TDM #10

[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

WINTER'S WHISPER A fragrant spiced tea that calms the nerves and inspires the drinker to share their hopes and dreams.

JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.

S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.

MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!

HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.

CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker's mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.

GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!

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.

---

Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. If you aren't ready for a permanent home yet, there is an inn in Grey Ward, where accommodations and food are free for Visitors.

THE AFTERMATH

When the mysterious moon god attacked, tearing treacherous rifts into the fabric of Caldera. The Star Gods held these rifts open while Visitors bravely stepped up to find and destroy the broken shards of lunar light within them. Thanks to their efforts, the moon was finally pushed back into its rightful place in the sky. The god sentenced to serve their punishment upon the displaced satellite was seemingly torn asunder by the overwhelming power they unleashed in a last, desperate attempt to destroy the world. Nymion dealt the finishing blow in a blinding beam of lightning and a boom of thunder that shook the very earth, then restored the moon, hanging it carefully back where it should be in the sky, albeit now with visible cracks he was unable to fully mend.

The gods were exhausted, but standing. All except one.

As they descended from the chaos where the rifts in reality had once writhed, Triton carried Cordelia in his arms. The Queen of the Seas lay unconscious, her strength spent after holding both her own and Nymion's rifts open long enough for the Visitors to break through. Fortunately, the seas did not erupt into turmoil; Vesper and Triton kept the Undine realm steady, even as Cordelia fell into a deep, uncertain coma.

"Caldera survives another day!" Nymion boomed triumphantly as he and the others touched down. "This calls for a celebration! 'Tis the season, is it not? Enough pouting — Cordelia will rise again, if she is strong enough to."

SEASON OF LIGHT

In the aftermath of this tremendous chaos and effort, feelings of paranoia, exhaustion, and grief linger in the populace, making the people reluctant to celebrate this victory. Once again, the realm has been shaken, and the fear of life or death is not an easy one to brush off.

Yet at Nymion's urging, the locals yield. Perhaps he is right — this is the season meant for unity and hope. Though still wary, they do their best to ensure that the Season of Lights begins as it has in years past. Once more, the people of Caldera sink into the comforting bustle of distraction, fixing their attention on the imminent celebrations. The holiday, reminiscent of Christmas and New Years, brings gift-giving in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue that cast their glow across sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.

One of the season's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts and share a meal. In the days leading up to the feast, families and friends take part in a tradition known as "Lightwalking," embarking on midnight strolls through lantern-lit streets, singing carols, drinking hot cocoa and cider, and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Even the seafaring vessels join in the light show, their sails and rigging adorned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the water.

Above all, the Season of Lights is a celebration of resilience — a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only briefly, and bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead, especially now that the threat of the moon has been vanquished.

THE GRAND MASQUERADE

Another highlight of the season is the Grand Masquerade that unfolds high above the world in Heaven's Bow, the floating city where the wind dances in the sky and the stars seem close enough to touch. The moon, thankfully, is no longer that close. The event is more than just a celebration of the Season of Lights — it's a gathering of hope, a focus on light during dark and uncertain times. Here among the clouds, the people of Caldera and the heroic Visitors from other worlds come together in a shimmering, ethereal celebration, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks and appropriately fancy dress provided with instantaneous magic when one steps through the threshold of the castle gates.

The gleaming silver palace at the heart of Heaven's Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with shiny blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.

Sylphs — the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky — flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air and playing beautiful, floating melodies on lyres. Their laughter and music mingles with the sounds of the celebration. The atmosphere is that of a sigh of relief, a dissolution of tension; the laughter echoing through the palace halls is tired but genuine, the chatter between friends is that of gratitude that they made it through all right.

FLIGHTS OF FANCY

In the grand hall, there are long tables laden with lavish finger foods and desserts, the plates interspersed with baubles of iridescent glass. A round table off to the side has a tower of champagne glasses with sparkling wine, and it appears to be a custom to pair up, make a heartfelt toast, and link arms with your partner to drain your glass. This wine has mild magical effects, making your form glow faintly and your voice take on an airy, musical quality, which may charm those around you, and slowly turns the din of the party into a symphony as the night goes on. You may also find that you are lighter on your feet, enough to even float off the ground a little as thought gravity has lessened, and it may give you the urge to dance.

And as for dancing, there is a gorgeous ballroom floor that gleams with silver and blue polished tile. The dances of the locals echo the sylph's graceful flight through the air, with languid, flowing movements and a freestyle form of step, letting the music move them across the floor. However, there is the occasional livelier song, where the Calderans will push you into the closest person to partner up for a complicated and jovial traditional dance. Keeping up seems to be optional- there is plenty of laughter and no judgment if you falter in the steps. Finally, a slow dance brings couples together more intimately, holding each other with a renewed sense of love, knowing now that nothing here can be taken for granted.

WRITTEN IN THE STARS

If dancing isn't your thing, you notice that curiously, there's a stream of Calderans leading out of the great hall, and if you follow them, you will find yourself outside in front of a large crystal dome. Welcoming folks inside is none other than Nymion, the showboating Star God himself, who singles out Visitors entering with a special little quest:

"Hey, not a bad job you guys did with those rifts. Couldn't have saved it without your help, but don't tell anyone I said that. Anyway, I'm still looking for exceptional talents in this world, and I've yet to be truly wowed. You up for a challenge? Yeah, of course you are, that's what I thought. Come on, champ!"

He claps you on the back a little too hard and ushers you inside. Upon entering the dome, you discover it's a gorgeous planetarium, so realistic that it feels unnervingly like you're floating in space. In here, Visitors are granted the magical ability to create stars and form constellations in this space. Nymion wants you to create something truly show-stopping, name it, and present it to him. If you're having trouble getting the creative juices flowing, it may help to work as a team with a fellow Visitor. If he likes it, he may just make your constellation real.

QUESTBOARD [NEW QUESTS ADDED]

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.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's 10th 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!

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

◾All constellations crafted by Visitors will be visible in the night sky unless specified otherwise.

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ASK THE TAVERNKEEPER (IC QUESTIONS)

[calderanpcs]

Standard questions and answers:

Q: Where am I?
A: Caldera, a world split by Land, Sea and Sky.

