TDM #5

[calderaevents]

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

FLAMEFRUIT SANGRIA a deep red wine based punch with chunks of softly glowing fruit floating in it. A single serving makes you feel relaxed, social, and maybe even a little flirty.

MOLTEN MEAD Though the thick drink itself is room temperature, it bubbles sluggishly, and feels very warm going down. The bold flavor affects your mood. You feel very bold! Like you could do anything!

BESALT BRANDY a hopefully staple drink for the brewery, this liquor is smooth and rich with a peppery bite. Ironically after consuming it, you kinda want to bite someone! Not hard! Just a little nip and nibble!

THAT ASHY ESPRESSO a single potent shot of dark espresso swirled with a gold-tinged cream. Intense and bitter with a hint of caramelized sugar. You are now very awake, hyper, and excited.

PYROCLAST'S WHISKEYa glossy black whiskey that turns a vibrant glowing orange when swirled. You now breathe fire.

EMBERMARK WINE a rich, velvety, spiced wine that immediately makes one feel mellow and calm.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

---

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

IGNACIA'S CRADLE/EMBER VEIL

Months ago, a piece of land from Heaven’s Bow fell from the sky and scarred the land below, damaging a part of the city. From that chaos and ruin rose new life, a new ruler, and a new city: Ignacia’s Cradle. Just a short walk from the edge of Grey Ward, the gates of the city are guarded by two massive obsidian golems, and any who did not rise from the lava itself are warned at the entrance that to travel about the city will be most difficult, unless they have obtained a way to mitigate the extreme heat: be that with a charm, an ability, or a potion. The very streets themselves are paved in slabs of volcanic rock, tall spires of buildings constructed and shaped by rapidly cooled lava. The main method of travel are the mine carts, with tracks that wind through the spires ready to take one to almost any location.

Currently, the main feature of Ignacia’s Cradle is the Lava Flats, home of skilled smiths that use the extreme heat of the lava to melt the strongest metals and create unbreakable weapons, glassmakers and jewelers who fashion elaborate headpieces, rings, and amulets. These items are sold at the Ember Market on the outskirts of the Flats.

At the edge of the city lies the Ashfall Terrace, where a small farm using the rich volcanic ash and soil is in its infancy, as well as the Basalt Brewery where clever alchemists are researching ways to use the extreme heat to craft new and unique beverages that they are eager to find folk to test them out on.

---

The hot spring of Ignacia’s Cradle is a breathtaking anomaly located just beyond the Ashfall Terrace, tucked into a secluded crater formed by the celestial impact that gave rise to the city. Here, molten veins from the Lava Flats weave beneath the earth, heating a natural reservoir that bubbled to life amidst the chaos. The spring’s waters shimmer with an ethereal brilliance, hues of deep turquoise blending with molten gold and fiery orange, as though Heaven’s Bow itself left behind a fragment of its essence. Steam rises in curling wisps, carrying the tang of minerals and faint traces of sulfur.

The spring, known to locals as The Ember Veil, is both a sanctuary and a marvel of natural wonder. Its soothing waters are reputed to heal wounds and fortify the spirit, with the temperature kept in perfect balance by an intricate system of naturally formed vents and channels. The edges are lined with intricately carved obsidian benches, where patrons can soak their feet or meditate in the rising steam. Plants resistant to the intense conditions—vivid fire lilies and ash ferns—dot the perimeter, their resilience a symbol of life’s ability to flourish even in the harshest environments.

Sometimes, when two or more individuals share the waters, the spring creates a subtle connection between their minds, allowing memories to surface like ripples on its surface. These shared memories appear as glowing, translucent scenes that hover above the water, visible to all within the spring. Participants can relive moments from their lives, experiencing them through each other’s eyes, fostering profound empathy and understanding.

Another of the spring’s mystical properties occurs when bathers who enter the waters feeling drained, injured, or burdened by grief often find their vitality restored. The waters seem to draw out negative energies and emotions, replacing them with a warm, invigorating sensation that spreads through the body. In rare instances, the spring has been known to accelerate physical healing, mending minor injuries and soothing chronic aches, as though the magic itself is stitching the body back together.

A lesser-known but equally fascinating effect happens on particularly clear nights, when the moonlight reflects on the spring’s surface, some bathers report fleeting glimpses of potential futures. These visions are often cryptic, appearing as brief, dream-like flashes, but they have guided many to life-changing decisions. The alchemists of the Basalt Brewery believe this effect stems from residual cosmic energy, and they have begun experimenting with enhancing it through the addition of rare minerals and lunar elixirs.

