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 west of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. The kiosk is not currently operational, but you may want to remember its location...
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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A WASH, ANYONE?
The coin laundromat is tucked into the first floor of one of the tall apartment buildings. Soap is complimentary, and while the machines say that they cost a quarter per load, in reality they are fully operational without any money being exchanged at all. If you have any clothes that need a wash, perhaps items that have been dirtied by your explorations (or your travels before arriving in the city), you may want to take this opportunity to wash them for free.
From the soap dispenser, you can retrieve packets of detergent in different strengths. There's plenty of stock of for mild to moderate grime and for heavy-duty stains, but there are also a handful of packets with slightly less obvious purposes. For things remembered, says one. For unhappy accidents, says another. Feel free to use whichever seems most suited to your needs.
When your laundry cycle has ended, the buzzer sounds and the door pops open so the clothing can be retrieved. You grab a laundry basket and reach in to start pulling fabric out of the machine by the handful. But wait a second–the more clothing you retrieve, the less familiar the items seem, and by the time you've retrieved the last bundled sock from the depths of the dryer you're absolutely positive: These clothes don't belong to you.
You're sure that you put your own clothing into the machine, but these are someone else's clothes entirely. Did someone sneak in while you weren't paying attention and swap out your laundry? Or did you accidentally open up the wrong dryer to retrieve the wrong load? Maybe you'd better look around at whoever else is in the laundromat with you and have a go at trying to find the owner of these clothes.
Whether the characters have had their clothing swapped or simply opened the wrong machine to grab someone else's laundry is up to the player's imagination, but one thing's for sure: you have someone else's clothes in your basket. Maybe these are clothes that belong to another character in the laundromat, or maybe they're garments that belong to someone that character knew back home. Players are encouraged to mess around with the premise and use it to get to know other characters!
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COME ONE, COME ALL...
Have you ever noticed that flickering sign hanging in the window of that little building around the corner from the parking lot? The one that says PSYCHIC READINGS in bold neon lettering?
You step inside the shop and immediately smell a powerful combination of aromas: herbs, candles, incense, something spicy and warm underneath. It's a small space, cluttered with objects. A crystal ball covered in velvet sits in the center of a table, and there are tarot card sets and drawers full of dried herbs and flowers. On the shelves are various remedies with labels printed so neatly it's impossible to tell whether they're typed or handwritten. Headaches, or hemophilia, and also irascibility and fits of sighing. There are also jars full of less easily-identifiable contents, but a close examination may show you frog legs, fish eyes, rat tails. For some reason, it feels like sticking your hand in one of these jars might not be the best idea.
Toward the back of the shop is a glass case that holds the bust of a woman. As you approach, your movement triggers a light inside the case to illuminate the woman's face–or where her face would be, if she had one. The normal human features of her face are smoothed out until they barely resemble a face at all, with slightly hollowed divots for eyes and a faintly raised bump for a nose. The closer you get, though, the more strongly you feel that despite the absence of eyes, the woman is indeed watching you.
The lettering at the top of the case states FORTUNE TELLER, and a sign affixed to the front of the glass says, Ask for anything, but be careful what you wish for.
You form a question in your mind, then ask your question out loud. The woman shifts, straightening up, and you hear the faint whirring of clockwork and pneumatics moving inside her. She gathers her hands in front of her, cupping them like she's holding water, and strange light emanates from her palms, casting harsh illumination on the blank space where her face should be. Although she has no mouth with which to speak, you nonetheless hear a vaguely female voice intone, "Your fate has been read."
A paper slip emerges from a slot in the front of the case, your freshly-printed fortune, the ink barely dry.
Although the crystal ball will not actually show the future, characters with any kind of herbal knowledge may clock that the herbs and remedies in the drawers and shelves of the shop are legitimate. Characters can ask anything they want of the fortune teller, or make as many wishes as they like. They'll get as many fortune slips as correspond to the number of questions they ask. Players are encouraged to come up with whatever vaguely-accurate fortunes you think work for your character, but if you're low on ideas, you can always try an online Magic 8 Ball or fortune cookie generator.
