agentlelog | event: a gentle explosion

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event: a gentle explosion

I see a world just out of reach
With shoulders of giants at my feet
There’s not a challenge I’m afraid to meet

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND
You wake, warm and comfortable, and realize that you’re no longer where you were when you went to sleep. The dream was real. As you clamber out of bed and open your door, an impassive footman greets you and leads you to breakfast in a large hall filled with many, many people. They sit around a hodgepodge of tables in a mishmash of furniture—nothing matches anything else, and no two chairs are the same.

The woman from your dream catches your eyes. She stares at you with open shock. “Well,” she says, as a number of males turn to her with withering looks. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She smiles at you. “Welcome to Draega, Stranger. Please, join us.”

Join them at the table and have your breakfast, Stranger. There isn’t much to offer: porridge, water, a bit of milk, some wrinkled fruits, and bread. Coffee, thankfully, is not in short supply. Meet your fellow Strangers, both the ones choosing to live at the Queen’s Residence and those who arrived in the night with you.

As breakfast draws to a close, the Queen’s Steward, Prince Loren Sorey, explains that you may choose to find your own home or stay in the residence for as long as you please. Those who stay will receive a modest stipend but are required to participate in Allairavar’s morning trainings every day. At dawn. Before breakfast. Those who go will need to find their own homes among the ruined buildings of the city and make their own money.

The court begins filtering out of the Great Hall, dispersing to attend their many duties. Linger, Stranger, and overhear…

“What did you mean?” The man leaning over the Queen is Prince Allairavar. His membranous wings flare around him, and his expression is menacing. “This wasn’t supposed to happen?”

Queen Fayura doesn’t look at all alarmed by the massive man caging her against a wall. “It was a one-time spell,” she says. “The web was—” Her eyes go wide. “I need to go look at the web.” She ducks under Allairavar’s arm, which could put a tree trunk to shame, really, grabs Prince Verim, and drags him from the hall.

Allairavar bares his teeth at the wall and snarls. The sound rumbles through the room, and dark temper washes briefly through the residence before all the tangled webs tucked in corners absorb it, leaving the building peaceful and clean of psychic feeling once more.

A TALE OF TWO IDEALS
At exactly 5:46pm, an explosion rocks the city of Draega. Black clouds belch fire to the northwest of the city. Concurrently, in Old Town, a mob of landens armed with Breakers and Muters descends on The Last Meal. They surround an older, Blood woman.

i. Black Out
The power plant maintained by the Tinkers and the Elektrics has exploded. Across Draega, e-line appliances shut down and the city plunges into darkness—the sun set some 45 minutes ago.

Prince Loren reaches out to approximately half the Strangers, asking them to go to the power plant. He shares a mental map with them so they know how to reach the building, as well as the Craft used for air-walking. The tutorial is quick and hardly complete, but now you’ll be able to run above the city to reach your destination.

The power plant burns. Black smoke pours into the air. Master Elektric Doriah organizes the Tinkers and Elektrics who were able to escape on their own. A quick glance reveals how absolutely exhausted she is. When Strangers approach, she sneers but isn’t about to turn away good help.

“There are still people inside. The Blood who did this trapped us in shields.” She hesitates only a moment before collecting Breakers from guildmembers carrying them. “Take these. Your Jewel may not be able to break through the shields.”

Inside, well-ordered building is a mess of fire and melting steel. Airwalking protects your feet, and shields can keep out the heat, but you’ll need something more to protect your lungs. Put out fires, stop systems from overloading, save the machines from complete destruction, and rescue missing workers who are suffocating and cooking inside shields. The guildmembers trapped in the power plant will assist the Strangers who free them, helping mitigate the damage done to the plant and keep it from exploding the rest of the way.

ii. Death of a Councilwoman
Councilwoman Vera enjoys dinners at The Last Meal, and this is well known by everyone in the city. Today, public knowledge of her schedule doesn’t work so well in her favor.

As she approaches the restaurant with her family, a group of landens descends on them. Muters prevent the Blood from taking any action that isn’t purely physical, and this is enough to throw most of them off their stride; they’re used to relying on Craft to fight. The landens separate Vera from her family in a short-lived brawl. She shouts and screams—“Let me go! Don’t you know who I am? The Queen will have you executed for this! Your families will be thrown out of the city! You’re making a mis—”

A shot rings through the air.

