking for brick, I think. But listen, Altria -

Nobody may have to, but someone might want to.

[ to save her, that is. after all, that is what love is for.

kaveh looks to her, and nods. ] Now, what's the voice in your head telling you? Brick road, or otherwise? I suppose we can fly and take a look from above; I've never done that before.

[Someone might want to, Kaveh says. The thought clenches her entire heart like it's in a vice. How nice. They still couldn't save her, she knows, but how nice to think that someone might want to.

She doesn't respond, of course; Kaveh moves on properly as she was hinting towards, and she gratefully follows suit. A pause to consider the story, her brow furrowing a little, and then she nods determinedly.]

A brick road! A yellow one! I think I'd really like to see that. What must golden bricks look like?

[She doesn't know the first thing about finding it, of course, and Kaveh's suggestion comes from a place of such innocently intrigued curiosity that she can't help but encourage it.]

I think I'll keep my feet on the ground if it's all the same to you--but you should try flying! You can do our reconnaissance while we look for this road.

Well, then, [ kaveh says, with a glint in his eyes. ] let's see if I can give this a try.

[ in theory, if you were given wings, you were also granted the biology to make use of them. in theory, you flapped them and through it you generated enough lift to get you off the ground. kaveh spreads his wings. the translucent membrane refracts the light, scattered rainbows seeping into the line of his shadow. kaveh gives his wings an experimental flap. and then, he pushes off into the air.

this is the last tag where i can have kaveh do anything cool, because his centre of gravity pitches forward and suddenly he's rolling down the hill. ]

GAH-!

[In theory, this should all work. Altria's never thought about the science and effort behind flying. In Britain, some faeries can fly and some cannot, just like how some faeries have Domains and some do not. It is just a fact of life, and so she's not expecting anything to go particularly right or wrong.

There is no right or wrong for it to go--or so she thought, anyway.

She watches as Kaveh's wings unfurl, as they catch the light breeze and sunshine and push him aloft--

And then he's tumbling.]

... Hwah?

[That can... happen?]

[She runs after him, of course, trying to run down the hill as quickly as she can without taking a tumble of her own.]

Kaveh! Don't break your neck!

[As if he has a choice in the matter now, Altria...]

Altria, I'm trying-!

[ trying to do what, it's rather unclear, because the amount of arm-flailing kaveh is doing is doing no favours for a potential break of some kind, be it arm or leg. but the world tumbles by, and kaveh tumbles by, and by the time altria's caught up, kaveh's got one foot in the stream at the bottom of the hill, blearily eyed as he stares up at the sky and tries not to observe how everything is still spinning.

he groans. ] Oh, flying is difficult.

ilu

ilu more!!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject