nysalogs | incredibly open....

Entry tags:

incredibly open....

Who: Merlin & yall
What: general catchall for January with some open prompts
When: allllll month
Where: around, possible Wyver bias
Warning(s): he'll probably make a bad decision somewhere

A. (WYVER) hangin out

[Merlin lives in Wyver in a tiny single room and works at the dragon stables! He spends most of his time out and about with his... pet....... which is a Duldrum he took home from the jungle, but don't judge him and his beautiful child. It's a little taller than knee high at its full height now and follows him everywhere, trilling pleasantly. Feel free to find him...]

I. [In and around town, with the Duldrum, which he has to occasionally lift entirely over his head to not lose it in crowds where it gets super distracted. This is probably when he'll bump right into someone else, with, you know, a bird-thing raised up in the air. Uhh.]

—Hi, excuse me, I'm just- just trying to get through, before— no no no, what did I tell you about that? [This last part as he looks up at the Duldrum, which is clawing gently at his sleeves with its clawed feet. Now, for you,] Can you do me a favor and roll up my sleeves? Or down, technically, from this angle if you want to be picky— please?

II. [At work! Where he tends to the dragons with affection and gentleness, and deals with many visitors with the complete opposite. He's probably yelled at someone for trying to pet a dragon when they aren't supposed to and it's probably startling. While he works, anyone he hasn't seen here before miiight be getting a suspicious look...]

Don't put your hands in their mouths, please. [Like, obviously? But still.]

B. (AROUND) aggressive helping

[When word starts to spread about deserters, Merlin is compelled not to desert with them, but to go out and see what's going on. Plus, he gets to borrow a wyvern mount, so the correct choice is obvious. He and his borrowed steed, a glittering blue wyvern that seems responsive to his occasional murmuring to her even if she doesn't understand (he's working on that), can be found exploring the land between Olympia and Wyver. What could he be doing?! Well:]

I. [Just generally exploring, he can be found doing anything from having a picnic with his beautiful wyvern friend to loitering outside the Edrathe Ruins, trying to listen to that spooky noise while also keeping his wyvern calm. If you approach him while he's havig a cool picnic he'll offer some food, and if you come up while he's by the ruins, he'll turn and ask,]

Do you hear that or am I finally losing my mind?

II. [Quite literally running around a camp of deserters he's wandered into, helping as many people as he can at once. He has healing magic, sure, and a ring affixed with a stone that calms people down, but it's still his habit to put most of his efforts into actual medicine: bringing water, bandages, helping make and apply simple potions and pastes for wounds... He will exhaust himself with taking on every task and occasionally slapping down some magic before long, but calming down and taking a break? What a concept. That's not happening. In fact,]

Hand me that canteen, will you? There's about six more thirsty people here who can't fetch water by themselves, so let's get a move on.

[So, you're coming? Yeah???]

C. (OLYMPIA) it's stupid

[It's hard but not impossible to get into Olympia after settling in Wyver these days, but thankfully Merlin has a solution! A passport? An excuse? No, a really good disguise of an old man who has definitely lived in Olympia for years, thanks a lot. Catch him:]

I. [Arguing with a member of the Guard about this very thing, something that involves Merlin getting louder and louder and starting to draw a few more Guards' attention, concerned that this old man is going to start making trouble...

He may actually use magic to smack two Guards' heads together, and at that point he's going to need a hand getting out of there. What he does do instead of looking around to help is shout, louder, and climb up onto an awning overhanging the gatehouse checkpoint at this entrance to the city. Oh. Oh there he goes.]

Can't catch an old man, can you?! What are they feeding you rascals that makes you so slow and lazy?!

[Merlin....]

II. [When he's not questionably being arrested, he's doing something even worse: standing between two debating civilian parties and making his own commentary, loudly and to no one. It seems each time one of the sides says something about how to best attack Wyver, this old man is compelled to pipe up loudly with something like "You think that will work?" or "Oh, yes, that's brilliant."

People are starting to get annoyed.]

D. WILD CARD

Hit me up on plurk at jojoveller if you want to plot something! Or you can just hit me with whatever!! Merlin lives and works in Wyver, so he's around... chillin... if u wanna adventure with him, let's DO IT!!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm a cold w-- person.