RADIANT SUN

The day begins like no other, with the skies painted in hues of golden-pink as the Radiant Sun ascends. Its light spills over the world, warm and soft, caressing the land and filling every heart with a sense of peace. Beneath its glow, emotions of love and connection bloom like never before. Strangers exchange heartfelt smiles, old friends embrace as though no time has passed, and lovers find their feelings deepened, their bonds strengthened.

Even the air feels different—lighter, sweeter, as though the universe itself is celebrating. The songs of birds harmonize with the melodies of impromptu musicians who feel inspired by the sun’s radiance. Those with magical abilities sense their powers of healing and creation magnified, as if the sun itself lends its strength to their intentions. Long-held grudges seem to melt away under the sun’s tender gaze, replaced by tears of reconciliation and words of forgiveness.

The Radiant Sun touches every heart differently:

◾A widow finds peace as memories of her late spouse no longer bring sorrow but gratitude for the love they shared.
◾A timid youth finds the courage to confess their feelings to the person they’ve admired for so long.
◾A gruff warrior lets down their guard, laughing freely with their companions for the first time in years.

For a fleeting moment, the world feels as it should be—unified, harmonious, and drenched in love.

But as the day wanes and the Radiant Sun dips below the horizon, an unease begins to settle...

JEALOUS MOON

The golden light gives way to deep purples and silvers as the Jealous Moon rises, its glow pale and cold. Its light pierces the heart, not to warm it, but to expose the insecurities that lie buried within. Where love had flourished during the day, doubt begins to creep in.

Under the Jealous Moon’s influence, emotions twist and darken:

◾A once-reconciled pair of siblings argue over old grievances, as jealousy over perceived favoritism resurfaces.
◾A couple, who had spent the day lost in each other’s arms, now question each other’s loyalty and intentions.
◾A nobleman, inspired to be generous during the day, grows suspicious of those who received his gifts, fearing they may exploit his kindness.

The air grows heavy with tension, and the magic of the Radiant Sun fades, replaced by the sharp sting of distrust. The moon’s pale light seems to follow people like a judgmental gaze, amplifying every fear, insecurity, and lingering resentment.

Worse still, the night seems endless, as though time itself has bent beneath the weight of the Jealous Moon’s envious glow. For three long days and nights, the moon lingers high in the sky, its pale, piercing light casting a shadow over hearts and minds, amplifying discord and despair. Its power sows strife among even the closest bonds, driving some to dangerous extremes. Yet, when all seems lost, the scholars of the three factions unite their wisdom and uncover a glimmer of hope—a means to dispel the moon’s cruel influence. For those who have not yet succumbed to jealousy’s grip, there remains a chance to reclaim harmony, a chance for redemption before the damage becomes irreversible.

The solution lies not in complex rituals or rare relics but in the simplest and most instinctive actions: physical connection. To weaken the moon’s hold, people must embrace one another—offering a hug, a handshake, or even resting a hand on someone’s shoulder. These gestures of closeness disrupt the isolation and mistrust that the moon thrives upon. Sitting side by side or holding hands creates a barrier against its oppressive light, reminding the afflicted that they are not alone. Even small acts, like sharing warmth through proximity or clasping arms in solidarity, build a shield of connection that the moon cannot penetrate.

As these actions ripple through the night, the Jealous Moon’s light begins to dim, its sharp, cold glow softening until it fades from the sky entirely. The tension in the air lifts, replaced by a quiet calm that feels almost foreign after the chaos of the past three days. Slowly, the world seems to exhale, and the darkness that clung so tightly to the hearts of many begins to loosen its grip. People step back from the brink of despair, their minds clearing as if waking from a long, disorienting dream. Relationships strained by the moon’s influence begin to mend as apologies are exchanged, tears are shed, and bonds are reaffirmed.

ALL IS WELL(?)

With the Radiant Sun rising again, its golden-pink hues spilling across the horizon, life begins to return to normal. The birds resume their morning songs, markets reopen, and the hum of daily activity fills the air once more. Though traces of the moon’s influence linger in whispered memories, there is a collective sense of relief and gratitude among the people—gratitude for the light, for connection, and for a second chance to heal.

In the outskirts of Ignacia's Cradle, Aella and Terra, two of the three leaders of the factions, come together to address the gathered crowds. Together they assure the people that this celestial event was a rare anomaly, something never before recorded in the annals of history. They explain that while the Jealous Moon’s influence was unprecedented and deeply unsettling, it was a unique alignment of cosmic forces that is unlikely to occur again in their lifetimes—or ever.

