• OPEN •

[carmesi]

WHO: anyone and everyone in solvunn
WHAT: mingle for the summoned, particularly the new people
WHEN: a day or two after the new summoned arrive
WHERE: in aloy's homestead—crossing some wilderness but close to the primary settlement
WARNING: TBA

A. THE JOURNEY THERE

The invitation to Aloy’s homestead is made shortly after the newly Summoned find their bearings within the Primary Settlement. Aloy begrudgingly agrees to it, but seeing as how their group has grown within Solvunn—it probably is for the best to be a little more open to the presence of others. Much like with the treehouse by the lakes, it’s good to know of another place further away from the settlements where the Summoned might feel comfortable enough to traverse into.

That is not to say that the homestead is very friendly to strangers, though. Aloy has set up tripwires, disguised pitfalls, snare traps, and other devices in the surrounding area, creating thus a challenging attempt for anyone who wants to travel there by themselves. Additionally, a way to avoid most of that (read: not all; consider it a bonus for getting close to the homestead) is to go through the arboreal parkour course that has been set up. A network of catwalks, platforms, and balancing ropes to traverse the woods. Reaching Aloy’s truly is a test of guts and skill. 


(Alternatively, travel with Wanda or Himeka—the path clears up for them. For the ballsy, follow Nero and Rocket; surely they aren’t scheming anything…)

And, past all of that, the woods will open up to a tall, spiky fence, about eight feet tall, and the gate will lead towards the homestead proper.

B. HOME SWEET HOMESTEAD

The seasons are turning, and while Solvunn doesn’t suffer from incredibly cold winters, there is definitely a chill in the air. Storm clouds in the distance by the coast rupture with booming thunder, bringing down the temperature quite significantly. It makes the bonfire burning outside a welcome source of warmth. Despite the threat of rain, there’s a strong chance the skies will clear up, as the wind picks up.

Within, Aloy’s homestead boasts the woman’s survival and technical skills. Making the most of her resources, there are meats hanging to dry, chopped wood on the side of the house, and animal skins splayed out that will most likely need to be stored at some point. The inside of the homestead is a simple affair, but for someone who isn’t in the business of receiving guests, it’s decent enough.

For today, the space—inside and outside—has a few extra wooden chairs and tables, picnic style, and they’re decorated with an assortment of food: recently harvested apples from the orchard, berries, roasted mushrooms and acorns, and more complex dishes thanks to Himeka’s arduous work in the kitchen the day before. At one point, a giant stew will cook over the bonfire, with meats and veggies, with bowls to the side for anyone to take their fill. Additionally, there will be grilled fish, flat breads, baked cabbage with lentils and, for those with a sweet tooth, apple pie. Wanda will also be sharing sarmale, a pot of goulash, spinach and cheese pastry—gibanica, and a table of assortments to build their own burgers. Additionally, there will also be apple cake and mandelbrot cookies. All in all? No one’s going hungry at the homestead.

But, worry not, all that food needs to go down with something. Barrels of mead and ale will be available for all to drink. For those who don’t want anything alcoholic, there is apple (and other fruit) juice available.

Make merry and mingle, new faces and old faces alike.

And, of course, please take one of the pamphlets.

C. THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING

Lightning strikes, and almost immediately the boom of thunder brings an eerie quiet to the homestead and the forest past its fences. There’s the awkward laugh the tries to break the silence, shaking the jitters away. Some are quicker than others in mobilizing, perhaps feeling the pinprick of raindrops that others don’t, and start moving what they can salvage from the food and miscellaneous items into the cabin. Some may choose to spare themselves of the rain, pushing the way inside or hiding under the roof’s awning at either side of the cabin; others may be entirely unbothered by the rain, as heavy drops fall fast from the darkened skies.

More thunder rumbles in the distance, roiling ever closer from the mountains in Thorne’s southern border.

A few Summoned might notice it first, that it isn’t really the rumbling of thunder that shakes the muddled earth. The grunts of approaching beasts are mixed with the sound of hooves drumming up in rhythm of an uninvited approach. Birds fly away in flocks as the mammoth boars make their way through the forest, inadvertently towards the homestead.

They are due their mating season, and traveling to the wintry mountains of Thorne has been delayed by the appearance of the beasts in the rifts, the journey now a toll on the boars as the continuous lighting and thunder confuses, frightens, and angers them.

They ram into the fence at different points, and chaos would soon ensue, but thankfully all the Summoned have their powers back.

Right?

D. CLEARING UP

After a few boars were felled, the rest scrambled and escaped, continued their path northward. Killing some of them was inevitable, but nothing ought to be left to waste. The skies clear, the waning moon appears over a colorful sunset, and the rain stops. The fire is built again in earnest, and meat is, quite literally, back on the menu at the grilling station, as per Nero’s helpful suggestion. Some fences need a little mending, and a general amount of cleaning up within the homestead needs to be done, too.

As sunset gives way to nighttime, the sky—once marred in dark tones of gray—gives way to a beautiful night sky, with stars and constellations to be delighted by many. Wanda will be offering to dry the wet clothes of those still sticking around, and Himeka hands over warm cocoa or warm cider, something for everyone.

Now that things have quieted down, and with folk sitting around the fire or standing just by the edges of it, Rocket and Wanda inform everyone of the letter from the Nether that they received—something, perhaps, so they can get a general idea of what everyone thinks; about getting involved, about helping, about Solvunn’s interests in all this. It’s not meant to start an argument, debate, or a long conversation, but it’s something to have everyone think about — to know that they might be sent off somewhere else, soon, for a while, and brace for the trip.

Those who have been in Solvunn for a lot longer will be around, to ask questions or start a conversation about what has happened, what is currently happening, and theories for their futures, here.

Aloy didn’t mention anyone can stay to sleep, though, so best feel ready to head back at some point.

Comments

• PAMPHLET VOL. 3 •

[carmesi]

Dragons 101

[aquaveiled]

[ The talk of the Nether has Himeka practically brimming with energy, even more than the impromptu hunt of the boar had been. She's eagerly chewing on said meat before she finds the right moment to stand up and address the gathering with what she considers the most important business of the request: dragons. ]

As Wanda and Rocket said, the draconae asking for our help with the dragons of this world. And in order to help them, we need to know them first.

I've learned that not everyone has seen or met a dragon before or even has them on their star--or sphere or world, however you like. If that's you, then don't worry! Not only are dragons actually from other stars to begin with, but they are intelligent and affable when entreated with and not caught in betrayal-fueled rage that lasts millennia.