Q: Why have I been brought here?
A: The world is dying and the leaders have requested outside aid from Visitors like you to help revive it.

Q: Where's all my stuff?
A: Not here. You may get whatever you wish returned if you put forth the effort.

Q: Who are you?
A: The keeper of the tavern.

Q: What if I don't leave the tavern?
A: You have no choice.

Q: What happens if we fail?
A: Caldera falls.

Q: What's in it for us?
A: Power. Glory. The thanks of the rulers.

Q: Can we die here?
A: Yes, but Visitors that make an effort to prove themselves to the rulers will be revived. Those who work against them may not be so lucky.

QUESTIONS

[calderamods]

NEW CHARACTER TOPLEVELS

[calderaevents]

Link your toplevels here!

Bob Saginowski | The Drop | Undine

[rocco]

Dude, where's my dog?

Occtis Tachonis | Critical Role C4 | Undine

[patchworkfox]

Just a shy undead boi.

Sebastian | Original | Dryad

[wastedcreation]

arrival tavern.

Ah, the arrival tavern, a lovely place for connection, cheer, comfort, and… Confusion.

Which is what you probably feel when you see a green-haired man in a hospital gown, with his eyes bandaged up, laying on the floor. Or maybe concern? Is he dead, or has he fallen prey to one of the drinks? Feel free to help him up, or kick him (where’s Jax when you need him?)

glass market.

In Grey Ward’s busy market, Sebastian is the picture of helplessness, using a long stick Finnick gave him as a makeshift cane to try to navigate. He hates hustle, and bustle is even worse… But he does love fabric. His fingers dance across the edges of tables, taking in the wares with gentle touches. He stops every so often to linger on a particularly soft scarf or a smooth gemstone, murmuring a few words to the item’s vendor before moving on, knowing most of what strikes his fancy is probably too expensive for him at the moment.

It’s unsurprising that a pickpocket sees him as a prime target. What surprises even him is that as soon as the thief sticks their hand in his pocket, he grabs their wrist and twists it behind their back, easily putting them in a position where he could break their arm. The movement is swift, strong, and almost completely automatic.

“You won’t want to try that,” he murmurs to them, calm but severe.

Not wanting to make a huge scene or get himself in trouble, he lets the thief go as soon as they begin to beg, and they run off.

Now he has to find the damn cane, which clattered to the ground during the altercation. He bends down, feeling around, baffled by how he could feel so capable in one moment and completely lost again the next.

masquerade.

For his first week or two in Caldera, Sebastian barely leaves his room at Finn’s inn. But as the month goes, on, he keeps hearing rumours of a ball, and keeps getting asked if he’s going. At first he’s completely against it, but the more he hears about the magic of it, the good food, the music… The more curious he becomes.

Riding an airship to get there is far outside of his comfort zone, as someone who lived underground for most of his life. He can be found at the airship docks in Grey Ward waffling about whether to get on or not, looking sheepish. Care to buddy up?

Once he gets to the masquerade, his nerves mount, but he tells himself it’s like any spy mission on the surface. Plus, everyone is wearing masks, so he shouldn’t stick out as much, right? The outfit he’s donned upon entry is suitably on-brand for him, and he smiles softly to himself as his fingers ghost along the embroidery and feel the shape of flowers.

He hears how big the space is in the delayed echo of chatter and laughter bouncing off of the high ceiling, and the clack of shoes against the floor tells him they’re polished immaculately. The music is far more lovely than he’d imagined, and he tries to focus on that rather than how overwhelmed he is by the crowds and open space. He eventually makes it to the food tables and picks some things at random, since he can’t exactly see what he’s choosing and he’s not going to taint the food by touching it and then not eat it. He ends up near the champagne table, hearing people toast to each other, and tilts his head curiously. Care for a drink?

quests.

He has no idea if he can be of any help, but he desperately wants to feel useful. He can be found loitering around the questboard in Grey Ward, problem being… He can’t read any of them. His fingers ghost over the postings, but he gleans nothing.

Hearing someone nearby, he sighs, knowing it’s the dreaded time to ask for help.

“Excuse me. Could you read some of these to me? Is there anything… Easy?”

quests

[invigorates]

Lucky for Sebastian, one of the nicest people in the whole of Caldera happened to be nearby when he spoke. Lioriley took those few steps closer so the conversation was not awkwardly half-shouted between them, and smiled - the expression clearly heard even in her tone.

"Of course, dear. Hm. Let me see..." She rattled off a handful of quests, pausing after each one to give him time to consider fully. "The disappearing toy one seems like it may be simple..." she murmured.

also quests

[morganknight]

"Depends on what you consider simple." Morgan either hadn't noticed or didn't care that the guy standing next to him didn't appear able to read. "They've got suggestions on a very general level, but some of them are simple 'find this thing' and some are 'start flying', practically."

Barcus Wroot | ota (existing character)

[lost_and_foundry]

Masquerade

Barcus finds himself smiling a little when he stops at the door of the Grand Masquerade. Last year, this was more than a little memorable. He cozied up to Bel, got picked up and carried by Ashton, and met both Dorian and Orym for the first time. He does remember some slight discomfort with the costume they put him in, though, and so this time he eyes the doorway as if it could hear and accept his input and says: "Nothing with a tail this time, if you please? I'm already easy enough to step on."

Whether it obeys his request or whether it's pure luck, he gets his wish. He finds himself in white and gold, a sleek, jacketless suit that leaves his arms bare and glitters with gold brocade. On his forehead rests a soft circlet, which appears to have both antennae and wings. A bird? A white moth? He can't quite tell, and it's probably open to interpretation, anyway.

"When in Sylph, spread your wings, I suppose," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, and heads for the food and punch tables, expecting to encounter friends there.

Written in the Stars

If it were possible to put his ears back like a cat in the face of Nymion's excessively-familiar enthusiasm, Barcus would. As it is, he senses it doesn't really matter what he says to the god and merely listens to his request and gives a slow nod of understanding.