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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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citycenter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
citylogs2023-06-01 12:00 am
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Well. If it's not just me that's affected, that's at least some comfort to me. It won't do if I'm the only one who suffers.
[ duh. ]
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[He's slumping on the table. If one of them is lying down then the other of them has to stay sort of upright, but also he's feeling things. Like a headache. And also like he'll be sleepless for the next decade. And also strangely betrayed? By the meat. And the drinks.]
The cheese tastes better if you break it apart instead of biting it, at least if you ask me.
[Look, they need to talk about something while processing whatever happened to them. What else is there to talk about.]
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[ really? ]
And it doesn't matter whether I break it apart or eat it whole, it ends up in my belly regardless as Seiros intended.
[ if anyone asks. he'll say it's the monster (hah!) that's gotten him in a combative mood. debate him in the free market of ideas mood. ]
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[Objectively wrong, but also okay.]
Even if the destination's the same - your belly - doesn't the journey it takes heading down also matter?
[This is such a dumb conversation.]
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[ well, go on, then. he's waiting. ]
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And then he shifts so he can just. Stare.]
That's cheating.
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It's okay to concede to your prince when you are wrong.
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[And just to prove a point(?) he's going to take one of the cheese sticks and break them apart and eat the cheese bits one by one, as Gautiers do (besides his br- nevermind, not thinking about that) to improve the taste and make the texture better.]
Does bread count?
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dimitri makes a face at him. he isn't convinced that he's right. ]
No. You're supposed to slice bread to smaller pieces, in order to make it easier to eat. That doesn't necessarily mean it tastes better. There's no other way to eat it, because human jaws are not meant to distend around an entire loaf of bread.
[ dimitri looks away from him and stares glumly at the greenery ahead, mostly because he is incredibly tired, he feels horrible, and he has a headache that's killing him.
he reaches for the cheese stick. peels the plastic cover. chomps on it sadly. ]
It is also unnecessarily labourious for eating such a small piece of cheese. There is nothing fulfilling about pulling it apart.
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So, what you're telling me is-
[He mimes shoving the wholeass cheese stick in his mouth, as, because he is not a savage, he's not going to shove the cheese stick he's picking apart into his mouth. He has standards.] Doing that's somehow fulfilling to you?
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ok. he stops munching. he peels it, like a banana, then shows his handiwork with the cheese to sylvain - ]
This is nonsensical.
This doesn't enhance the flavour and does little to improve or highlight the texture.
[ anyway, back to eating the entire thing - ] And if I eat it like this, I finish it a lot sooner.
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Skin on or skin off for apples? [Why yes, he's testing to see what else his friend has in terms of food preferences as apparently black is white, truth are lies, and he can't trust Dimitri when it comes to food anymore.] And do you take those in slices or just a whole apple?
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Apples are tricky because if they aren't fresh, biting into one is just a textural horror all around. An apple can have a nice, crisp skin but softer innards which is just ... not pleasing to the palate.
I like them segmented, that way I can judge for myself how to eat it ... the peel itself doesn't matter as much, sometimes if the apple is soft, the peel is often the only thing holding it well ....
[ he is overthinking his apple-eating habits now, wow ]
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[This is so weird!]
I like them whole, skin on. Sure, you're right, if they're not fresh they're not as good but there's something to be said for crunching on an apple and feeling the juice burst on your tongue. But if I'm giving an apple to someone else I usually try to cut it if I can. I think it looks nicer.
[Not that Dimitri's ever seen them, probably.]
I was taught how to make apple rabbits, so if I feel really bored, I make those. I'm starting to feel like I never really knew you. [Cut apples, whole cheese...]
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Look at you, with this hidden talent. [ apple rabbits? interesting. ] I would like to see it.
If I'm sharing, I will just cut the apple as is, and not bother with peeling it. But if it's just for me, I will eat it how I want it.