[ If that sounds a little off-the-cuff with her delivery, what follows only continues the notion. Himeka's description of dragons is quick with her familiarity, but often...oddly choosy with the details she decides to share. ]

Dragons are scalekin but they're immortal and, as I said, actually came from another star. Midgardsormr brought his eggs over and then hatched the first brood. They are large and generally elusive, but one actually runs a very successful and economically forward nation. Which means that they can communicate with mankind should they choose to, but some prefer to speak dragonspeak--which, if you're interested, I can teach you a few phrases!

[ She starts to motion enthusiastically as she speaks. ]

All start out as dragonets which are about my size and very precocious. Depending on what they do with their life, they can change into all sorts of forms, including the kind that can properly wield pots and pans if they put their mind and claws to it! But those who prefer flight may become a wyvern and those who prefer to be large can become a wyrm and whatnot--which, for the record, I knew existed here and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Anyway! A dragon's roar is extremely important and can enthrall their kin and reach them across the star if need-be. Or mayhaps help wake up a long-lost mate from said thrall! Dragons are also immortal so mankind's daily squabbles seem foolish to them. If you take their eyes you can gain their power, but it's rude to do so without asking. You wouldn't want someone to take your eye, would you?

[ Himeka makes the motion of pulling her own eye out like someone needed the visual. ]

I spent quite a bit of time with the dragons on my star, and then the spirits of the dying dragons lingering at the end of the universe after a war had obliterated their star. Luckily they were able to regain a zest for life through finely crafted confectionery. Dragons of all shapes and sizes are not so different from us--they have hobbies, friends, families, dreams...and if our friends were ill, we'd want to help them, wouldn't they?

[ She clasps her hands together. ]

Now! Are there any questions? Or do you have dragons on your star that you'd like to talk about?

[nomnoms]

[ HIS HAND IS RAISED. ]

[divinityfrompain]

[ Julia listens to Himeka's explanation of dragons from her world, thinking at first she's talking about the ones here, but realizing soon it's from personal experience. She's still learning all the political parts of this, and already knew that this was the first contact.

The dragons she's talking about do sound overall nice. She raises her hand before speaking. ]

The dragons from my world are gatekeepers and wise, they are essentially immortal and long-lived and know a lot about magic. While they aren't openly aggressive, they do like to make deals in exchange for knowledge, and if you cross them or break the deal, they will eat you.

[ Which sounds pretty reasonable, if you think about it. You break a deal, and you know going into it that's the punishment, you reap what you sowed. Julia doesn't have any problems with the dragons from her world. One of them helped her go to the underworld. Her note about the eating is more about the oathbreaking. They take that extremely seriously. ]

But our experiences aside, I'm wondering what we know about the dragons in this world.

[durge]

( What.

Haelva's current experience with dragons is minimal, to be sure, but she's certain some of that does not apply. Which: )

What makes you so certain that your experience with dragons applies to those here? Where I am from, a dragon's nature is determined by the hue of their scales; most would not be worth consorting with at the best of times.

sandor clegane | game of thrones | strength

[dogmeats]

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖉

( He attends the bloody party. Not because he's feeling especially social, but because he's curious. And, possibly, somewhat, mayhaps a bit because somebody advised him to consider not entirely isolating himself, although hells if he'd ever admit it out loud to anyone.

Despite it being a voluntary choice, he's still surly about the whole thing. On the way in, he took one look at the aerial course over the trap-ridden path and barked out a derisive, fuck that. After arriving, he's made no special effort to speak with anyone, but rather to scope the homestead out on his own. It's well-made, clearly housed by somebody who knows how to survive, and he feels a grudging respect for them. Wouldn't be a bad idea himself, if he could be bothered.

He mainly hovers around the ale, filling a mug at regular intervals, probably putting down more of the stuff than nearly anyone else. He fills his plate too, with portions befitting a man of his near seven feet of height and absurd muscle mass. He seems to be favoring the goulash, though anything with meat gets its fair turn in his belly.

Despite his attitude and what one might assume, he isn't actually bothering anyone. He seems content to tuck himself silently away on the sidelines, holding his commentary to himself.

At least, until the boars come. )

𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌

( Truths be told, he considers leaving when he hears the thunder starting. Everyone's moving inside or huddling under the awnings, it's awfully cramped for a man of his stature. It's only the thought of those bloody traps in the forest outside that makes him abstain; only thing worse than being stuck in a social setting is being stuck in the woods in the middle of a thunder storm.

He's still waffling back and forth around the time the rumbling starts — and after a few seconds, he seems to be one of the first to perk up at the slow realization: that's no thunder.

It's fucking hooves.

This man, who's been otherwise quiet and content to keep to himself, whirls suddenly on the room at large and bellows out:)

Somebody give me a fucking sword!

( This, perhaps, is how he demonstrates what little value he's got to offer to the Summoned. It's a display of efficient brutality, surprisingly graceful for a man with his strength as he quickly, unflinchingly drives the blade into any beast who dares get too close to the gathering. He is, by the end, rather covered in hog viscera. Panting heavily, sore thanks to the last remaining vestiges of his injuries.

But he feels more satisfied than he has in days. )

𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖍

( Perhaps surprisingly, he lingers to help clean up the place. He's no carpenter, but he knows his way around hard work. Knows how to knock fences back into position. He rights any upturned tables, hefts any boar corpses to a more convenient pile.

And he does it all while listening intently to the Witch and the Raccoon as they fill the group in on the current political situation. He makes no contributions, it's not his place, not his business, not his affair, but he listens. Considers. Slowly, begins to form opinions on a place he had no real prior investment in. )

homestead reluctant homestead

[nomnoms]

IT ME. HAHAHAHAHA.

[ You are accosted by a seven foot tall manshark near the drinks and food. He shoves the pamphlet in your face, specifically the page with the drawing that could not possibly be mistake for anything or anyone else.

And then he's off. ]

what if i wanted 10 threads with sandor tho 😭

[carmesi]

[it's a little hard to focus with the storm and the commotion of people around them, but wanda catches on to what the brute of man bellows. it's striking—surprising—for he had been so quiet, but it's pretty clear pretty quickly why he wants a fucking sword for.

wanda reaches him in a few strides, expression set tight.

not to set him straight, not to give him shit, or make light of the situation. rather, to ask,]

How big of a sword?

you know i gotta

[wwrench]

Wrench, too, is quick to recognize the thunder for what it isn't. He's been caught in the midst of plenty of storms in his life, but he's never felt thunder quite like that. It doesn't roll in evenly; there are too many breaks and interruptions. Not that he has the first clue what it is, but when the big man in the corner rises up with a surprising sense of urgency, Wrench is quick to follow. He's been keeping away from the food despite the near-lavish amounts of the stuff, but he's helped himself to a couple of glasses of mead. That all gets set aside now in favor of investigation.

