(no subject)

[originallutece]

Who: Rosalind Lutece (originallutece) & YOU
What: Various prompts for the month! Lots of quests, some open prompts.
When: January
Where: Wyver and Olympia

The Kids Are Really Not All Right - OTA, Wyver & Olympia, warning for drug use

I need volunteers. Age and sex don't matter; report to Rosalind Lutece. I'll be in both cities over the next few weeks; tell me where you are and we'll arrange something.

[So reads the notice posted on the network. Any volunteers will be given a brief talk explaining what they're to do: eat the pastry and have their behaviors recorded. She's amiable to any precautions that the person feels they need to take, but sooner or later you're going to eat a biscuit and get high, so.

Or maybe she'll eat it herself! It could happen! If she knows the other person intimately, she does so want to see what this does to herself; what kind of scientist would she be if she didn't?]

Olympia - OTA

The one where tensions are getting worse;

[It's not that Rosalind is so very vocal about her viewpoints in public, but even she can't hold her tongue forever. She used to be better about it in Columbia, but perhaps that's the problem: she's not in Columbia. And for better or worse, she refuses to get caught in the same trap and repeat the same behaviors that had made her life miserable in her old universe. So here she is in a public square, scowling as a man goes on and on about Olympian superiority. He veers from propaganda to sheer falsehoods, claiming that those from Wyver use black magic, and finally she can't hold her tongue any longer.]

For god's sake, if you're going to act like that, you might as well simply claim Olympians are divinely chosen-- and they're not, before you start. If you want to base your pride entirely on what borders you occupy, that's your own business, but do try and keep your facts straight.

[This, shockingly, does not go over too well, and Rosalind is suddenly the subject of a lot of angry looks and mutterings. Maybe come save her?]

The one where she heads to Edrathe Ruins;

Easy--

[She mutters it to her mount as they head towards the ruins. The pegasus has been skittish for hours now, but it's just going to have to learn to get over that; Rosalind has no intention of wearing herself out by teleporting all the way there. But the mount has a different idea. Soon enough it's neighing and stalling, bucking up as she tries to urge it forward. She hops off rather than getting thrown off, and the second she does, the damned thing bolts.]

Oy!

[There it goes, along with all her things . . . hopefully she's not the only one at the ruins, though. Or maybe you're just coming along yourself.]

Wyver and Olympia - Other, OTA

[All in all, Rosalind will be ducking through both cities, trying to keep busy and check in on those she's grown fond of. Feel free to make up your own prompt, or hit me up if you have something in mind you'd like to do!]

Comments

closed; aranea;

[originallutece]

I've a job for you that I need help with, if you're interested. 50/50 this time. Come to the usual bar at 7.

[That's the message she sends to Aranea that night. She's been in Wyver for two days now, and though she'd planned on leaving again soon, she might have to rethink that. Crossing the borders is getting harder and harder, and soon enough Rosalind is going to have to resort to trickier methods to get between cities. She refuses to choose; why should she? She has friends in both cities (she has friends; what an odd statement), she won't give them up.

She waits at a table, a glass of wine at her elbow, reading a book on local myths and legends. She looks rather unimpressed by it, frankly.]

walks in late with phoenix down

[unweave]

[ The text was fond — she wanted to get going on some more jobs with not-so-shady ties. She trusts Rosalind — enough to not fuck her over unless she asks nicely. So, she takes it as a serious matter, one that leads her into their favorite bar.

She comes in a little late, a small bag carried on her back. Before Rosalind can protest too much, Aranea appears — setting the bag down gently. ]

Hope you weren't missing me too much — would have been fine with this back at my place.

[originallutece]

We can head there afterwards, if you'd like. But I didn't want to inconvenience you if you weren't interested in the job.

[But hey, it's nice to have a glass of wine, isn't it? Rosalind gestures, ordering Aranea one.]

We'd be investigating a burial mound, stealing a few heirlooms and offering them to a man named Cree.

[unweave]

That's like you haven't come to know my go-getter attitude. Unless there's politics involved, I'm usually open.

[ Don't worry, she'll definitely appreciate the wine. However, when the glass is brought over to her, she's so glad she doesn't take a sip because she almost chokes. ]

Hold on — waitwaitwaitmmmm no. Do you know who that is?

[originallutece]

[She raises an eyebrow.]

Not particularly, beyond the fact he's stationed in Wyver. I assume you do?

tensions

[shikomizue]

[Murmurs of war growing not as the ravings of a madman, but the voice of the public, ring out as violently as artillery fire. Standing among the agitated crowd, Takasugi recognizes rhetoric he's heard many times before.

It always sounds the same. Everyone has a divine right to what they'd claim as spoils. Everyone wants to prove their strength to vindicate their pride. Almost everyone can find something to hate in the enemy.

And for those few who can't - a few caustic battles will change that.

This man's speech isn't much to listen to. He's heard, given, far more inspiring war rallies.

He's ready to turn away, fade into the crowd, when a voice cuts through the ranting. Her dispute is petty, but dissent is dissent, and the mood quickly sours; arguments rise in chaotic whispers, incomprehensible.