The leaders thank the people for their resilience and compassion, emphasizing how their acts of unity—simple gestures of closeness and connection—proved stronger than the moon’s envy. They commend the scholars for their quick thinking and the Visitors for their role in guiding others through the chaos. Finally, they urge everyone to move forward, not in fear of what has passed, but with the knowledge that even in the darkest moments, their strength lies in the bonds they share.

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

*February will be the last month to complete quests for this rotation. New ones will go up on March 1st.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's fifth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

All locations are available to be explored! Ignacia's Cradle and Ember Veil have been added, along with details about the Violet Drop regarding the Cult of Triton.

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

Participation in the Radiant Sun/Jealous Moon effects is not mandatory.

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Comments

[needsexcitement]

"Most creatures in Equestria have magic in some way, shape, or form. My special talent allows me to access a more focused portion of it, but I wouldn't consider myself to be a sorcerer like Starswirl the Bearded was. Most of what I do is basic things: light spells, fine manipulation of objects, that sort of thing."

Leylines? Was this something with how his magic worked? Maybe there were leylines in Equestria, too, under different names?

"I'm an Alicorn, actually. That means I have the horn and magic of a Unicorn, the wings and flight magic of a Pegasus, and the strength of an Earth Pony."

There were Earth Ponies that could channel magic through their hooves to grow things, but she hadn't experimented much with that aspect. That and not every Earth Pony could do it.

"You're a Griffin, right? We have those in Equestria but they're not usually anywhere near as large as you."

[needsexcitement]

Equestrian royalty was a complicated thing sometimes. Princesshood was earned via becoming an Alicorn but nobles usually inherited their titles...though honestly their titles meant they could potentially advise the ruling Alicorn(s) but it was ultimately the Alicorns who had ruling power.

"Then I'm honored to have you as my friend." Cadence smiled.

Though she made a note to work on the whole "your highness" thing. She managed to get Twilight to see her as just Cadence. Sooner or later Maribelle would do the same thing...right?

[needsexcitement]

"Glad to hear that." She sighed with some relief. "I feel like I dropped in at the worst possible time. It'd be like you dropping into Equestria when Discord was released from stone: We're normally very peaceful but you caught us on a particularly bad day."

[needsexcitement]

"I was afraid you'd say something like that." Her ears drooped a little. "I'm getting the vague impression that staying here for months at a time is typical. Is that right?"

Her wedding aside, a princess of Equestria had been replaced by a Changeling queen. That meant she and her hive would have more or less unfettered access to Equestria as a whole and potentially its allies across the world. There was no telling the sort of chaos that would ensue. Changelings fed on love which Equestria had in spades, but eventually draining their love would lead to the ponies becoming apathetic and potentially hostile towards one another. The Changelings would have to spread farther as their food source dried up which could cause conflicts not just across the country but the world.

Having her fiance married to a fake version of her was just the sour icing on top of the rotten wedding cake.

[needsexcitement]

Cadence paused, considering her answer carefully. This felt like the periodic diplomatic "quizzes" Celestia would throw her way as she'd gotten older to prepare her for becoming a working royal.

"I'm not familiar with demon culture, so I can't be certain what the significance of a crown is for demons," she stated. "But in Equestrian culture, there's three possibilities: you're some form of royalty, you believe you should be royalty, or to convince others you're royalty." Her mind flashed back to the moment the Changeling queen had transformed into a perfect copy of herself before sending her to the Crystal Caves. "Honestly, if this were Equestria, you'd be able to convince quite a lot of ponies who didn't see you shape shift that you should be crowned at least a ruling prince by virtue of choosing an Alicorn form."

It did reveal her own title but that didn't really bother her. The only reason she hadn't mentioned it was because in this strange new world, her title meant nothing and could potentially be a detriment if someone thought she was trying to use it as leverage when they couldn't even confirm her claim.

[wrathstrikes]

"I see. I've seen that done with a flaming barrel before."

Carnage, indeed.

"I knew a guy like that. He hated battle but had to be a healer in the war. Me, I was built for war."

A few beats.

"But I'm sorry. About your sister."

[youknowwhothisis]

Her friendliness, her awkwardness at the start, and now how she composed herself almost too carefully spoke of considerable polish. Alicorns were royalty, were they? Then he chose the correct form. However-

"Forgive me. Perhaps I should have called you Empress rather than 'Miss', even if your demesne is still missing. As for your assessment, well..."