On the threshold of the homestead, the passel breaks through the treeline and Wrench watches like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. At least he knows what the hell they are, which is more than he can say for everything that poured out of the rifts a few weeks back. He's starting to get the sense that Solvunn might just be one wild animal attack after another. Aloy's probably got bows and arrows around and Wrench wouldn't mind getting his hands on one again, but for now he takes what he has on him.

Which happens to be a particularly compact tomahawk. It's kind of a once-and-done affair, but when he sees one of the boars approaching Sandor as the man buries a sword in another, Wrench aims and flings the weapon, sending it sailing and burying it just behind the shoulder of one of the things, straight into its heart.

BOARS

[aquaveiled]

[ The boars' timing couldn't have been worse. The storm rolling in gives them plenty of cover both visually and aurally, the sound of rain hitting the earth like so many little hooves in between the cracks of thunder and lightning. Were the weather more forgiving, she may have suggested a roast outright, but mayhaps that will have to wait until after the attack has ebbed.

If anything, it gives the newly Summoned an opportunity to strut their stuff, so to speak.

She may not have a sword to offer--and thanks to Wanda it seems like that is covered--but she can offer something just as useful. She thinks. Just as Sandor fells one of the boars with bloody gusto, another rears up to avenge it's fallen comrade. In that same instant, a wall of ice shoots up from the ground, taking the brunt of the boar's charge as it's forced backwards.

Himeka stands with her cane above her head, readying her next spell as small orbs that orbit around her like planets to a star shift from blue to a fiery orange. ]

You're not quite done yet!

very boaring — ;

[respiting]

Geez, dude, you are covered in hog guts. Disgusting.

[ Oh, shit, wait. Was he supposed to use his inside voice? Welp.

Rocket's studying the big guy covered in boar-everything with what might be a scrunched up expression, from big scary Drax-like form to the big scary sword in his hand.

He personally hates to kill any of the boars — they're just trying to navigate their position in this freakin' storm and head back along their migration path, (plus they're animals, you know, and Rocket's got a weird affinity for them for absolutely no reason he can think of) — but he's been herding them aggressively, and sometimes pointily, and the ones that lost all sight of reason only to die under Sandor's blade can probably still be used to feed the commune. So that's ... something. ]

Can't say it wasn't effective though, I guess.

wanda maximoff • ota

[carmesi]

A. THE ROAD

[as wanda was leaving the treehouse to head to the primary settlement, she stumbled upon rocket and nero definitely being up to no good (a shoven already in nero's hand). so... she just ignores them and walks out the door.

teleporting into the primary settlement, she gets to borrow a wooden wheelbarrow cart and two goats to transport the basketfuls of food to aloy's. she, personally, has never been to the homestead, but the directions are pretty straightforward, and she's got a trick up her sleeve to avoid entirely the traps that aloy warned her about.

benefits of magic and all.

a familiar face seems to be setting off on the same path as hers, and so, as the goats start following after wanda's steps down the path, she asks,]

Heading to the homestead?

B. MAKE MERRY

[her arriving before aloy is even back from her usual hunting and general exploring of the land means that wanda gets to set things up, from her end, for the foods and drinks. like an orchestra's conductor, she stands in front of the cabin, raises her hands, and lets her scarlet magic draw forth and create—from seemingly nothing—the wooden benches and tables that aloy can do whatever with after today. extra wood always comes in handy. her fingers flex and twitch with the twirling of her wrists, and she draws a tired breath as the magic subsides, pausing for a moment. a hand moves just under her nose, rubbing at the skin there—and she's satisfied to not find any blood. it seems that her visits to the shrines have been helping.

she starts moving items off the cart, bringing forward the baskets of foods, leaving the barrels for later. some mushrooms tumble off the basket she's carrying in her arms, and she glances over her shoulder, then casts her eyes down, trying not to step on them.

oops.]

Can you get those? [for someone with such formidable talents in magic, it's a little comical for her to not be able to transport mushrooms well enough.] Probably before the goats get them.

[ah, right. the goats that pulled the cart are currently eating away at the grass that they find around the cabin, but they're munching their way closer.]

C. QUIET NIGHT

[she and rocket have said what they needed to say, and she's feeling a little tired after the long day. clothes have been dried off, the weather is a little bit colder after the storm, and there's a lot of cleaning up left to be done.

himeka speaks about the dragons, others take up the 'stage' to say something, and so she retires quietly to the sidelines.

some tea would be nice.

and so, she heads towards the cabin and takes a seat on the steps by the door, a warm cup of tea appearing between her hands, as she stifles a yawn and, ultimately, fails. wanda is open to talk, but sleep is obvious in her green eyes, a paler touch than usual, with how sluggish her words and actions are.

in any case, she won't object to company, as she brings the cup closer to her lips.]

quiet night ('cause like 5 people have told him to talk to wanda)

[wwrench]

By rights, Wrench doesn't have nearly as much reason as Wanda to be so tired. Sure, he felled a couple of the boars a little while ago. (So maybe being a knife thief turned out beneficial after all?) But he also arrived to the mingle midway through and hasn't done a whole lot to make himself the most sociable of Solvunn's summoned. Nevertheless, there's nothing like a whole lot of conversation to make Wrench feel like he's being lulled into a trance of utter boredom. It's not that he doesn't care; rather, not entirely that he doesn't care. It's just a lot of words that sail straight over his head.

More than one person has suggested he talk to Wanda. He's been told a few times now that she's one of the ones in Solvunn who can answer any question. And while Wrench isn't sure he wants to go digging into the politics of this place, it's not often in his life that he's been actively encouraged to seek out information.

It's also not often that he's had such a clear route to communication, even if he's still wary of the whole thing. He's thinking at her before his feet even hit the steps, but maybe Wanda's heard him coming for many more paces before that.

Incoming.

Wrench still hasn't partaken in any of the food, but he's got a cup of the mead in his hand.

Good party. I liked the entertainment.

make merry

[arcaneward]

[ Her travel to the 'special place', as Nanaue had called it, had been, mostly, fun. She'd opted to forgo the traps on the ground and had spent most of her time carefully climbing her way through the trees, taking her time with each jump. It had gotten her there after some people had arrived, but Aerith is surprised to see that there aren't a lot of people there ahead of her.

Well. That means she can probably just.. help set up. Right?

A mushroom rolls it's way over to her feet, and Aerith crouches down to pick it up, following the trail of fungi with her gaze to Wanda, and Aerith brightens when she realizes it's someone she recognizes. ]

Sure!