All attention has turned towards the woman, and there's no telling if it will remain as harmless as angry muttering.

Takasugi weaves closer, near enough to the woman to be heard and seen by everyone casting her their outrage.

Not that he's here to act chivalrous.

The crowd will only be soothed by hearing what they want to hear.]

Why? I doubt they do the same for Olympia. I wonder what sort of lies they're spreading about you all in Wyver...

[originallutece]

[It's impossible to tell right off if someone's a refugee or not, but Rosalind is willing to bet this man is one. Which makes his baiting argument all the more irritating, frankly, and she glares at him.

It's a good glare. People have melted beneath it before.]

Sorry, is your argument really boiling down to they're probably doing it too, so they started it? Only it's a bit foolish to try and start a war on a justification a five year old might offer.

[shikomizue]

[With the woman's ire clearly cast onto him, rather than the crowd, Takasugi shrugs. The argument is between them now, rather than one against a mob - and thus the extent of his 'saving' has been exhausted.

Her gaze is alight with anger, a threat that doesn't need words.

Takasugi smiles.

How could he turn away from such a sincere expression?]

Does it matter who started it? I prefer to make sure I'm the one finishing any conflicts that arise.

[He pauses, almost as if he's waiting for her to speak - but the moment she opens her mouth he resumes.] You speak as if there's any good justification for war.

So.

What is it? What would you start a war over?

[originallutece]

Don't give me a leading question. I've had enough of that from those idiotic surveys.

[She's really not making herself any friends. But it occurs to her (a touch belatedly) that as irritating as this man is, at least he's turned this into a one-on-one debate, rather than one person against a mob. Was that on purpose? She wonders. And if it was on purpose, to what end? Altruistic or selfish?]

I don't think there's any reason to go to war-- but if I had to pick a reason, it would be based on concrete evidence, not hearsay and rumor.

And yourself?

soemotional.mp3

[hannya]

[Majima often hears the soapbox hubbub in the marketplace square when he's doing supply runs between merchant stalls and the bar. While it's gotten significantly more toxic lately, he had no problem ignoring it until today, when a familiar voice rises up against the proselytizing.

No one sides with Ros, but a fair few people make themselves scarce as the barker and his crew close in, while others linger for a glimpse of what's to come before the Guard shows up. Majima growls to himself in frustration. He hasn't seen her since the gala, but of course she'd show up somewhere like this, still magnetized to trouble.

Before the barker can reach her, Majima steps between them, seemingly out of nowhere.
A few of his crew step off; some recognize him from the fight club, or remember his Olympian colors from the gala.]

Why don't you pack up for the day and take your bullshit to the temple? People might actually throw you some coins for it there.

i hate that this cr is now built around whitney houston

[originallutece]

[Truth be told, she isn't certain if she's happy or not he stepped in. She'd felt a thrill of fear at the way those men were closing in, of course, but it wasn't as if she couldn't have simply disappeared. As it stands, the argument is lost and she's seen as nothing more than a damsel in need of rescuing. That's not as bad as it would have been in Columbia, but still it prickles.

At least Majima's presence does something: the man hesitates, but without all of his men backing him, he isn't nearly as confident. He mutters something decidedly unpleasant, calling Rosalind a word he refuses to acknowledge, before turning to head off.]

I could have handled that.

this is your own damn fault

[hannya]

[Majima hears the little underhanded comments, and they make his fists curl and his teeth grind. The only thing that stops him from grabbing the man and dislocating his jaw is Ros piping up behind him. The red recedes from his vision and he turns around to face her, forcing the lines of fury out of his face.]

They've needed tellin' off for days now.

[And with the growing unrest bubbling across the continent, Majima has felt less and less like playing the part of the exemplary citizen.

It doesn't take long, however, for Majima to remember the last time he'd seen Ros, she'd been fixing his tie after they almost got caught fooling around above the dance hall. The surety in his posture slinks away a bit, and he glances off to the side.]

Guess the lab's keepin' you busy. [His ability to tease, at least, is still intact.]

[originallutece]

Hardly. And I can't even keep myself busy there anymore, unfortunately enough.

[She still feels a prickle of annoyance and fluster, but it's not enough to pick a fight. Instead she nods, inviting him to walk with her as she heads down the street.]

Which means I've been forced to look for any number of side-jobs.

» the kids are not all right

[ettersberg]

Are you quite certain it's safe?

[ nightingale -- thomas is aware that he sounds both old and worried. incidentally, he is both of those things. given that she's asked him to observe her while she takes drugs in order to ascertain their effect, he thinks that the 'worried' part is entirely warranted.

and it's not like he can change anything about his age. the real one, or his apparent one. ]

[originallutece]

Thomas.

[She gives him something of an unimpressed look. She hasn't eaten anything just yet; she's still preparing herself: clearing the table of anything sharp or acidic, just in case.]

It's a hallucinogen, as far as I can tell. Nothing more or less. I'll be consuming a fourth of the thing; the people to whom this was meant for scarf down two to three.