He shrugged a shoulder. "...I find it rather gauche to wear a symbol so willy-nilly atop my head, myself. The cigar, in this case, is truly just a cigar."

[thesunreturns]

"I could probably think of some equivalent time in my own world as well. The last six months were not particularly welcoming to outsiders. It had just been resolved when I was brought here."

Well, anyone who was immortal and fully humanoid might have done well enough in Simon's world. Simon could count the Visitors to Caldera who qualified for that on the fingers of one hand.

[thesunreturns]

"Thank you. It was quite a while ago." Simon said. "And... I have met plenty of warriors. My wife became one because her people would not accept her as a ruler if she was not willing to fight for them. It does suit her. And having us around means she knows we'd rather she live for us than die for us."

Because if Simon wasn't told time had stopped, he would be pretty certain Dianda would be trying to break in here and threaten the Queens until Simon was allowed to come home. She... probably couldn't get her by sheer force of will or bargaining with the sea witch. Almost certainly.

Simon is very glad time is frozen and his family won't have a chance to miss him.

[needsexcitement]

Cadence relaxed a hair at that. "'Princess', actually. I didn't mention it because it probably doesn't mean much of anything here, so I didn't see a reason to bring it up. Sorry that it might have come across as me hiding it."

She then tilted her headi n confusion.

"...I don't get it. What else could a cigar be?"

[needsexcitement]

Cadence's immortality was debatable (Celestia and Luna were over a thousand years old but that didn't mean she'd live that long), but she certainly wasn't humanoid. She probably wouldn't have done well in that world.

"Maybe that's one reason why we were brought here: We've gone through tough experiences and might have fresh insight on how to deal with the problems here."

[theydrewfirstblood]

John's whole face lights up like the sun as Finnick moves to stretch out beside him--he just wanted to be able to put his hands in his hair, feel and touch and lose himself further. The act of obeying just feels so good, letting go of control and taking orders without fear of what those orders will be...knowing he can just stop thinking and do what he's told, and it will be good for both of them. That he can ask for permission, and even if Finnick says 'no,' it will still lead somewhere wonderful.

Finnick won't ask him to do more than this: be with him, be for him, and it's frighteningly easy to get lost in that.

Realizing what this might be for Finnick, what a question like that might mean, sort of wakes John up a little in a really nice way. He can feel that pleasure with more intention, and as he reaches up to just bury his fingers in Finnick's hair he obeys to the letter.

He lets his hands move down over the sides of his face, his neck, his chest. He rolls to the side and presses his cheek to Finnick's, shoves his hands under his shirt to trace the muscles of his back and slide over his belly. He curls a hand down over his clothed ass, firm sweeps of his hand just to memorize those planes and curves.

Doesn't kiss. Doesn't taste...just touches, feels, sinks even deeper into that heightened sensory experience that comes with letting go of everything, punctuated with softer moans and happy sighs as he just lets himself explore his beloved's lover's body without any more expectation than doing as he's told.

[youknowwhothisis]

"It's something of an idiom! You know, when things look just distinct enough where some people see the object for what it is and others don't. So some people see a cigar and conclude- y'know- that's a cigar. Others see the cigar, something that goes between somebody's lips and they puff away, and they think, 'Oh'~"

He snickered.

[arlathvhen]

"An old friend?" There's an emphasis that should let Felassan know that at the very least, Beleth is aware that an old friend for Solas is not something to measured in the brief years of mortals. She turns to Felassan for a more thorough inspection. Her eyes linger wonderingly on the vallaslin, but--not the time for an interrogation on such sensitive topics.

Their stances are telling an interesting story, and she feels like she's missing the pages that make it all make sense. But the old friend--well. Confirmation that there was something unseen, unknown to her, that would shed light on her confusion.

"Thank you," This is directed to Felassan. Quick work, even on a mortal time scale, indeed. "I've always prided myself on my efficiency." That's a joke, probably. Maybe Felassan isn't the only one who thinks they're funny.

There is a softening in her eyes, however, when Solas openly calling her his heart. The look on her face could only be described as enamored. Whatever is going on here, his open declaration of his love for her still gives her a quiet thrill. It is only after this that she remembers that she's supposed to be quite miffed at him for whatever nonsense he's thrust on her and her house, and her eyes go back to being narrowed.

"Vhenan." An acknowledgement that the sentiment is returned, even if it doesn't mean that he's out of hot water. And speaking of hot water--"I'll go put on some tea. Why don't you take your old friend to the library while I get things together."