Frankly, based on his inability to impress him with the Firefly, he rather expects his sensibilities and Nymion's idea of glory simply don't match. Still, the opportunity to tinker with the stars is not to be missed. Hubris? Sure, but hubris in a controlled setting.

"It's almost time for the Festival of the Star," he says to whoever he meets in the Observatory. "When my kin would observe the reflection of the bioluminescent moss and algae in the water on the lake near our village. I wonder if there's a way to make a celestial object that reflects, or even multiplies, the light of the stars around it."

Wildcard

( Hit me up for Lightwalking, dancing, or any quests you want, although check about NSFW quests if we don't have prior CR. Discord is wugglyump. )

Masquerade

[heartofthestar]

"I must say, that is not an aesthetic I expected on you," Venat says, regarding him thoughtfully over the curl of her fingers. "But it suits you remarkably well."

Speaking of unexpected aesthetics, doubtless Venat's qualifies as well. In truth, she is not particularly comfortable in such garb, much as she would be uncomfortable in anything not her accustomed robes, but she evinces no displeasure and has no intent of paying said discomfort the slightest heed.

Tieve (Tav) | ota (existing character)

[tiveragh]

Flights of Fancy

With or without the wine, Tieve finds herself drifting towards the dance floor early on. She was never a match for the grace of the denizens of the Court, but they loved to watch her, anyway, and she's come to realize it wasn't mockery. There is something about the solidity and frailty of mortality that fascinated them.

Her costume is not quite what she would have chosen. It shows more skin than she would have preferred, really, leaving her midriff bare and showing her legs when she steps and turns. It is very comfortable to move around in, though, and she doesn't feel the cold as she dances alone. Glittering jewels and chains decorate her legs. When she is merely walking, they jingle with every step, a light counterpoint to the music playing.

When she dances, on the other hand, the bells cease to ring, as she sinks into a rhythm only she can hear. It's as if she can somehow move with grace enough to keep them silent, no matter how fast she spins.

Wildcard

( Open to any SFW quests, or feel free to catch her Lightwalking! HMU on discord at wugglyump )

[morganknight]

"Wow. Mind a partner?"

Morgan is, as it happens, very impressed with her ability to dance noiselessly despite all her decorations. That takes an immense amount of skill and grace (or magic, but he's assuming that isn't it). And that is definitely the only reason he's sauntering on up, and how very good she looks in that outfit isn't in the running at all, of course!

Courtney Crumrin | ota (existing character)

[sidhean]

Masquerade

Courtney arrives at the door in a sleek leather gambeson over a black dress. Enough for warmth, a little style, and maybe she's hoping to impress Balthiel a bit with her newly gained acumen with armor (probably a lost cause, but she can dream). She reckoned without the magical outfit change at the door, though.

She steps in, shining. A glance in a nearby mirror tells her what she's wearing now and she actually moves slower to get a look at herself. It's dress armor, nothing especially practical, although it feels solid enough, but for whatever reason she finds herself liking it. Courtney's never been the kind of nitwit who complains about being born in the wrong era; she likes having the right to vote and not get burned at the stake.

Still. It's compelling, and it makes her think, once again, about the magical weapon in her keeping.

Paint the Sky with Stars

Courtney does her best to dodge Nymion's slap on her back, with limited success. He sort of manages to clap her shoulder, and she doesn't quite manage to tame her facial expression in the aftermath. She's game to give star-sculpting a go, though, and after a few minutes wandering the room to watch other people, she steps out again in search of Balthiel.

This is an opportunity, after all. Chances are they can't squeeze in a sigil that will weaken or harm any of the deities, especially since Nymion is vetting everything himself, but maybe they can work some kind of protection spell?

She's looking for someone specific, but she's not going to refuse to make stars with friends, either. Feel free to bump into her!

Wildcard

( Open to all SFW quests, Lightwalking, dancing, etc. Discord is wugglyump. )

Masquerade

[twice_cursed]

Someone still probably needs help dressing, but he did his best. He basically pointed out the outfit he'd gotten Courtney for the vampire cult shenanigans and said 'something to match'. Whatever. It could have been fancier, but at least it worked. This is what they came up with and, okay, good enough. If nothing else, it covered most of his scars. At least he could hide knives in it--always a key feature in fashion choices.

It also let him blend in well enough, so that he could manage to sneak up behind Courtney as she was checking herself out in the mirror. "You trying to blind your enemies or your admirers?" Or both? Whichever answer, he liked it.

Loki | ota (existing character)

[coldsong]

Masquerade

Well, last year's outfit was a bit out-of-pocket, but Loki isn't actually mad about it, in retrospect. It was very pointy. This year, he walks up to the door in a plain black suit, and prods at the magic, himself, as he steps through.

Blue skin, black silk, red gems. It's a striking look just by itself, especially since it leaves his chest mostly bare, and the Jotun lines shimmering in the candlelight. The addition of a faux sealskin cloak just adds an interesting twist. The fur looks irresistibly soft. He finds himself running his fingers over one of the 'flippers' with no small amount of satisfaction.

People are going to want to pet him, at this rate.

Perfect.

Written in the Stars

Loki knows better. Even when they're around, the star gods tend not to respond to direct commentary unless they have something to gain. Still, he can't resist the chance to lean a little closer to Nymion when he pats (whacks) him on the back, with a coy look up at him. Red eyes through inky lashes. "Some of us need parameters, you know. If I make something that's blatantly sucking up to you, are you going to appreciate the effort or do you need me to be more subtle?"

Shame? Never heard of her.

Regardless of Nymion's answer, or whether he even gets one, Loki proceeds further into the room and summons his own magic, which arcs across the ceiling in pale green and violet, like a distant aurora. Now, where to start?

Wildcard

(Open to all quests, NSFW included, as well as lightwalking, dancing, and random encounters. Discord is wugglyump)

Masquerade

[thesunreturns]

"People are going to mistake you as a selkie, at this point," Simon commented. He could tell the difference -- while the balance had shifted so that far more Roane (who needed no skin to change) swam the Undersea rather than Selkie, he still recalled the days when one might sea a sealskin pelt tied around shoulder or waist as part of formal dress.

Viktor | Arcane | Sylph

[hexstrapper]

holly jolly.