The landens peel away from one of their own, a young man gripping a Breaker in both hands. He trembles as he stands over Councilwoman Vera, whose expression is frozen forever in shocked disbelief. Her body crumples to the ground, blood from a gunshot wound on her chest staining the white fabric of her blouse.

In the silence that follows the shot, Allairavar shoves free of the crowd. “Go home!” he snarled, Craft powering his voice.

No one moves.

Except the young landen man. He takes off at a run, and the crowd is still too horrified to do much to stop him. Allairavar wastes no time. He plunges after the young man. At the same time, he reaches out to the minds of the Strangers closest to Old Town. *The Ebon Council is, collectively, a sack of reeking shit, and Lady Vera was a bitch,* Allairavar tells the Strangers. *But if we don’t get between the Blood and the landens, we’ll have another war. We can’t afford another war. Keep them from killing each other while I deal with this idiot.*

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you’re spinning the dial on your own device, you’ll hear…

the news
…angered local landen families by her hard-line position that Blood homes should receive priority as the city continues to recover from the fires set by the Hunter Guild last month. [The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.]

Councilwoman Vera is known for her vocal disdain for the landen Guilds, isn’t that right, Garret? [Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.]

[Garret:] Correct, Wilt. She—excuse the interruption, but we are just now hearing— [The feed abruptly cuts off. Static pours from the Far-caster regardless of what local channel it is tuned to.]

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( Hand-shaking isn't a custom in Westeros, at least not between men and women, and so Sansa gently clasps his hand for a moment before dropping it. She isn't sure if that's what he expected or not and she hopes she isn't seen as rude. )

I am Lady Sansa Stark. Well met, Calvin. As to finding someone who can explain a little more, I am amenable to helping you find such a person. I have questions of my own and it might go easier with two of us.

[ That was probably on him for expecting more, but he does smile awkwardly at her attempt without calling her out on not getting it right. Again, different worlds, or certainly different cultures seem pretty apparent right now.

Also wow. Lady, huh? So she's nobility? She really might know her way around this mess. ]

Yeah, you too. Well met.

[ He's attempting. ]

And yeah, that's what I was thinking. The problem is finding someone who looks like they actually know something.

And pretending as if we're merely interested in solving a problem, as well. We should find someone who seems inclined to talk and is friendly. A gossip will give us words but words are wind - we need someone who won't lead us astray.

( Sansa thinks she reads people better than she has in the past but she still thinks it's a failing of hers, being unable to diffuse through the layers a person uses to conceal their true motives. She needs help. )

Right, right.

[ He's a little nervous about lying in this situation, but it's hard to say if they can trust these people. Honestly, it's hard to say if he can trust her either, but if she really is going through the same thing he is then there's some solidarity in that. ]

Any chance you're good at spotting gossips? Because I definitely could back home, but... people dress a little differently here.

Well, gossips tend to find you, I've found. They cannot resist a story. I have plenty of experience with that from my own experiences in court.

( Not this court, naturally, but court in King's Landing was full of intrigue should a person wish to find it. She wishes she had little birds to do spying for her. )

I suppose the easiest way to draw one out is going to be pretending to be ingenues. It's not much of a reach, considering we truly do know nothing.

So we basically just wander the halls until someone approaches us to talk?

[ Is that what she's getting at? Because he's not entirely against this plan. It sounds easier than trying to spot the right person and approach them first while hoping he's not going to irritate or bother them. ]

Right, we should pretend at having conversation ourselves so as to not look suspicious but, yes, we should basically just wander about until we find someone who takes notice and then we can...apply some gentle leverage.

( Sansa doesn't imagine herself to be the best at this, by far, but she did have excellent tutors in the subject of eavesdropping and subterfuge. Oh, but if only Arya were here. She'd be better at it. )

That's my plan, at any rate.

I'm in.

[ The gentle leverage comment does make it sound a bit like they're going to kidnap and torture whoever they manage to find, but Calvin will politely not point that fact out. He's pretty sure that's not what she meant.

She definitely looks gentle and nice enough not to torture innocent people for information anyway.

He takes a hesitant step down the hall. ]

Okay... if we're making it obvious that we're new we should probably talk about new people things, right? Like uh, tell me about what happened to you before you woke up here.

Ah, well, before I woke up here, I was preparing for a war. My brother made an alliance with a queen to get us men and dragons for...well. The kind of war that no one living has ever seen. I struck the bargain with the Queen in hopes that Draega's assistance would help us.