Back to Felasssan. "Well, Felassan, of clan Virnehn," Still gonna go with that, buddy? "I hope you will forgive the lackluster accommodations, I fear that we are still attempting to tame this place into something of a home. And I wasn't expecting old friends to drop by." Another pointed look at Solas. Then she nods politely to both of them and turns, trying to run her fingers through her hair and tame the curls as she walks off towards the kitchen. It isn't quite put together enough to do the cooking that an important guest calls for, but it will manage to heat the water for tea well enough.

[needsexcitement]

With that context, Cadence knew precisely what Lucifer was talking about. She had a choice to make here:

A. She could acknowledge she understood and move on.

B. Get a little payback for him making her squirm.

Princess Luna would likely advise that she do the former.

Aunt Celestia, however, could be a bit of a prankster sometimes when the prank in question was perfectly harmless.

Cadence decided to follow Celestia's example. If only because even people back in Equestria seemed to look at her candy-like coloring and assume she was some pure, innocent maiden who wouldn't understand these kinds of things, completely forgetting that love wasn't just the sugary sweet stuff.

She kept her head tilted, narrowing her eyes to express further confusion...and to hide the mischief lurking in them.

"Well, what else would they puff away at? A cigarette?"

[lostinasong]

"Lesson learned I guess," Grace replied between quiet coughs and light spurts of fire, gratefully taking the sweating glass and waiting until she was pretty sure she was done coughing before taking a long drink. "Seems unfair that you can't even trust a drink straight from the bartender," she added, carefully exhaling a breath and finding that, thankfully, the fire was down to just a little steam. "So it's always like this, I guess?"

[lostinasong]

Boy she probably shouldn't be having thoughts about men with big hands and what that means, huh?

"Aw, but it's such a good name though," Grace replied with an almost envious sigh. Even if it was a mouthful. The Iron Bull. Metal as hell, man. "Do you prefer Bull, or?"

[odare]

That smile is wonderful, as is the way John chooses to touch Finnick. Not grabbing or kissing or biting or taking. Just feeling him, getting closer, more intimate. The hands in his hair make Finnick melt, his eyes closing as he allows John to explore him. It's sort of like a sensual hug, soft and sweet, and Finnick exhales some contented sighs as he wraps his arms around John and presses soft kisses to his neck.

"Good boy..." He whispers on an exhale in John's ear. "So sweet..."

Finnick considers taking his long-sleeved shirt off, but he's been forced to undress so many times before that staying clothed actually feels nice. Empowering. Finnick knows he won't, but even if John wanted or tried to grab at his genitals, or ogle him, he can't really. It's up to Finnick how exposed he is, and what touches he receives. In this scenario, being withholding is allowed, might even amp up the tension and pleasure for John, as opposed to being a big no-no in his previous line of work. That's freeing, that feels good.

Finnick's hand moves down again to John's bare hip, his fingertips teasing there lightly. They drift up to John's muscled abdomen, back down to his inner thigh, but still don't touch his cock yet. He moves back slightly to examine John's neck.

"Nice and marked up..."

His tongue laps gently at the spots that are probably a bit sore now.

[lostinasong]

The pick up lines? Terrible. The accent? You know what, not too bad. Grace tried to keep a straight face, but eventually she broke, ducking her to hide her face against her forearm and snickering. "Sorry, hate to interrupt you when you're on such a roll, but do these ever actually work?"

[lost_and_foundry]

"If they'll let me," he says, and his gaze drops to the shingles Felassan was collecting, a little smirk playing across his lips for a second. "Wood shingles are the first thing to go, I think. They may as well be chew toys for the way the sprites are tearing through them."

"Most of the homes are strong enough to support a metal roof. They'd just have to get the metal from Dryad territory." Frowning, he looks past the elf and up to the denuded roof of the building behind him, where most of the scattered shingles came from. The structure is battered, some of the beams visible.

"...any chance you can help me get up there? I didn't exactly bring climbing equipment."

[relocator]

"There's always someone foolish enough to want to help everyone who comes their way," he says, and it's meant to sound dismissive but doesn't quite hit the mark, something bitter hiding between the lines and darkening the entire sentence.

"All I know is I'm not staying a second longer than I have to." And if he has his magic back — all of it, truly... then, no matter how many Doors he needs to open, he will make it home eventually.

Adrian's comment makes him fix him with a look — a wordless yeah, no shit.