Any reservations Viktor once had about the arrival tavern have been washed away by his year at home. Jax who? Never heard of him. He is untouchable now, and he wants to socialize and relax a little. He basks in the chaotic atmosphere of this tavern, by the fire, spiced drink in hand making him feel… Well, warm isn’t the word, but it’s pleasant. He sprawls out on the couch, cheeks pink, a blanket thrown over his bare feet, smiling as he watches the people.

masquerade (closed to xander).

Viktor shows up on Xander’s arm, of course, both of them dressed to the nines, looking more disgustingly in love than ever. Viktor could not be more proud of the man he has chosen, and he feels on top of the world, smiling more than ever.

“How beautiful,” Viktor breathes, looking up in awe at the high ceilings and crystal chandeliers. “I suppose you must have been to balls like this before, hm?”

flights of fancy.

Once he’s been thoroughly sickening with Xander, Viktor can be found, of all places… On the ballroom floor. Before his return home, he would not be caught dead trying to dance, but he is no longer burdened with sickness, he can move freely, and the drink made him want to try. Mostly, he is just swaying gently with his eyes closed, in his own world listening to the airy, beautiful music echo through the grand hall. No longer a hunching, awkward beanpole, he now has a grace and confidence about him he’d never have dreamed of before, which is accentuated by the way he can now float a little, moving languidly through the air.

Perhaps he isn’t quite self-conscious enough, as eventually he brushes or bumps someone accidentally. He opens his eyes to regard them.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, with a small smile. His voice sounds strange, otherworldly, but beautiful.

starry eyed.

It’s harder to shock Viktor, these days, but he still can experience wonder, and he gets a heavy dose of it in the planetarium. It’s beautiful, it’s a feat of magic and architecture, it’s…

“Incredible,” he whispers, as he moves a hand and a star appears above him. His mouth is hanging open. He looks around, wanting to share in this with someone, as he had shared in the awe of defying gravity with Jayce, once upon a time.

quests/wildcard.

Plot with me at drewey.decimal on discord for anything else!

[lordofrats]

Xander, in the most cliche manner possible, hummed in agreement — but was distinctly not looking anywhere but at Viktor. Why yes, Viktor was beautiful, so glad he noticed.

"I have been told quite a few — well, not for some years yet." He shrugged. "This feels less stuffy than the ones I attended back home, of course. Less need to play a part and put on a show of wealth."

lioriley | original | undine | in game character

[invigorates]

grand masquerade;

It was not a celebration that came easily, all things considered. Still Lioriley worried for the queen — even more so now that she had fallen and could not even celebrate the season herself. Would she return this time, or would she be gone and replaced, just the same as Aella had? She would hope not, and she was determined to keep her spirits up despite the worry.

She was dressed appropriately for the occasion as she stepped into the crystalline halls, the half mask doing nothing to hide her worry for the world in which they currently resided. But she was good at faking things if she needed to — and had practice enough doing just that as a smile flitted across her features and found its rightful place once more.

The magical effects of the wine were hilarious for a woman like her. She was not a singer — could not hold a tune if her life depended on it — but even that was untrue as her voice lilted pleasantly; shocking even her.

"Oh—" She startled with a laugh, "I did not know I was capable of that."

Good news, too, she loved dancing, so even being abruptly pushed into another person would not deter her unless they seemed displeased by the arrangement.

"No harm in a few turns about the dancefloor, hm?" She offered jovially, extending her hand.

written in the stars;

Lioriley did not do big emotions. Yes, she cried and laughed and startled like anyone else — but rare was it that she gasped so loudly she actually made others jump in surprise.

"Is it here—" She asked, staring up at the vast sky above her, eyes darting back and forth; the glowing lines on her skin pulsing wildly as her heartbeat increased. "Ah! There!" She pointed up to a cluster of stars, "that is so close to what I envisioned. Oh, apologies." She realized she was talking to literally anyone else besides her beloved, and laughed, "There is a constellation my husband and I have seen through numerous realms. One we named ourselves. That cluster of stars is nearly it — I will just need to make some adjustments."

wildcard;

hmu if you wanna do something specific!

[sanguinehunger]

Astarion was dressed and masked to match and compliment his lady, obviously. To do anything else would be so unthinkably gauche. He ambled us Lioriley was finishing up a conversation with another party goer, a glass of wine in each hand, one of which he offered to his beloved when her attention was untethered. "You look so very excited about something, darling," he noted, watching the flash of her leylines over a sip of wine. "Whatever did I miss?"

cassandra "violet" velvet | original | undine

[velutinous]

grand masquerade;

Oh, hell yeah. This was her jam. This was where she belonged. An elegant ballroom, masked up and dressed appropriately for the occasion. Now was her chance to mingle, make 'friends,' find people to suck up to that would protect her while she gained her magic back and then, more than likely, got rid of them once their job was done.

She was the picture of grace and elegance when she swept across the room, catching people by the hand or gently touching their arm to get their attention, then leaning in to whisper:

"Would you like to dance with me?"

wildcard;

u know the drill

danse

[wastedcreation]

Cassandra looks ethereal and dazzling, to be sure, so it's a shame Sebastian can't see it. He's standing with his hand on a table, sipping a drink near the dance floor when she comes over. He has no intention of dancing and is just here to get lost in the music. He's startled slightly from his reverie by her touch, and his body tenses for a moment, jaw clenching.

The saving grace is that he does recognize her voice. She was the one in the tavern with him when he arrived.

"Ah..." He clears his throat awkwardly. Why would she want to dance with him?

"Not much of a dancer. I wouldn't want to step on your feet."

Iroh | ATLA | existing

[dragon_uncle]

Aftermath

Iroh has dealt with bad leaders before. Leaders who did not deserve their rank or trust. He could do so again, and Nymion is squarely in that category. In his experience, all one had to do was do one's work: focus on what could be done and what should be done. Fighting reality was the only battle a warrior was guaranteed to lose.

While he loves a celebration, mourning must come first. Because it was not just Cordelia in peril--many had lost their homes, and lives, who were not important enough for Nymion to notice.