[She shrugs, not particularly sorry about it. She's not particularly intent on getting him to admit to anything, either, so:]

. . . in any case. This is an admirable venture, but do watch yourself. I'd hate to come back out in a week and find you sick.

[hmm that's not suspect]

There has to be somewhere better for them to go than camped out in fields out here. I should hope it wouldn't take a week to find.

[Maybe the more isolated outposts are friendlier to civilians who don't want to be involved in violence? Surely, someone out there...

This is notably not his word that he won't overwork himself again, but never mind.]

[She hears that, buddy, but she's not his mother. She won't bully him too much, not yet.]

Is there something better, or simply blind hope steering them all?

[Have mercy. He shrugs, anyway, shaking his head after with a short sigh.]

I don't know. There's a place I know of that's a few days' walk from here, but it's still Olympia's lands, so I can't be sure.

[Maybe he'll go on a field trip and find out.]

I wish you the best of luck.

[Hey, Ros, why don't you offer to teleport him to that place? That'd be nice of you. It wouldn't take much effort and it'd be a real great thing to do for this poor exhausted twig, so--

Oh. No. You're just reaching into your bag to set the apple core down and get some water. That's . . . fine.]

And when they all get there . . . do they have a plan for what they'll do, these defiant refugees?

[No, it's fine, he has days to spare... getting all the way there from his home in Wyver, which is even farther.]

Live? Be happy? [The truth revealed: Merlin is a plucky idealist.] I can't say I blame them for not wanting to be in the middle of a war.

That's a very nice sentiment, but I more meant structurally. Does this location have running water? Electricity? Do any of these people know how to build homes, lay down pipes, grow food, stitch themselves up . . . it's all very well and good not to want to be caught in a war, but there's a difference between fleeing towards something and simply running blind.

It's one of those outposts— not the one they had the gala at, another one. It's further out, so maybe they'd be out of the way there. I've been there— they had enough room for two hundred or so of us, a while back.

[So it's... a maybe, on the space at least.] You'd have to ask them about what they know how to do.

[Well, that's far better than she thought, frankly, and she nods in grudging approval. They've something of a chance in a place like that, or at least more so than she thought they would.]

I hope it's enough.

[Both the outpost itself and whatever talents these people have among them.]

. . . I've been around when a city is founded. It's trickier than most people realize. That's why I question it; it's nothing to do with morality. I don't blame them for wanting to dodge a war, but . . . I simply hope they realize what they're undertaking.

[...Hm. Well, that's a good point. Merlin hasn't experienced the founding of a city but he's been around for the near-collapse of a kingdom more than once, so he at least has that frame of reference for what it's like to be caught up in it all.]

I'm not sure... [He hesitates, looking back at the rest of the campsite because he is about to doubt them a little and doesn't want anyone else to be listening.] I'm not sure they know how these things go. Some of the younger ones think they'll be going home sooner rather than later. I can't help them with that.

[He can pass out water.]

[God, he's so much nicer than Rosalind "just straight up talking and fuck em if they hear me" Lutece.]

No. You can't.

[That might sound negative, but she's simply affirming it. Truth be told, this idealistic boy reminds her a little too much of Robert-- not in mannerisms or speech, god, no, but simply the way he seems so eager to look on the bright side. It'd been Rosalind who'd had to bring him down time and again, much in the same way: by firmly telling him the facts of the situation.

Odd, to be in disguise as Robert and doing it.]

. . . though I hope for their sake that they're right, those younger ones.

[Rosalind glances back over at him, then sighs heavily. Uuuugh. Ugh ugh ugh, damn this stupid boy and how she's basically conditioned herself to be reminded by Robert about anything, this is the worst, she's so inconvenienced . . .]

Stand up and give me your hand. The outpost is few days travel from here, you said? Towards Olympia?

[The abrupt response makes him frown, but not because he's surprised; he knows he can't pick all of these people up and move them somewhere that will definitely be safe. War doesn't work like that, unfortunately, but he'd still like to try. There isn't even a guarantee that this outpost will take them, being as they are still deserters...

But, ah.]

—West, towards the coast. Not where the beaches are, north of there... [At least his mental map is sound. He doesn't know where this is going at all, but he obliges, standing and holding his hand out. Sure, why not.]