( Sansa tilts her head, gently questioning. )

And you? What were you doing before you came here?

[ Holy shit? This is for real, huh? Dragons, a war that's never been seen before, deals with royalty...

Man, that is going to make his answer sound really lame in comparison. ]

Last day I remember I was working my job at a convenience store-- Uh, a store where you can buy various goods.

[ Does that make sense in medieval fantasy terms?

God that answer is so lame in comparison. ]

One of my coworkers was acting kind of weird, but not like dragon and wars weird.

You're a shopkeep? I am quite envious; I wish I had a life quiet enough to allow me to do such a thing. I would trade all of what I am and what I've seen to have a quiet life.

( Perhaps she wouldn't have always done so but now? Sansa thinks being a shopkeep and not having to deal with dragons and war is much preferable. )

[ He doesn't mean to, but Sansa's comment has Calvin snorting in disbelief. Though in his defense, he does look pretty mortified in the following second. ]

Sorry. I-- Yeah, I guess it's... quiet.

[ Sort of. His life isn't anything as dramatic as dragons or wars, but it is exhausting. He's become the main provider for a family of six at nineteen, and works almost every hour that he's conscious and upright.

And that's not counting the weird dreams he'd been having lately that-

No. Those aren't really important. A little added stress on top of the mundane stress he was dealing with before, but the only dream that really mattered was the one that ended with him in another world. ]

You mustn't underestimate the gift of a quiet life, Calvin. I've been in war for as long as I can remember, now, and my home was taken from me and burned down. I would trade being a noblewoman for a simple, sweet life. I would trade a lot of things for it.

( Now, though, she is here and she has another duty to fulfill, this time to Fayura and her court. )

[ Compared to her, he probably does have it easy. No one has burned down his house. No one has murdered his family. He hasn't gone to war, though certainly his little brother seems gearing up to go into the military. A bit different there still.

And again, no dragons. Hard to emphasize how much that probably complicates the hell out of a normal existence.

But the "simple, sweet" part of that has him pressing his lips together, humming in--

Well, not agreement. There's something flat about the tone. ]

Yeah. It's probably not something you want to dwell on, right? I mean, it sounds like a lot.

[ He's not changing the subject for noble purposes out of concern for her. ]

How much have you heard from other people about this place so far?

Not as much as I would like. It is very different from my own home and I've been trying to keep an ear to the ground to learn as much as I can. I do know that there's a rift between those who do magic and those who don't; even though I have been gifted with a Jewel, I feel more like a landen. I never did magic before coming here.

( Sansa presses her lips together, thinking. It's easier to voice these thoughts with a sounding board and she's grateful for Calvin in this regard. )

I think it's the responsibility of those with more power to protect those without. That's why I want to help both the Blood and the landen.

[ He nods slowly at her explanation. He can understand the not feeling like a Blood, he sure as hell doesn't, and the dynamics they have between themselves is...

Weird. Landens are a lot more relatable in theory, though he hasn't met one yet, so it's hard to say if that will carry through in practice yet. ]

Man... that's pretty noble sounding...

[ He licks his lips nervously. ]

Honestly, I only agreed to help because of the deal, but I'm not even sure that's still on the table.

I would hope the terms of the deal are still applicable. Otherwise, I've been taken from my home at a very critical time when I really cannot afford to be away.

( Truthfully, the break has been nice but it seems in poor taste to enjoy creature comforts in the midst of a war. )

I choose to believe that the queen isn't going to go back on her terms, though. Perhaps that's naive but it's what I want to believe.

[ He can imagine there's no convenient time to disappear in the middle of a war, and he wonders how deeply embroiled she must be in it. ]

I don't think that's naive. I'm not sure I believe outright, but I definitely want it to be true.

[ Not that he's coming from a time of such high tension, but if the deal he made can't be kept then why is he here in the first place? ]

I think everyone's wish is dear to them and as dear to them as mine is to me. As much as I want it to be true, I think everyone does, and that's why we're all willing to work toward it.

( As far as how long it will take, she has no idea. Sansa knows that sometimes good work can take a long time. She sighs a bit and shrugs one elegant shoulder. )

We just have to figure out the best path to getting what we want and helping the queen.

[ He hums in agreement at the question. He can't say for sure it's true, but he also can't imagine anyone making a frivolous wish if given the chance. ]

That's definitely one of those easier said than done things, but yeah. It'd be nice if she stuck around and told us a little more about what helping her entails though...

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