He turns to the nearest person, because, sadly, if anyone has experience in setting up shrines and mourning, it is Iroh. "Will you help me find some supplies? We need incense, drawing materials, small musical instruments." And tea, but he'd get that himself.

The Grand Masquerade

Once the dead and lost have been honored, one must celebrate the living. The dead do not want the living to mourn perpetually. So he of course is there at the masquerade, but he ...slightly misunderstood (or did he?) the assignment: showing up as a lion dancer.

Because you can't be sad when a big fluffy feathery lion face runs up to you, doing tricks, right? He will of course deny there's a human under the mask. But it is, admittedly, hard to eat in this, so you might catch him taking a break and having some snacks.

Quests
He's always up for quests. Rumor has it he needs only one hundred more Bones to achieve his goal. He could have helped during the attack if he hadn't been so busy exploring and enjoying here, and focused on this, and he is determined to fix it, because he suspects that this peace may not last long.

"Do you need a partner?"

quests... he need a granpa

[wastedcreation]

"I do," replies Sebastian sheepishly. Why he needs one is obvious (probably): he wears a blindfold, and scarring on his forehead that leads under it would suggest he does not have functioning eyes. He cannot read what the quests are, let alone set off for one on his own.

"Which ones are you considering?"

Alastor | Hazbin Hotel | Sylph | OTA

[lonelysmiles]

OOC Warning: All threads take place after Alastor's return from his canon update. There are likely to be Hazbin Hotel Season 2 SPOILERS in these threads.

Season of Light

Who would have known that a monster like Alastor loved this time of year?

While not a fan of snow (being New Orleans born and having spent ninety years in Hell after death did not expose one to particularly cold weather), Alastor could be found bundled up in a dashing long red coat with black fur trim. Over his shoes he wore shiny black boots lined with red fur at the top to keep his shoes (and hooves) nice and dry. Black leather gloves covered his hands with his claws poking through just in case.

Now that the moon wasn't constantly looming overhead, the demand for sleeping and relaxation aids had gone down significantly, giving him more time to breathe and enjoy the season. He can be found running Moonshade during the weekdays (the place decorated with wreaths, garlands, and poinsettias) and doing shopping during the weekends. A lot of food shopping in particular. It's the Christmas season Season of Light, and in Alastor's book? That's cause for holiday baking and other treats. (If you're lucky, he might give you some, too. He might even let you lick the bowl!)

The Grand Masquerade

When one had deer features that couldn't be obscured, you worked with the theme rather than fight it.

Alastor wore all black: jacket, shirt, vest, cravat, shoes, and mask. However, all of these items had ruby red and emerald green designs either embroidered or painted on them resembling poinsettias in various states of bloom. Elaborate yet elegant.

He could be found along the wall watching the festivities with a glass of whiskey in hand but he could be convinced to dance for a bit. Or perhaps he'll ask you instead.

Questboard

Alastor was always up for a quest to add a little extra spice to his life. Feel free to request one here.

Wildcard

Have a thread you want to have with Alastor? Toss it his way!

masquerade

[invigorates]

Lioriley liked dancing, so she did not need encouragment from the provided drinks. Hence why she had already danced with a handful of people, and was looking for another partner when she caught sight of Alastor.

If he had assumed she was not aware of his disappearance, he would have assumed wrongly. She had checked his usual haunts and found nothing — so she was a little surprised to see him. Here, of all places, too.

She stepped closer, extended a hand, and said nothing just yet.

Cadence | My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic | Dryad | OTA

[needsexcitement]

The Season of Light

Now that the wind was no longer constantly threatening to rip her wings off, Cadence could be found shopping and assisting decorating for the season she knew best as Hearth's Warming. Her little cottage in Dryad territory had been decorated with crystals she'd grown on the edges of the rooftop, blending in with any icicles that might take up residence. It all led to a glowing pale blue crystal heart similar to that of her cutie mark. A bit egotistical? Maybe, but Hearth's Warming decorations always needed a heart resembling the Fires of Friendship.

Oftentimes she could be overheard singing carols, some with familiar tunes and others not so much.

The Grand Masquerade

As another easily-identified guest, Cadence went with crystals woven into a pale cyan evening gown along with pink, purple, and yellow crystals woven into her mane and tail. It gave an ethereal effect she hoped resembled the Crystal Ponies her ancestor had ruled over a thousand years ago (and that Celestia claimed she'd do the same in the future but she wasn't entirely convinced of that one). Her mask was also cyan blue with smaller crystals glued to it to sparkle in the light.

As awkward as it might be, she'd love to dance. As it was, she could be found dancing with the younglings whose parents needed a break from overexcited children.

Questboard

Cadence is available for questing here.

Wildcard

Want to thread with Cadence but don't see something already here that you like? Send a prompt her way!

The Grand Masquerade

[spacetogrow]

Ilphyl is watching, and offers a bow to Cadence when she's between child-minding jobs. "I was watching; I haven't seen as many people dance on four legs, so I was curious."

Caine | The Amazing Digital Circus | Undine | OTA

[zero_votes]

The Season of Light

"Wow!"

After his time with Viktor, Caine had decided to stop hiding. He wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't dangerous, but he was getting better at it. Besides, even if they didn't love him, he loved humans. The submarine was still his home, but it would stay docked save for when he decided to go out and just enjoy some time with the fish when he felt particularly sad. He wasn't fixed but he was getting better, and that was a win.

Right now, however? He was experiencing "the holiday season" for the first time.

There was one thing to see decorations in images but to see them up close and feel that unique energy in the air? Completely different. It was so jaw-dropping and eye-popping that Caine had to widen his jaws a bit to accommodate for his now-massive eyes.

Care to teach a bot the meaning of the holidays?

The Grand Masquerade

When one technically didn't have a face, you improvised. Unfortunately, Caine may have missed the mark with this one: He'd turned his jaws into the jaws of a skull, his goofy eyeballs filling the eye sockets. The rest of his outfit was fine -- clearly inspired by a more elegant version of a ringmaster's costume complete with top hat -- but the giant skull...yeah, someone might want to explain separating holidays. That was more Halloween than Christmas.