[ another pause, and then he adds: ] How about something like soup? Let's say a meat stew. How do you like it?
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Something simple, usually. The monastery makes this one stew I love - it's fish and turnips, and they've got this spice I could never figure out. And none of the kitchen staff are willing to share their secrets, even with me [being a whore] trying to charm it out of them. It's got a kick to it that not a lot of food in Faerghus has.
Oh, and, I like having bread to dunk in my stew. Maybe not that loach and turnip stew, but if it's beef stew? I need some bread.
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[ sylvain likes to figure out spices? and has been haranguing staff about it as well? how interesting. he feels very out of his depth considering his own appreciation of food extends to: he has a deep awareness that something is wrong with faerghan food based on several key factors, mostly texture, but it never occurred to him that it was a calculus also involving spiciness on a scale that sylvain enjoys his food with.
dimitri thinks of the food he eats in the mess hall regularly: saghert and cream (sweet pasta), sweet buns (buns with something sweet in them), onion gratin (made with fish, has a thick layer of cheese on top), jerky (always a good snack), cheesy verona stew (another fish stew with cheese, similar style as in the onion gratin), gautier cheese gratin (self-explanatory, sylvain is probably so sick of it), and ....
actually that's all he eats in the dining hall. hm. does sylvain .... eat more than he does? he often eats together with the lions, is it possible the others also have a more varied palate .... he almost always eats gratin .... cheesy gratin at that ..... and almost always fish ..... hm. ]
I guess I shouldn't be surprised to hear you're trying to harass the cooks into giving up their secrets.
I enjoy cheese in my gratin. [ that's probably the best way he can define his tastes, which, well. if felix were here he'd get roasted for having the palate of a child. and he'd be right! ]
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[Sylvain...not quite shoves Dimitri, but nudges him with his foot. A nudge with a point. An attention-getting nudge. A pointed nudge. A nudge that requests attention. Insists on it, even, but politely.]
Harassing makes it sound like I'm Lorenz talking about my silky bearing and how women are like lilies waiting to bloom.
I noticed you like cheese in your gratin. Hey, after we graduate you oughta find an excuse to spend a few weeks up north just so I can slip you my servings of gratin and get a break from it.
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[ charming, smarming .... well, he has to agree, sylvain doesn't so much flaunt his status as a gautier in the way lorenz does, and he'd never refer to women like that unless he wants something from said lilies waiting to bloom, but .... isn't it the same tactic, at the end of the day?
dimitri smiles at the idea of vacationing up north. ]
The last time a Blaiddyd went north, we started an incursion into Sreng.
It'd be nice to go there for matters not related to war. [ a pause, and then he adds, Even if the weather is bad and there is nothing of note to see in Gautier.
[ it's kind of like ... galatea? what is there to see there, famine? anyway. ]
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dimitri catches the jerky as it bounces off the table and eats it. waste not ... ]
Are you the scenery? You're even more vain than I thought.
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[He's offered another piece of jerky.]
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[ grumpy as he accepts the jerky. ]
And I wish we had more. [ a pause as he munches, and then adds, ] Or that the beauty of our country isn't so harshly affected by our terrible seasons.
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[...it isn't, but still.]
This is why you need to spend a season in Gautier, with me. I'll show you how to have fun, you can...uh. Inspire and motivate my father's men. And lecture. A lot. Endless lectures. Probably.
[tmw you realize you're going to deal with a lot of lectures in this mysterious liminal city.]
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[ of all of the things. he knows that matthias gautier's face is just Frozen Like That, but dimitri has the sneaking suspicion that despite rodrigue's words, and despite the fact that the man has declared for him as the heir, he thinks he still doesn't think of him as the successor to lambert's throne.
then again, if there's a man who's always going to have problems with succession, it's someone who's had to hold onto gautier's position all these years. ]
I'll make my visit to Gautier. Not to worry. [ a grumbling, ] I'll have to, anyway.
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