Besides.

[She offers a smile, ironic and sharp.]

I've already died once. What's the worst that could happen?

[ettersberg]

Ah. [ a beat. he considers her words, then lowers his gaze. ] Quite.

[ she's right, of course. and yet he will not apologise for the question. if there's one thing he has learned in his years, it is that sometimes, better safe than sorry truly holds. but after a moment, he smiles. it's a small thing, carrying an edge of amusement that is directed mostly at himself. ]

I'll do my utmost to record anything interesting, then.

[originallutece]

I'd be grateful.

[A beat, and then, amused:]

Don't tell me you're worried for me.

wildcards u

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket can't really operate freely in Olympia, but since he's small, he can be sneaky. Wearing a cloak and looking like he has a destination in mind makes him seem like a harried child that knows better than to talk to strangers, and if he's not overtly stealing or making a ruckus, the locals are content to just let him do as he pleases, probably cooing over such a well-behaved child.

Part of his "costume" today is a tiny makeshift wagon with a blanket over it to cover the very unchildlike collection of spare parts and assorted odds and ends he's transporting. It's a pretty normal sight- small child in a cloak, walking with purpose with his little wagon. Awww.

It's not a normal sight for a three foot tall cloaked "child" with a wagon to be knocking on Rosalind's door, however.]

im dying at this already

[originallutece]

[It would help if said child ("""child""") had warned Ros he was coming. Oh, she'd known he'd show up at her door at some point, but not particularly today.

So she blinks down at the cloaked figure at the doorstep of her townhouse, a touch nonplussed. When was the last time she had a visitor that she hadn't invited herself?]

Er--

[Oh. No. She knows what this is, but honestly, she'd thought this would end once she left Columbia.]

We don't have any silver for collections, or charities, or whatever it is you're selling. Try two doors down.

you befriended him

[beatupgrass]

[The "child" chuckles in a voice much too deep for a kid.] Aw hell, the Sanctuary's gonna be real upset to hear that, Ros'.

[He lifts the hood up just a bit, so if the voice wasn't a dead giveaway, the smug furry face is.] Guess I'll have to take my stuff somewhere else.

[originallutece]

Good lord--

[Well, and she takes a step back, inviting him in.]

Dare I ask what you're carting? I assume it's not sweets for charity-- come on, the lab is on the bottom floor.

t-t-t-t-tensions

[seagoing]

[She'd made her way into Olympia with only some difficulty, thanks to her previous life of smuggling and otherwise being unseen when she needed to be. And so far like everyone else had said Olympia was far nicer then Wyver, more structured and less claimed by nature. More people likely to have money to toss around for her benefit too, only it's been a shame that for the most part no one wants to give her the time of day.

Which would be whatever really, but this time around she hadn't done anything so far to even deserve it which just made it all really insulting.

So many people she knew had lauded the place over Wyver though, so she'd been determined to figure out the appeal besides the lack of dragons. Imagine her surprise when she hears a familiar voice, and she makes her way closer to hear it in an irritated tone met by harsh whispers and bellowed lies. A sticky situation if she'd seen one really, and she weaves through the crowd to get closer to Ros and to get a better look at the man and the surrounding crowd.]

Is there really any point in bragging about being better? Why not go out and prove it for yourselves instead of all this idle chatter, or do you all have nothing better to do besides listening to random gossip to feel superior?

[The looks she likely gets are just as nasty as some of the ones that she'd cared enough to notice when she arrived, but if they affect her at all it's certainly not visible. She has enough faith in Rosalind to be fine on her own, but she couldn't help but say something to such pompous thinking.]

[originallutece]

[At least she's company with her. She hadn't needed it, but it's lovely to have, especially in the midst of a crowd.]

That would require courage. Or the ability to do things.

[Which of course goes over splendidly with the crowd. There's more glares, but the speaker takes it as a rallying point: going back to claiming they need to demand their empress do something. Rosalind rolls her eyes.]

Come along. I haven't the patience to listen to the same things for another hour.

[seagoing]

People like this tend to be all bark and no bite. If they had any fangs they'd be using them instead of talking out their ass.

[Any gasps of shock or cries of denial she meets with a shrug and a roll of her eyes. It was the truth, or at least tended to be anyway. She goes along with Rosalind without any protest when she move to go, wanting to be far from ignorance as possible.]

I don't know how you managed even five minutes, let alone an entire hour. [She's a little impressed at the other woman's resilience.] I thought this place was supposed to be better than Wyver? I mean, it certainly wins in looks but the people certainly don't seem to match. Everyone's been looking at me as if I've stepped in something nasty or stole something, and I'll have you know I've been on my best behavior for once.

[originallutece]

Fervent patriotism is at an unfortunate all-time high lately. Though it helps to sometimes know what others are thinking.

[She'd never had the patience for it when she was alive. She still doesn't really have the patience for it, truth be told, but she's trying. A little, anyway. Sort of. Not really all that much, but Isabela doesn't have to know that.]

Are things not the same in Wyver?