However, he hovered just above the crowd, watching the people dancing with his hands tightly clasped together. His eyes shone not just with reflected light with enthusiasm as he drank in the atmosphere. He'd love to dance, but he didn't want to barge in. That and he wasn't sure if the sort of jubilant dances he knew would work in such a setting.

Written in the Stars

Art was definitely more Caine's speed.

He drifted through the constellations others had made already, taking them in. His training data told him that constellations typically had stories associated with them. Based on the shapes, many of them had been inspired by past events. It was something he'd done as well back in the circus: If anyone in the troupe had ever laid back and really looked at the twilight sky, they would have seen clusters of scribbled stars that were Caine's reminders of the troupe members he'd lost. Not that they would have realized what they were: Caine's understanding of reality was far more abstract than humanity's; he'd simply grouped stars together that just fit what he felt. It was arguably one of the only pieces of art he'd truly done for himself.

The last time he'd made art here, he'd gotten brutally slapped down by Nymion. Though Viktor had claimed the audience had been cheering, he'd had to turn off his audio processors and thus hadn't heard it. While he wanted to believe that was the case, doubt always lingered.

Tonight was another promise of recognition for one's art, but this time? This time Caine was going to try something he hadn't done in a long, long time:

He was going to make what he wanted regardless of the reaction.

As he found an empty space near the floor, he closed his jaws. He took a deep breath and blew it out as he clasped his hands together, pressed against his chest. He didn't look and assess whether it fit human sensibilities: This was for him even if it was erased in the end.

It would start small, a single bright star of pure white. Then more stars began to gather of various colors, shapes, and sizes. None as large as the center star, but brilliant in their own ways. They swirled and gathered around it, forming not a constellation but a nebula that shimmered and whose colors swirled and changed depending on the angle one looked at it.

Questboard

Caine is available for questing here

Wildcard

Want to thread with Caine but don't see something already here that you like? Throw a prompt his way!

The Grand Masquerade

[spacetogrow]

Look, if they don't specify a theme for the masquerade, they get what they get. Ilphyl's costume is clearly fungus themed, with a top that seems like a fallen tree so covered with shelf fungus that the base was invisible, and gauzy sleeves and a partial skirt designed to resemble the veils of some mushrooms. (Suitably, while it is white and cream and bone, it isn't clearly masculine or feminine dress.)

Ilphyl could identify a fellow wallflower (wallmushroom?) and walked up. "Having fun?"

Altan Hawke | Dragon Age 2 | Existing Character | OTA

[altanhawke]

The Aftermath

Altan is battered, injured, drained on a level more than physical after his desperate efforts alongside Deet and Gadriel in Vesper’s darkness. If Gadriel’s available Altan would have staggered out on the big lunk’s arm, clinging like a shipwrecked sailor. In fact, exhausted body and soul, he wouldn’t turn down an offer from a fellow mage or a physician to tell him exactly how badly off he is, and he may go in search of one.

Once he’s recovered enough to attend Nymion’s next speech, either under his own power or leaning on someone’s proffered soldier, he regards the star-god with a flat, exhausted stare, only a little malicious. He’s immediately and subconsciously curious about potential connections between Cordelia’s malaise and his own, but not enough - and not with enough energy - to act on it.

‘Enough pouting,’ Altan says to no one in particular, half under his breath. “I’m a little surprised none of these star gods have tried to kill him yet. Although he doesn’t have as much taste for peasants as most glory hounds. Maker damn the fool, at least let us sleep off the last thing you subjected us to first.”

Season of Light

As Altan has regained more memory and knowledge of who he’d once been, apparently well-meaning demands by a glory-hounding autocrat of an exhausted populace to celebrate him inspire a thin-lipped and ominously flinty-eyed expression as he goes through his own recovery, which likely means cadging meals from friends and acquaintances and much lazing about and napping like an elderly cat. (In particular he’d much appreciate Beleth, Solas, or Belantar dropping by to deliver some meals). Still, no one’s starved for Nymion’s glory and all told very few of Nymion’s resident freemen and serfs (or so Altan still tends to think of his fellow lower classes) had died from the confrontation with the gods of moon, costs that even righteous kings in Thedas would regularly incur without a second thought. So he doesn’t indulge for the moment in any sort of open rebellion but instead a sort of adolescent mulishness.

(Altan Hawke is famously terrible at giving gifts. Everyone in Caldera is perhaps lucky that the confrontation with the cast-down moon gods doesn’t leave him with the money or spare energy to do more than clumsily crochet festive socks for his friends. They’re functional, warm, and in good Fereldan russet, although his work is distinctly poorer than Mother’s or Bethany’s had been).

If Altan were feeling stronger and more energetic, he would have tried to move heaven and earth to get onto those seafaring vessels - or the airfaring vessels in Heaven’s Bow, dragging lights across the sky like near to earth stars. Anyone spending their holiday with him will see him look at the former with naked longing in his agate-brown eyes, keenly missing his Sylph-granted magic of flight. Here, in this world where magic is normal and celebrated, where he should have been throwing up colored fire for the admiration and approbation of all in a way he can’t even think of doing at home, he’s suddenly had his knees cut out from under him. Still, he bundles up in many warm layers and tries to enjoy the absurd luxury of the hot cocoa and cider as if he were a Tevene Magister. (His future self in Kirkwall will develop a taste for hot cocoa during those few precarious years when a bid for Viscounthood had seemed within his grasp). He’s uncharacteristically quiet and glum, but the weight and fragility of his mood are not well-worn habits of his, and if he’s in company, that company probably would not have to try very hard to get him to join a carol (perhaps with dirty limericks) or join in a snowball fight.

The Grand Masquerade

Altan would probably be more likely to attend the Masquerade, given his low energy, if someone invites him; but the moment the magic takes hold and he’s dressed in an intricate gold and jade mask of a stylized hawk and dressed in thick robes of red like Calenhad Theirin stepped right out of a mummer’s play, he straightens up in delight. He does love to peacock. Still, some of his melancholy lingers as his clever magician’s fingers, so recently tied in the metaphysical sense, reach out now and then to touch or almost-touch the small magical fixtures and uses of magic in the hall.