[ It doesn't take her much time at all to gather up the mushrooms, and Aerith cradles them in her hands, trotting up to join Wanda. ]

Would you like some help?

quiet night;

[exuviage]

[ the steps are already half occupied by the time wanda arrives. the boy—because what else do you call the youngest (human) member of this mingle—sits just inside the light cast by one of aloy's torches, a cheap piece of parchment spread across his lap and a rough pencil with a core of charcoal in hand. the parchment is crowded in one corner with notes, trying to use as little space to make the paper last as long as possible. the shape of one of the mammoth boars is beginning to sprout from under the tip of his pencil when he looks up at wanda's approach with a sharp, cautious glance. then, it's back to the drawing, pausing sometimes: to look at one of the carcasses and judge the proportions as the shadows grow; or to catch the words in the lively dragon discussion when too many people overlap their thoughts.

if dan heng's not bothering wanda by sitting there, neither is wanda bothering dan heng with the quiet—he is content to let her be. it gives him his own room to think, thoughts churning in his head like the water of high tide on a blustery day, or in the wake left by scales breaching over deep ocean. his pencil moves meticulously as he continues to listen to himeka' talk about her dragons and sketches the profile of the boar, but the charcoal is imprecise and messy. it's cast a dirty shadow over the knuckles of his other hand from trying to keep the picture from losing too much of its shape. ]

esme frost • open

[cuckooo]

◎ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇯‌🇴‌🇺‌🇷‌🇳‌🇪‌🇾‌ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇪‌

[ esme frost is having a stupid day.

this is the third time esme has fallen, knees and palms stained with dirt and grass, because of a trap laid in the woods and if she didn't already hate roughing it, this would absolutely be what tipped her over the edge. she shoves herself up, again, wipes her hands on her trousers, again, and fixes her hair, careful to keep the dirt and grass from staining her hair as well.

frustrated: ] What is the point of being invited if it's inaccessible!

[ she keeps finding herself stumbling into these tripwires (third time really is shame on her) because her head is so empty that the silence steals away her equilibrium. she's never been alone in her own head before and it is disorienting, which makes this all the more frustrating.

she may or may not stamp her little foot. ]

◎ 🇭‌🇴‌🇲‌🇪‌ 🇸‌🇼‌🇪‌🇪‌🇹‌ 🇭‌🇴‌🇲‌🇪‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇦‌🇩‌

[ it's nicer than the underground, warmer, and zingo isn't there so she doesn't feel like she's being judged by a dog, so, you know. that's nice.

she is polite and tidy but overwhelmingly unsocial, seemingly more content to sit with a slice of apple pie and people watch, listening to the conversations around her instead of engaging in them herself. there are some people she eyes a little more intently than others and every so often a shimmering blue light flares in her eyes but it shorts out almost immediately, chased by a peevish moue. if she doesn't get her powers back soon she's going to lose her mind. patience is not her forte and she is poor company to have alone in there. tell her she is being unsettling.

at one point she can be found with a slice of apple cake balanced on one knee and the pamphlet on the other, dark eyebrows knit together and a quiet murmur of: ] Was Josselyn also a bird?

[ the vulture looks like a josselyn, what can she say! ]

◎ 🇨‌🇱‌🇪‌🇦‌🇷‌🇮‌🇳‌🇬‌ 🇺‌🇵‌

[ considering esme looks like she is made of bird bones and can be knocked over with a swift wind, when the boars decend she very helpfully... hides. if she had her powers, and really she is going to be stuck on this point until her telepathy returns, she could have been helpful, but it's not her fault she's been hobbled by the summoning!

regardless, she doesn't participate in the boar migration relocation but she does participate in the clean up. nominally, at least. she puts a railing back into a post and, in the interest of making sure it is secure and stable and not because she is ready to call it a day, she hoists herself up to sit on the railing, legs dangling. it might have jostled against the weight of the boars but it bears her lack of heft easily.

it's a beautiful night out and she's not looking forward to traversing the woods again, so she lets herself stargaze. ]

◎ 🇼‌🇮‌🇱‌🇩‌🇨‌🇦‌🇷‌🇩‌

( go where your heart takes you! esme is a telepath but it doesn't work right now so she is being generally a stroppy cow and just watching people suspiciously. hit me up on disco @ dostoevskyish or plurk @ baleinette if you want something specific. )

THE JOURNEY THERE

[nomnoms]

[ Nanaue, meanwhile, is having a delightful day!

The tripwires seem to do nothing to impede the massive manshark. He steps on and through them entirely oblivious, until he reaches the woman in distress. ]

You lost? [ he asks in his rumbly voice, looming over her in what could either be interpreted as menacingly or sincerity. He 'smiles' toothily. The smell is slightly unpleasant from a near distance. ]

Help, want?

home sweet homestead

[carmesi]

[it is a crime that the apple cake cannot be enjoyed with tea. the weather is perfect for it, and it gives wanda an excuse to join the young, blonde woman that sits and goes through the pamphlet.

with a warm cup that she sets down on the table beside the bench, wanda takes a seat next to the woman, nursing her own cup of tea atop her lap.]

Josselyn was a woman native to this land. The vulture was the Old God that was Summoned to execute her.

[to wanda, the events are just a matter-of-fact situation. it's a little lost on her how bizarre it must sound to those who are new. should esme open the pamphlet, she'll see the art rendition of 'wanda'.

she takes a sip of her tea.]

Nanaue mentioned he helped you find the way to the homestead. It's good to see that you could make it.

Julia Wicker | The Magicians | The Tower

[divinityfrompain]

Home Sweet Homestead

[ Julia used to love parties. And not the dorm ones, not really, although she'd take those. She liked the house parties where it felt more lived in and personal, so this seems up her alley. It's just been awhile. The last party she went to was thrown by Bacchus who insisted everyone be very, very intoxicated in order to get in. This will hopefully be much better!

She eyed the parkour course on the way in, managing to get around any of the tripwires and things with a remarkably unusual grace. It could be magic or something else, but there is genuine longing in her eyes as she looks are the course. It seems cool, like something she would see on a warrior TV show, but Julia is in no way ready for that. Probably. Maybe it's a challenge for another day.

She takes in the homestead and all the details with open curiosity, quiet in the start as she tries to force up her old extrovert ways. Anyone who comes across her will get a genuine smile and nod of the head, feeling a little bit like she's at a Freshman mixer again. Julia is dressed sensibly and is a petite woman with dark hair and hazel eyes who visibly seems pretty normal, but anyone with a sense for the supernatural might be able to see powerful divine energy sweeping off of her. ]

Hi, I'm Julia. Brand new part of the group.