"Also typical. We're being directed into doing what they want, our abilities or things kept as hostage... of course there's something we're not being told. Why give us information when we could use it against them?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

The soft praise in his ear threatens to steal that tiny fragment of reason John has regained--and succeeds, voluntarily this time. No coaxing needed, not when giving himself to Finnick like this, giving him all of the control is so...freeing. And to be seen as something as pure as being sweet...

John presses his face to Finnick's neck for a second, where he might be able to feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and can definitely feel the giddy smile curling against his skin.

He's slow to realize, as Finnick's touching him, as the physical arousal keeps tearing little moans and growls from him, that Finnick is deliberately teasing him. He wants to come, needs to come, feels everything so intensely, and yet it feels distant at the same time. He's just sinking deeper and deeper and deeper into need and pleasure and this simple perfect joy of possession that he almost forgets there's more...until he realizes Finnick is teasing him.

John opens his mouth to say...something, he doesn't know what, when Finnick's tongue brushes one of the bruises forming on his neck with a delicious ache that makes him shiver. Appraising them, and him, like John's his prized possession, and that makes John press closer even as he melts into Finnick at the same time with a groan.

"Fuck--feels good, so good...all yours..."

He looks into Finnick's face with hazy eyes gone black with desire.

"...wanna kiss you. Please? Please, can I kiss you?...please, Fin..."

[utulien_aure]

Fingon knows those eyes. Fingon knows that voice.

Familiarity, in this case, doesn't make this series of events any less bewildering. He was upon Anfauglith, not fifteen minutes ago. There had been Balrogs. There had been a whip that- well, the odds had been poor, he knew, but not impossible if he could only break the whip-

For a moment, he wonders. Maybe he blacked out just before a rescue, maybe this inn is simply in an unusual style... maybe Maedhros had a better plan than Fingon had thought, when he had glimpsed the army of the Marches begin their retreat across the plains.

It's optimism a king at war cannot afford. The way Maedhros looks at him, like a wraith come to haunt him in the dark of night, that says a lot. So does the state of the armor lying scattered at his feet.

Fingon is too tired for this. And, frankly, too tired to bother with the royal airs if he doesn't have to use them.

"If there's someone around the corner you need to impress, cousin, give me a moment and I'll summon all the 'my lord of Himrings' you could desire. But I've had a very long day, so if there isn't a need, might you please skip the courtesies and tell me what exactly is going on?"

[holdshisown]

Maedhros looks up at Fingon, eyes full of misery and regret. Fingon, it seems, does not completely understand how much Maedhros has failed him. Not only with his inability to save him from his fate but for all that had come after it as well. All the death and devastation he had caused when he'd been too hurt and unmoored by his loss to care to restrain himself any longer.

He's tempted to argue. To demand judgement. But his king had asked for an explanation and so Maedhros's selfish need for punishment must come after. "What is the last thing you remember?" He asks, but then thinks better of it when he catches a glimpse of the burned and battered armor. "No... don't awnser that. I can see full well what your last memory must be."

He has not risen again and this, if anything, just make him sink even lower to the ground. Bowing his head to hide the tears that has started to rise in his eyes, though he can't quite hide the tremor in his voice.

"For me that moment is long passed," he whispers. "Over a century has passed since then for me. We are no longer in Arda, but in a place called Caldera. Pulled from our own worlds, and times as well it seems, by the Powers here in an attempt to save their own world."

[utulien_aure]

A quick, inquisitive look flashes across Fingon's face as he realizes the figure before him is neither mortal child nor dwarf, but figuring out if the Valar forgot to mention the existence of yet another race of incarnates is probably not the most important matter at the moment.

"The fighting came earlier," he admits with a dry smile. "Unless the smith who made it walks through the door next, I suppose. She might have something to say about what I've done to it."

It occurs to him that the chief smith of the fortress of Barad Eithel is probably dead, along with most of the rest of their shared people. He suppresses the wince that comes with the thought.

"Do you work steel, then?" He steps aside and places the armor on the bed, the better to make use of their limited space. "I've more experience with using than making; I would appreciate a second opinion."

What Barcus will notice when the armor is laid out is that its maker knew their business. When whole, the armor was beautifully wrought, expertly shaped and inlaid with precious metals in a way that enhanced the design without inhibiting its function. The helm was tall, easily able to catch the eye on a crowded battlefield.

Now it's covered with burns and rent in multiple places with what must have been a large and very heavy axe. And the helm... well, the helm might make an interesting conversation piece. If you're of a morbid disposition.