Flights of Fancy

Altan will certainly do just to the foods and desserts, eager to stave off the slightly wan and haunted cast his recent recovery has given him. He’s also no teetotaler. There’s become a few people in Caldera whose help and presence he’d give a heartfelt toast to, but he also admires audacity, so if a stranger to him offers one - he’ll certainly not decline the drink.

Altan is a brash, friendly fellow with some practiced natural athleticism, even if this version of himself has had only periodic formal dance lessons from Mother and far more practice in country line dances and tumbling. He’ll accept any invitations to the initial more graceful dances led by the local gentry - or what passes for them in Caldera, which, this night, could be anyone - but brightens notably when the traditional dance starts, throwing himself into it as if to dance off his concerns, holding out his hands to or accepting the hands of anyone dancing near him to share the momentum of the dance.

He does not assume that anyone wants to slow dance with him, and as the music slows he returns to foraging the dessert tables - although he could be wrong about that initial assumption.

Written In the Stars

Altan probably wears himself out dancing too early and thoroughly to wander outside (and he has less than no desire to interact with Nymion), but if he does and then gets singled out by Nymion, he will make a constellation that is clearly - well - rude graffiti. He will call it Melting Candle, very deadpan. As a reminder of all their shared morality, you see.

Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

Bel is inclined to check on friends. And, well, he had his own troubles in the recent battle. While the scars are largely hidden by his clothing, Bel now carries a set of five gold spots on his face, positioned as if someone had touched his forehead with a paint-dipped hand. And, Bel being the man that he is, has swapped more of his cosmetics and jewelry to compliment that. At the moment, that's not terribly visible, as Bel in winter wears a lot of knit hats with large earflaps -- while snow elves exist, the rest of them have to cover their ears or lose them.

He's also bringing hot food, pastries that can keep overnight if Altan wants breakfast, and a small wrapped gift. "Altan? You around?"

Demure | Original | Existing | OTA

[silkwaltz]

Masquerade

Demure wasn't sure about the masquerade, so soon after the chaos before. But at the same time he understands the need to find joy where one can, so tentatively decides to go. Thanks to Ollie's help, his hair is once again pulled back in a sleek tail, and he's dressed much the same as he was when he arrived- it wouldn't do to present as anything but his best, lest he put forth a poor image of his Clan. And since he was the only one here from it? It definitely fell to him.

But his outfit changed as he crossed the threshold, close-tailored outfit suddenly replaced with black robes and a veil trimmed in gold that covered him near-completely, the mask worn over his mouth gone, replaced by another that covered the upper half of his face in gold filigree, with a strange sort of halo and small chains that jingled subtly when he stopped abruptly, realizing the difference.

"Oh dear! Oh what-" He didn't even have his toecaps anymore, which admittedly made the drider's uncertain hurry over to the nearest reflective surface much more comfortable, but that was the least of his concerns as he got a look at what he was wearing, mouth working soundlessly in a quiet sort of surprise as he took it in.

Wildcard

(Open to quests, other prompts, and the like! HMU at atomic_kiwi, or  Atomic_Kiwi to plot!)

masq

[wastedcreation]

Sebastian's outfit is more simple, and he looks a little lost here. He's bathed in sound and taking it all in, just standing somewhere off to the side. An interesting sound enters his awareness: many quick footsteps, less heavy than the men in clacking shoes, different from the women in delicate heels. There's also a faint jingling, which he really likes the sound of. As these sounds near him, he turns his head toward Demure. It may seem like he's looking at the drider, but behind his mask, there are no eyes peering out, only darkness.

Bob Saginowski | The Drop | Undine

[rocco]

Arrival

This is not right. This is not right at all. Not his bed, not his house, not his bar. Bob wastes no time leaving the room he wakes up in, though he paces the halls for a few minutes, nervous and fidgety and silent. After that, he starts knocking on doors and whistling gently, looking in any rooms that aren't locked and kneeling to look under beds.

His dog is missing, you see, and that's unacceptable.

Finally, he's worked himself into a quiet frenzy of tension, and he comes downstairs, and--okay, he has to admit, this Tavernkeeper does run a tight ship. It's clean. Not a speck of furniture out of place, the bars and tabletop glossy and smelling like fresh lemon. Thank god for that much, at least. He hates this and he needs to know where his dog is, but the familiarity of the environs, even more so than the strange familiarity of the Tavernkeeper, is what saves him from a complete meltdown.

He takes the rag right out of the entity's hand and starts helping with wiping down the counter. Doesn't look at him as he asks his questions and gets his answers. Other newcomers and others visiting the tavern will probably wonder about this strange apparently-baseline human who seems to have assigned himself the position of assistant barkeeper, for the time being.

He'll face the situation and leave, eventually, but it may not be until he's finished sweeping up the nonexistent dust on the floor.

Choose Your Destiny/Aftermath

Bob has a lot of questions about who hurt Cordelia and why, and what they should be doing about it. Anyone talking to him about it all will get the impression his blood is about 80% Respect Women Juice. The other 20% might be alcohol and pine sol. It seems strange to him that in the faction where so many people are healers (he does his research as soon as his feet hit the bottom of the ocean) the Queen is the one that's down for the count.

It's kind of sad. There doesn't seem to be much he can do about it, but he takes a little of the stipend of Bones he's been given and buys a little arrangement of anemones to have sent to her as a get-well gift.

Quests

"I'll do whatever I gotta," he says to whoever's at the board with him. "I think I need to do a lot of these? Real fast? Because my dog is back at home and I don't know if Nadia will check on him until Thursday. She has work on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. He can probably chew his way into the dog food bag, but he needs to go on walks and he doesn't like it when his water bowl sits for too long."

This is clearly nervous rambling, but also this is also a man who cares deeply about his puppy. Also, for anyone from Earth, the accent suggests Brooklyn, with some weird Bostonian undertones.

"I don't really know where anything is, though," he adds. "Except the Inn and the library in Salt Spire."