[ She hasn't been here long enough to know who has been here for awhile or who is closer to her time, although she feels that people who have the same wide-eyed curiosity about this place might be like her. A glorified tourist. She'll eventually take a seat and chew on an apple. ]

Wow, this is an impressive spread.

[ She takes in the wide variety of food and drinks, clearly people put a lot of work into this aspect, and it does all look good and fresh. No processed food toxins in this farmville, that's for sure. Julia focuses on the sarmale and goulash, liking to try new foods whenever possible, and pours herself quite a large mug of ale. Usually she would want to drink juice to keep her mind clear, but considering the situation, fuck it. She's going to need that drink.

As she's sitting she looks over the pamphlet and laughs at certain points, running her fingers over the cute drawings on it. Whoever made these has a good sense of humor, she'll have to meet this Nero. Julia focuses on it, reading it more than once to be certain she's absorbed it. ]

Of course there were zombies.

[ Why not have all the weird things in one place? ]

BRING ON THE RAIN AND BOARS

[ Julia feels the change in weather several minutes before it becomes apparent, her advanced senses that she doesn't fully understand yet warning her. She springs to her feet, looking at the sky as it turns. ]

We'd better move inside. Everyone pick up something that shouldn't get damp!

[ There are parts of this set up made for the outdoors, but she hurries to get the food and move it in. She seems responsibly determined to move everything she can under the safety of the roof that shouldn't be left out. Julia doesn't hesitate from running out into the rain when it begins to get some last things or to help people move if they go a little slower. The strange thing is rain doesn't appear to fall on her heavily or much at all, like there is an invisible bubble around her.

That bubble does not last once the boars arrive, her attention shifting, and Julia watches them come with some mild horror. Her hands immediately come back and she starts tossing battle magic at them, not to kill though, most of it will strike them hard enough that it throws them off. She wants to herd them away from the group. It looks like her making strange gestures with her hands and then light shooting from them, including electric sparks of a kind too.

A group of them seem determined to destroy the fences and she runs out toward them, seeming far too small comparatively and fragile, except she puts her hand down into the ground nearby.]

Fall.

[ She murmurs to it, and one of the boars disappears, sucked into the earth. Another squeals and runs as the ground becomes weak under them, and she winces, seeing that the hole she made became a pitfall and the boar is hanging out fifteen feet below. ]

Oh, shit, sorry. I'll fill it in when I leave.

[ Probably. She will have to figure out how? Julia's only recently started to use this kind of magic. What a time to learn by doing. Later on she does manage, although it requires some scooping of dirt and a shovel rather than her managing to magic it. ]

CLEARING UP

[ The boar she trapped would be an easy creature to snag for some extra meat. Julia is not very good at mending broken objects, that's Q's thing more than hers, but she resolves to help clean up. Her clothes are dry since no rain managed to hit her and she stands there looking up at the sky with a mug of warm cider.

This is not the party she expected it to be, but in a way, it's better. Who would have expected a Freshman mixer-adjacent party that involved a wild storm, giant boars, and a perfect night sky?

She listens carefully to what Rocket and Wanda explain about the Nether and the request, but since she's new to this, she doesn't really know what to make of it or what is expected of them. Julia knows dragons herself and speaks up when Himeka shares, but it still seems uncertain if they should trust what's being asked. ]

I don't know, I kind of feel too new to vote, you know?

[ She says to the person standing next to her, fidgeting. Julia's not someone who lacks wanting a voice in things, but in this, she's so unaware of everything.

Julia helps clean up, staying later in order to do so, stacking plates and re-organizing the furniture to what she saw it when they first arrived. She only leaves when it seems like there is nothing more she can do as thanks for the event, but she is in better spirits than when she arrived.

It might be strange to see her go back in the dead of night, walking through the woods without fear, and if someone wants to join her to walk back they can. She's happy to. But she seems to be tilting her head back to listen as the wind whistles through the branches. Julia isn't hearing what she's looking for, but she is trying to hear. ]


WILDCARD

[ooc: hit me with whatever!]

clearing up

[nomnoms]

New? All friend Summoned vote!

[ This is the sage advice she will receive from the creature standing next to her, still covered in boar blood and gore, especially caught between his rows of teeth. One tooth he starts picking at seems loose, and eventually falls to the grass. ]

Arthur Hastings | We Happy Few | Hanged Man

[smilefornow]

Journey There

Oh dear. This doesn't seem safe at all. Arthur doesn't know what parkour is, but he does know he's had enough of scrambling up things and balancing on precariously perched boards and swinging on random ropes to last him a lifetime. He thought this was some sort of welcoming party....

He's currently standing rather frozen, having narrowly avoided falling into a pit. A surprise pit. Surprise pits are not, in his experience, common as party entertainment. Is he going the wrong way? He doesn't think so. Are there more? Probably. Also in his experience, people rarely simply make one surprise pit. There's generally a whole set of them. Is this some sort of hazing ritual? Some sort of religious trial? Well, whatever it is, it's not very neighborly.

Looking vaguely like a scarecrow in his Viking-esque tunic and trousers, he glances around looking for anyone else headed the same way who might be able to help....

Please help.

Homestead

This is not what Arthur expected. For some reason he'd imagined a country lodge. Some stately little manor off in the wilderness. This...well, this is more like the Garden District. If wastrels were all advanced Scout and Girl Guide graduates.

But once here, it does look like a gathering of some sort. With so much food. In Wellington Wells, a spread like this would cause a riot. No one has this much food! It looks like all of this could easily feed a whole holm. It almost doesn't look real. Good god, they were eating rats at the last party he'd been to. Well...a rat. There were only so many to go around, after all. It's occurring to Arthur that he might never eat another rat in his life. How lovely that would be...

He can be found either hanging around the food, taking very small portions initially - as though worried someone will take him to task over eating too much - or muttering over a pamphlet.

"Oh no, no no, this won't do...."

It's automatic. He's shocked by the front cover - you can't just write that! It's not the content that offends him - Arthur has, unfortunately, witnessed human sacrifice with his own eyes - but how plainly it's worded. Mentally, he's already rewriting it as though it were an O Courant article he's checking for publication."Our dear friend Josselyn," he thinks to himself, "has gone on holiday to recover from extensive work burnout...".

Storm and Boars

Well, this is a terribly unpleasant turn of events. Among the things Arthur really doesn't like, bad weather is high on the list. His month living in the Garden District had left him exposed to the elements far too often.

At least, he thinks, there probably isn't any toxic fog that comes up when it rains here. The land isn't saturated with poisonous run-off and dumped chemicals from Haworth Labs. Unsure of whether or not witches are a storm threat here. There's a strong possibility they are. But he isn't cursed by any witches here, so it should be fine. Probably.