All right . . .

[She knows vaguely where he means. And hey, it's not like it's an instant process: teleportation takes time, and they can only move so far at each burst. So he'll see the landscape in pictures as they head west: bursts of fields, of sky, of odd animals and strange flora . . . it takes them nearly half an hour to get there, but soon enough they do.

(And because he's who he is, if he's waiting to feel anything magical from her, he won't: there isn't a thing magical about this. Though she does have an odd aura, almost like she's maintaining some kind of odd disguise . . . hmmmm . . . )]

Bloody hell--

[She's out of breath as they arrive, and drops Merlin's hand, panting sharply.]

[Alright, this is certainly the wildest thing he's ever done. Teleportation is something he's seen before with magic (although there was a lot more smoke and dramatics involved) and here on this world before with science! So he's entranced, more in a starstruck way than a confused way because he's never done this before, but hell if it isn't so cool. He can't actually do this, by himself...

But his wide-eyed wonder at popping in and out of all these places falters when they get there and his friendly companion seems to be having a rough time. Should he get some milk and cheese??]

Are you— are you alright? You look- [rough around the edges, quite literally, actually, but-] well, more tired than I am, now. Should I fetch something...?

[oh my god she's out of breath she's not losing blood WHAT KIND OF DOCTOR ARE YOU MERLIN]

I'm fine--

[And really, she wouldn't be showing this at all, except it's perfectly all right for Robert to get winded. Not a lot, but a bit. She takes a deep breath and rubs a hand over her face, ignoring the urge to push it through her (his) hair.]

It just takes a bit of effort, that's all. I'm perfectly all right.

[A beat, and then she adds in an amused drawl:]

What on earth could you possibly fetch me right now?

[HE'S JUST A YE OLDE!!

Anyway, he's still concerned, but it doesn't look like this is really an emergency... He wouldn't know how taxing it is to travel like that, but. Looks alright?

But since he's being sassed:] Water and a couple stools to rest on. One of them for your ego.

[Please... well, here they are.]

It's an ego well deserved. Don't sass me.

[But she's more amused than annoyed. She's still panting, and if he looks particularly closely, he might notice that her disguise is flickering around the edges, but that'll stop once she gets her bearing back.]

Come on. Let's poke around a fair bit.

Alright, alright.

[He'll sass again later, when it's the best time for it. He does notice something odd, but it could just as well be a side effect of the huge amount of teleporting, so he doesn't ask. Very mysterious.

This outpost, being further from Wyver than the one that hosted the gala, has fewer people living in it at any given time... but there are some people, still. Merlin is of course going to interpret "poke around" as "run his mouth," so,]

When we first got here they came out in droves to throw us a party— they really like doing that around here despite all the war they're trying to make. I don't know if they've all stayed, but they had places to sleep and plenty of food. And dancing, but that isn't going to help anyone survive...

Oh? No comment about how dancing lifts people's spirits and that it's vital to tend to the spirit as well as the body?

[It might as well be empty for how much attention Ros is paying the citizens.]

Not until they're all fed and have a roof over their heads, no matter how temporary, no.

[He's not that plucky, please.] Maybe in a week, if I haven't passed out in a ditch somewhere.

Please don't. I don't want to have to teleport you to the nearest hospital, not least of which because I'm not in the habit of rescuing anyone, no matter how endearing they may be.

[Still, this is all a lot better than she thought it'd be. There's running water, and she can even see a few buildings lit up. That pack of refugees might just find their move a successful one, if all those wild animals and injuries don't get them first.]

[As long as the people here don't run them off... but they're always here, far from the main bustle of the city, that there's a good chance they'll be less extremist in their war-related opinions.

Anyway, thanks for vaguely implying he's endearing, now he'll never stop.]

I'll just have someone roll me back into town, shouldn't take long.

[Too bad it's Robert and not Ros, huh!!]

Please. Gain fifty pounds and they might have a chance; as it is, you're far too skinny to be rolled anywhere.

[Yeah if only!!!]

Well then someone can pick me up and toss me. If I'm asleep I won't complain.

You know, that may be the first honest thing you've said this conversation. You're really not one for complaining, are you?

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