Wildcard

(If you want to run into him at the Masquerade or Lightwalking, lmk and I can add more prompts! Discord is wugglyump, yes I do lack impulse control.)

arrival;

[hairkink]

It was not an uncommon occurrence for Koujaku to wake up in a strange bed. The difference was that, most of the times he did, there was a woman beside him whose existence explained what had happened and why he was where he was. Today, he awoke in a strange bed alone, without any of his things and no Beni chirping in his ear to wake up.

He thought, at first, he had managed to slip into Platinum Jail and this was just... one of their bits. Some strange ye Olde themed tavern that the rich folks liked to roleplay in, but the longer he remained, the less likely that seemed.

Seeing a relatively normal guy approach the bar was welcomed. And Koujaku opened his mouth to speak just as he took up the rag. Uh. Hm.

"Yo — do you work here, buddy?" Hello??

invisigal/courtney | dispatch | sylph

[gossipgal]

tavern (jingle bell)

Good news: she had her inhaler. Bad news: it didn't really matter that much because she could not turn invisible no matter how long she held her breath? For a few minutes, she was just awkwardly standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the tavern, inhaling deep and then exhaling loudly, breath catching, her inhaler promptly used to assure she didn't die right there.

Then, eventually, there was a loud, "Oh, what the fuck!" before she stomped her way down the stairs, demanded a drink, and ended up with some bright and bubbly nonsense. "Seriously? Do I look like an appletini girl to you?" Fucks sake. She was going to take it anyway, but she will be complaining the entire time.

flights of fancy

"Well fuck me, I guess." She mumbled into her half gone glass of champagne while watching the couples join together on the dance floor, looking lovingly into each other's eyes. Barf. Gag. Ew. Etc.

"This shit happen a lot here?" She asked someone beside her, motioning to her temple with two fingers and making a pew sound. No she's not jealous. You're jealous.

quests

i. sky otters
"...Come on. Really? How do you miss a literal otter snatching your stuff? This sounds fake. It's definitely fake." It had to be fake it sounded so dumb!!! "Whoever posted this is absolutely fucking with us."

ii. magic dice (nsfw)
Courtney tossed the pair of dice into the air, caught them, and looked to whoever had decided they actually wanted to join her on this quest. "What do you think you'll get first? Lick toes? Made sure mine have been marinating in these socks for a while, just in case." She snorted.

iii. video killed the bird star (@ invisigal)
"Haha. Holy fuck this is like stone age shit." Her voice was distorted and about four octaves too high when she spoke. The video looked like a was half sepiatoned and half color, grainy as hell. "May even be worse than the computers at SDN... but seriously not by much."

wildcard

down for whatever

Sky otters

[thecodexabides]

"The operational awareness of the citizens here is very low." His entirely professional assessment. He likes the locals, but they are very dumb. It's Enrichment Day for Elion, which means he's taking the Tressym out for Activities and that always starts with checking the quest board.

"But the quest is likely accurate enough." He shrugs. "There is one way for you to find out." Feel like infiltrating otter holes?

ruby rose | original | uhhh dryad?

[ironrose]

arrival;

"Hey quick Q: What the actual god damn fuck?" Ruby, a short woman with long black hair, deep brown eyes, and a dress befitting a young woman from the 2020's on definitely-normal-Earth, leaned over the tavern bar. "A fucking LARP? First off - didn't bring any of my shit, so what am I going to play, the human peasant with one fucking HP? Second, and I cannot stress this shit enough: WHAT THE FUCK!?"

elysium;

Did she ever learn what the god damn fuck? Probably not. but Ruby was nothing if not adaptable, or whatever. She had calmed down enough to establish the basics: she was not home, she could not shapeshift, and she was fucking destitute. She needed to relieve some stress - so clearly karaoke was the answer.

She stepped up to the mic, glad that it wasn't, like, a wooden wand or some weird shit, and started to sing, the music... familiar, to like. Five people. Romantic to the oblivious.

We're no strangers to love~
You know the rules and so do I...!
A full commitment's what I'm thinkin' of.
You wouldn't get this from any other guy-

Ruby increased the volume,

IIIII JUST WANNA TELL YOU HOW I'M FEELING-
GOTTA MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND...

Oh god.

Oh no.

flights of fancy;

"Ah shit," Ruby said as her jeans and t-shirt transformed into a full length red ballgown. "Grandma would be losing her fucking mind right now if she saw this." Thank god she didn't!

She fiddled with the stupid bird... thing that constituted a phone, frowning as she stood near the edge of the dancefloor. "Can't even take a picture. Seriously." She sighed and looked to whoever was next to her. "Want to dance, I guess?"

never gonna let you down

[morganknight]

One person, at least, appeared to take the song in its intended spirit: Morgan had his face buried in one arm on the table, while pounding said table with his other fist.

It was that or throw things.

Occtis Tachonis | Critical Role C4 | Undine

[patchworkfox]

[ Arrival ]

Occtis is a quiet man, making himself as unobtrusive as possible as he wanders around the tavern watching people and keeping a look out for anyone he knows. Friendly or otherwise.

After he is sure the coast is clear of, thankfully, his family and, unfortunately, his friends Occtis made his way to the bar to speak with the tavernkeeper. He asked the usual questions before leaving her to her business after ordering a Mistletoe Mead seeing as it was the most familiar thing on the menu.

Eyeing the tankard as he sat there he looked like he wasn't sure if he should drink it or not. Could the undead even drink? Would it affect him? What would happen if he did? His curious mind definitely wanted to try it and find out but also...he wasn't so sure. He was afraid of the answer.


[ Masquerade ]

A Masquerade, now this Occtis knew! He was highborn, a noble of one of the Sundered Houses. Even if his family hated him and shunned him he had been taught proper etiquette at the very least.

His clothes are not too dissimilar to something he had back home, the half cape trimmed in fur and not the feathers shown while a decorated black fox mask is tied around his head.

For the most part he stays on the outskirts people watching as he strode with his arms tucked behind him. What catches his eye the most are the Sylphs, they remind him of Thimble and there is a pang of loneliness for a moment. He missed her even if she and the others had only left a short while ago for him.

He knows how to dance but is far too shy to ask anyone himself, instead making his way to the refreshments table and staring longingly at a tray of sweet looking cupcakes.


[ Quests ]

Occtis is also open to quests should anyone want to do any with him.