He's still quick to seek shelter, too trained to get to safety when a storm whipped up. Memories of Wednesday Hill stir up to insist that no, this is terrible, he's likely about to die within the next half hour.

That instinct does not retreat any when he first sees one of the boars. That is a pig so large it would put even The Empress to shame. That is not a pig that Arthur wants to meet.

"Oh God, I escaped Wellington just to get eaten by a demon pig in the fifth dimension....And I like pigs!"

Aftermath

It's been a long day. Arthur is wet, he's tired, and he's still trying to get his heart to settle down from the horrible demon pigs. And now the sun is setting and every nerve that has been well conditioned by home screams that he needs to get inside. He has to firmly remind himself there are no bobbies, no peepers, no jubilators. And as far as he knows, no curfew here either. Good citizens do not have to be indoors as soon as it gets dark.

Besides, this place is a mess. It just isn't done to leave a mess lying around. While he's very unsure of his citizenship status - he'll have to ask who to talk to about that - he is a Good Neighbor. Good Neighbors help to clean up.

So awkwardly, cautiously, part of him still wary of being asked why he's out past sundown, he begins picking things up that have been scattered on the ground.

He's pulling his weight!

homestead;

[dogmeats]

He's been largely keeping to himself. Sandor's best attempt at polite generally means just not fucking speaking at all, so he sticks with that strategy through the journey there and through his first plate or two of food — piled heavily full, in direct contrast to Arthur.

And, of course, he'd read the pamphlet. Half of it's an inscrutable fucking mess that makes no bloody sense, and the other half's all child's drawings, but he picked up a fair amount of useful information from it. He knows the contents.

Which is why he knows it's utter shite, what Arthur's muttering over there, and he can't help from speaking up.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

If that pamphlet's to be believed, Josselyn is on holiday as much as Sandor is Jaime Lannister.

erik lehnsherr — x-men cinematic universe ( the hermit )

[heavymetals]

HOME SWEET HOMESTEAD — [ Erik is glad to see that he's not the only one wanting for a quiet, secluded life here. His trip was particularly easy, having come here with Wanda, but it's still not hard to see that it's distant from the Primary Settlement, and well-guarded in various ways.

Immediate impression is that he likes it. A lot, actually. It's simple, unassuming, practical. There's absolutely nothing wrong with any of those things. He hasn't even met Aloy but he's already halfway to deciding he likes her.

Still, he's not the most sociable of people. He doesn't know how to even approach anyone here, but he supposes he must. That is what he's here for, after all.

One thing that comes easy now, however, is displaying some of his abilities. Let's not go so far as to say that he's showing off, but... yeah alright, he's showing off. While you're distracted, maybe looking away or helping yourself to food, a fork will levitate from the table where some food is laid out, seamlessly floating over and landing perfectly onto Erik's hand. If you turn to look at him, he'll just smile, then use said fork to take a small bite from the sarmale.

Or, if you'd rather, find him helping himself to a mandelbrot cookie, looking both happy and wistful for the brief moment of a smile. Now he's the one distracted enough to be snuck up on without even realizing it. ]

THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING — [ Trouble comes quick, and with little warning. What seemed like distant clouds that should pass turn to roars in the sky, and Erik quickly tries to help others salvage the food. In a place like this, he can easily see why every bit is important, and honestly, he wouldn't want it to go to waste regardless.

It's while they're all busy with this that the boars sneak up on them, the sound of hooves at some point earning Erik's attention as he's carrying some plates inside. He turns to look out towards the surrounding woods, a worried frown on his face, only for his eyes to widen as the first of the massive creatures comes into view. ]

Watch out!

[ It's a yelled warning to whoever he can see outside, their backs to the fence just as it's brought down by sheer force. Erik doesn't think twice, dropping the plates and raising both hands to bring up a magnetic force field. It's not strong enough, not wide enough to protect the entire place, but it's enough that the creature slams right against it and ends up rolling onto the side, thankfully not trampling whoever was in its path. ]

Move!

CLEARING UP — [ The whole place is left a mess in the aftermath, Erik is surprised that people even want to keep the mingle going. He was ready to just head back at this point, yet instead they're roasting the killed boars and helping around with mending the fences. Erik opts to join on the latter.

He's soaked to the bone but hardly seems to mind; if what needs done is getting debris out of the way, he will do so by either using his powers or his bare hands, depending on whether or not he can find metal around. He's not half-bad at repairs either, so he'll try his best in putting the fences back together again too, turning to whoever seems to need help the most. ]

What can I do?

home sweet homestead

[carmesi]

[wanda had been observing the action around the tables, working as a bit of a guide to those who were hesitant in serving themselves. a bowl offered, and then a general explanation of what was part of the buffet. others were more certain about what they wanted and didn't really need her help.

she catches erik's eye when she follows after the floating fork. they're several feet apart, so all wanda does is snort to herself, because that's definitely showing off. her attention is quickly turned elsewhere, however, as she steps to the side at another summoned asking her assistance in some other endeavor away from the foods.]

I see you're enjoying herself.

[—but she does find the time to return, this time approaching him directly, by the time erik's having the mandelbrot cookies and looking delighted about it. hands tucked into the pockets of her skirt, her smile is mostly out of a bit of smugness stemming from the fact that the sarmale he had been eating and the cookies he's now munching on are, in fact, things that she made.]

How's the taste? The almonds aren't too overpowering?

haelva lueltar | baldur's gate iii | magician

[durge]

HOME SWEET HOMESTEAD

( It's been an age since Haelva had the chance to feast so freely. In truth, she can't remember the last time -- which isn't to say that Gale didn't keep them fed, but there's a difference between comfortably fed and the freedom to eat as much as one wanted, up to being sick from gluttony and excess. Not that she plans on doing that, but the luxury of choice has long been denied her.

She'll make polite company with all who approach as she helps herself to a fairly decent portion of fish and flatbreads, as well as two servings of the stew -- attacking it with gusto; it's easy to catch a flash of sharper teeth as she tears the meat apart, but otherwise, apart from the fact she's purple and has rather pointy ears, and is very obviously missing an eye, there's nothing odd about her. Or, well, not until she picks up one of the pamphlets and begins to read it, pausing very shortly into it. )

What ( She starts, rather delicately as she looks up from the pamphlet and casts a searching glance to those around her. ) in the Hells is electricity and why is not having it worth mentioning?

BOARFARE THE STORM

( It says more about the world she's from and Haelva herself than the state of affairs here that her first response to anything akin to an attack is to fight back -- she dislikes being taken by surprise. (The pounding in her head, the blood from what remained of her brain spreading across the floor under her cheek -- a dying thought that she would never let it happen again.) But her staff isn't here, and her powers have seemed as distance as the tadpole in her head; the one time she wished for it only to find it wanting. Or-- perhaps not, she thinks, feeling something akin to the Weave at her fingertips.

Ah. Her eye seemingly lights up as one of the board stumbles under an attack, watching it shake the ground as it topples over; she moves as if instantly -- her hand going to rest on its great head as she simply looks for the power within and without, and then simply yanks on what remains of the life in the thing, and smiles (before she can catch herself it is a sick, twisted thing that is smothered as soon as she is aware of it) as she feels the life drain from it. )

You may want to stand back. ( A word of advice to whoever is near, before she holds out a hand again and chants a phrase, echoing with power. The boar shambles to life in a flash of sickly green, shucking off its flesh as it pushes itself to its hooves once more. ) There we are.

( And she makes a sharp gesture, sending it barreling towards one of the other mammoth boars. )

CLEARING UP

( Once all is said and done, however, Haelva knows they're all to be heading back. She'd hardly want to impose further, especially seeing how insistent the camp owner seems to be about getting them all to leave. Easier said than done, Haelva thinks, considering the trouble people got into on their way here to begin with. She has an easy answer for that, however, and gestures that the skeletal boar she'd raised earlier should begin the walk back to the primary settlement ahead of her and whatever stranger should be unlucky enough to be close to her. )

I'd rather it take its chance with any more traps over us. A broken leg still takes time to heal.

WILDCARD

something not catching your eye? feel free to throw something else at me or hit me up through pm or plurk @ tsarcasm to work something out!

home sweet homestead

[heavymetals]

[ Erik is yet to get accustomed to this place, to all the differences from his own world, and to all the people he's going to meet here. It's not just the natives, but the other Summoned too, particularly those who come from wildly different realities.

Her question about electricity is just another reminder of those differences. His eyebrows raise when she casts a glance his way, and since there doesn't seem to be anyone else around, he'll try to be helpful. Better introduction than talking about the weather, at least. ]

That's a complex concept that would require some previous scientific knowledge. [ Probably more knowledge than he has, too. ] Electricity is a form of energy that exists in nature, but in this instance, what that pamphlet is talking about is the harnessing of said energy to power various devices. Lighting, heating, kitchen appliances, and so on.

Wrench | Fargo TV | The Hanged Man

[wwrench]

the journey there

Wrench arrives late, approaching the fortified homestead from the direction of the Secondary Settlement. It's not unusual that he's largely been missing for the last couple of days; despite no longer holding the title of one of the newer of Solvunn's summoned, the tall man hasn't exactly settled into a routine way of life around the commune. In fact, it's probably more surprising that he's decided to join another one of these at all. While the welcome that happened just after his own arrival certainly did a lot to orient him to this place, he doesn't assume he can return the favor.

Nevertheless, he's interested to see where Aloy lives. And rather than finding himself vexed by the myriad of hazards that try to keep him out, Wrench finds himself delighted. It's not entirely unlike certain "games" he used to play when he was much younger, though he knows enough to realize now that's a shitty way to describe his training. Still, it stretches a part of the man's brain and skill that he's been without for some time now, so he goes slow and proceeds cautiously, searching for the glint of hidden wires and collection of underbrush that looks too out of place to be put there by nature.

He doesn't manage to avoid them entirely, however, and arrives to the homestead nursing a small gash on his leg. (Though perhaps that doesn't explain the blood around his shirt sleeve.) Despite it all, he seems happy enough as he looks for some water to clean himself up and examines the bound and stretched animal skins drying in the autumn air.

home sweet homestead

Just like the last time, Wrench mostly ignores the food. The spread is nothing short of utterly impressive, but the tall man only pays a cursory glance at the various stews and sides and desserts before settling on a glass of ale instead. He nurses a couple of those as he takes glances around, trying to determine who seems the most comfortable and the most out of place. There are plenty of faces that aren't familiar to him, both new and old. From time to time, folks might catch him staring placidly in on their conversations like he's eavesdropping. He isn't. Probably.

More than that, he can be found examining their present surroundings. Everything about Aloy's homestead is a fascination and a delight to the man who spares no interest in examining the construction of the building and the varying states of an array of different hunted animals. At some point he can be found using a sharpening stone to abrade a couple of knives he picked up at the last mingle.

clearing up

In the aftermath of the boars, Wrench isn't wondering whether the group of them reacted with too much force. He felled a couple from the passel himself, and can be found making easy work of carving them up for the fire. It's not a pretty sight, but Aloy has plenty of supplies to aid in the process, and the tall man works silently and efficiently to hang the downed boars by their hooves with rope and start the skinning process. If no one objects he might pack some of the offal to take with him, but he could be convinced to spare any parts or drain the blood for keeping, if asked.

When conversations turn to politics, he can be found with his eyes glazed over, digging into a few pieces of charred meat. Seems he'll eat if he butchers it himself, at least.

home sweet homestead 'bout to turn sour (as discussed!) —;

[respiting]

"Hey!"

It's that glint of something shiny that first catches Rocket's attention, has him immediately zoning in on the big guy working on what appears to be a pair of knives. And upon closer inspection of said pair of knives (turns out a genetically enhanced raccoonoid has some really baller eyesight), Rocket can only identify them as two from his personal collection. He'd lent them out for the games last mingle, but he'd surely expected to get all of them back.

And then he'd discovered he was missing not just one of them, but two.

Of course, when the guy doesn't answer, doesn't even look up (what an a-hole!) from fiddling around with what rightfully belongs to him, Rocket makes it his business to come right over and confront the thief. With all 3'1" of fur and claws and heavy muscle.

"What the fuck, man? I was looking for those everywhere!"

Never mind that he definitely has eighteen other identical throwing knives in his collection, it's the principle of the matter. Honour among thieves, and whatever.

Nero | Devil May Cry | please come to his cool obstacle course

[ofthesword]

The obstacle course.

[If anyone asks Nero, he will vehemently state that Aloy's little baby course is not what inspired him to take on building his own. This was entirely his idea. And while he went through her course, it was a little too easy -- which isn't necessarily fair when a guy has wings, yeah, but he did it without them. It's not like he shows them off in public. Only Steve and Aloy themselves have ever seen.

Still. That was, like, novice stuff. The Summoned in Solvunn need to bulk up if they're going to make sure the pit incident never happens again.

And maybe Nero needs a new project after he's successfully built his own sauna. It's nice, if you ask him. He's made good with the weird moss ferrets that originally lived around the area he's built it in, so it's not a strange sight to see one or two hanging out near the heated water.

Now his new pride and joy is this obstacle course, set off a bit from Aloy's cabin but with a path Nero dug leading to it. Upon walking up to the clearing, it looks a lot more Ninja Warrior than not. There's a series of swinging logs, trees creating a zig-zagging bridge over a pit, and -- actually, there seem to be a lot of pits, deep enough that they're simply black with darkness at the bottom. (Some of them might have spikes, but Nero did not add those.) A part of the course looks to be an open field -- but upon closer inspection there's small, blackened pits that look shocking like small explosions have gone off, bringing to mind a minefield. And is that a pond with snakes in it, and only a woven bridge of vines to cross it?

Maybe.

At the beginning is a small sign that says "NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR INJURY OR DEATH." Good luck trying to sue him, anyway; Solvunn doesn't have lawyers. It's the brainchild of Rocket and Nero, and the demon hunter can more often than not be found running it himself, or sitting by the entrance nursing his newest wound while it heals.] Hey, everyone gets one shout before I come pluck them out. So just yell whatever you think'll get me runnin' faster if you get in trouble.

Passing out brochures.
[Nero's moving through the mingle, more often than not with half a roll of bread hanging out of his mouth, and a pile of brochures in his hands. He peeks at various faces in the group until he picks out someone he doesn't recognize, or who he does who needs a new one.]

I updated it. And it's got the original info if you need it. [He's already pushing a brochure out to the next person.] I mean, the important stuff.

Boars vs. man with energy of 30-50 feral hogs.
[Nero took it upon himself with a sort of excited energy he has for very few things to pick a fight with one of the biggest and baddest boars that came to ruin the mingle.]

Hey, porkchops! [He buries his sword in front of him into the dirt, revving the engine in the blade's heft. Is that the sound of a growling motorcycle engine? Coming from his sword? As it sparks to life, splashing red light across Nero's face, the answer turns out to be yeah.] This party's invitation only!

[It's actually not, but it sounds cool. And while he's all ready to cut this boar's head clean right off, he's distracted by someone coming too close.] Watch it! I didn't come here to watch anyone get gored. It's a mood killer.

obstacle course

[carmesi]

[wanda hears about nero’s little venture into getting the summoned killed, and it’s not until a few hours later when he still hasn’t returned that wanda makes her way towards the obstacle course that has plenty of others talking about—either excitedly or with dread.

she certainly isn’t dressed for this, in her skirt and sweater, but she approaches nero (and rocket, should he be around) nonetheless.]

What do I get for doing it without using my magic?

[yeah, she’s up for the challenge.

don’t laugh.]

dan heng; honkai: star rail; the high priestess

[exuviage]

✦ the journey there (closed to aerith) ✦
[the first tripwire had been quaint. the third, an annoyance. the fifth was preceeded by a well disguised pitfall, and based on the uncovered one about forty meters back, probably full of spikes too. he's sooo joever it. the only thing keeping him from turning around and going back to his loaned rooms above the old blacksmith's shop is the prospect of gathering more information about the other summoned... and the food. anyone in a similar situation has to have better answers than the locals, who reacted to his first questions with awed stares at his horns and gifts of wine, putting him off the experience for a good while longer.

so, so, so, to the mingle he goes. but he doesn't have to follow the treacherous road much longer, as the platform up in the tree seems to lead from one to another, and the jute cords wrapped tightly around each trunk are spaced just so that a person with enough guts could reach each one, even without a way to increase jumps. it just might work! his "boots" are the only concern, as the leather wrappings and cords holding them up just don't have the same support as his sneakers, but it cant hurt to try, and he can adjust them if he needs to...

so, so, so, up the tree he goes. he was right, the boots are not suited for it, and he has to pause and try to re-lace the cords properly when he hears someone else crashing through the brush below, and then starting to scrabble for the tree.

as aerith is attempting to make it up the last bit of the ascent to the parkour course, a cool hand extends itself down from the platform to offer assistance. it's attached to an arm, which is attached to a body, which all belong to a familiar, but rather ordinary looking face. ]

Careful. [ and she's definitely heard that voice before. ]

✦ home sweet homestead ✦
[ once they make it to the homestead, after an... eventful trip through the canopy, that reminds him more of trailblazing with march than he'd be willing to admit, at least there's food. a lot of food! and dan heng's doing his part partaking of the bountiful spread. like, a lot of it, in typical(?) teen boy fashion. and he isn't picky either, as he tries all of the dishes at least once. but without the pointed ears, or the horns, or the weird glowing eyes... or the fantasy cdrama mullet haircut... dan heng just looks like a normal human kid. he minds his own business, watching the others move around, listening to them talk. just observing, with the subdued caution of someone in a new place who is trying not to stand out.

as he becomes more comfortable with the whole situation (and after he's managed to snag a second helping of grilled fish), he directs his attention to someone nearby who isn't also holding a pamphlet—assuming that those with the pamphlets are new, just like him—to ask a question. ]

The other two territories mentioned are...? [ he taps a finger on the second bullet point on the first page. ]

✦ the storm that is approaching ✦
[ actually, you know what? if everyone else is going to show off powers, and he still can't find cloud-piercer when he reaches for it, dan heng is just fine letting the others play hero. he doesn't look strong enough to do damage to a boar three times his size at the shoulder, anyway. instead of wading into the conflict, he stays out of the way, giving flashy magic as wide a berth as he's trying to give the boars, the remaining pamphlets in hand to avoid wasting the paper to keep nero's hard work safe.

the urge to collect literature of all kinds and catalogue it is not the domain of trash kings alone, after all. ]

✦ clearing up ✦
[ dan heng is suspiciously absent from the firelit dinner area as discussion turns to dragons. he is instead chilling under the eaves of aloy's shelter, safe from any potential further rain, trying to copy the contents of the pamphlet onto his own notes, leaving plenty of room for the new annotations he collected by talking to the fellow summoned dinner guests. his wax and charcoal pencil freezes mid-word when rocket and wanda describe the draconae, starting up a moment later to finish the sentence, before he sets it aside to listen properly. notably, he does not make to involve himself in the question asking, in contrast to his questions about the information in the pamphlets. ]

(ooc notes: o/ standing warning that i am a slow tagger, but an enthusiastic one. dan heng arrived looking much more interesting than he does now, so if you want to handwave a brief encounter, please dont hesitate to dm me on plurk @ rashoumon, or in the discord server! )

none of the above. haha.

[durge]

( haelva is tending the counter of the healing leaf when the door chimes, and she blinks at the teenager who's entered. [ PERCEPTION CHECK: 2 ] she has never seen him before. not ever. )

Yes?