An Evening Gathering

[photophobic]

WHO: Anyone welcome to wander around Castle Thorne!
WHAT: A little roundtable-townhall-mingle, a space to share information and discuss the Situation
WHEN: post-Horizon, after the new arrivals turn up so they can join in
WHERE: Castle Thorne's Dining Hall
NOTES: A little like a group therapy session but not, all characters will be invited to share anything they would like about their experiences and ask each other questions. Afterwards the group are free to mingle and discuss freely (just reply to the post itself). Let's bond, learn, complain about our new body parts and swap the hot goss!

---

The invitation spreads easily enough among the Welcomed (and those of the formerly imprisoned who have since earned a pardon), thanks to the cheerful efforts of everyone's favourite bard and the ever-grinding rumour mill: tonight, anyone interested in participating is invited to remain in the dining hall after the evening meal to discuss recent events. Depending on how far along the game of telephone the invitation is by the time it reaches any one person, further details may be difficult to pin down. It is clear at least that this meeting isn't being organised by Ambrose or anyone else from Thorne, though there's no effort to keep it secret from the inhabitants of the castle either. A call to arms this is not. This is not the venue for plotting against the establishment— seditionist talk is best left to the privacy of the Horizon.

Anyone choosing to attend will find the evening meal proceeds as it usually does. As the plates are cleared, though, the table becomes the setting for something of an informal discovery session, a meeting of minds. Everyone here is welcome to take a turn to speak if they would like, and to ask any questions they hope someone else may be able to answer. As the imprisoned are unable to attend, a recording is being made. However, going on the record is optional. Anyone who would rather keep their thoughts transient and non-incriminating is welcome to speak up without fear of being caught on tape.

The meeting breaks up once everyone has had a chance to speak, leaving plenty of opportunity for less structured discussion. Hopefully everyone can go to bed tonight feeling a little more informed and a little less alone...

Comments

INTRODUCTION AND YOUR HOST, JASKIER

[cointosser]

[Jaskier has been preparing for this moment for several days. After Kylo approached with the idea -- and how flattering it was to be thought of as a helpful barker by a relative nobody -- the machinations had begun moving on their own. It was a good idea; something that may bring the guests a little closer together. So to speak. Even if it was quite below his usual fare. Circumstances, of course, have hcanged.

And it yet may give him a more accurate answer for Estinien, for Geralt. On how many had invested their hearts in prisoners. Of who would help.

The idea of being the center of attention was, of course, the opposite of what Geralt had told him to do all those weeks ago. Well, perhaps it would be surprising to learn that a) Jaskier often did not do as he was told, and b) he was not missing the opportunity to cater to a hungry (metaphorically speaking) crowd. Nearly a full season and his friend was still locked away. Looking a bit more like shit every day that passed.

Something must change.

So he passes the news on to anyone who may pause in the hallways of Thorne's castle, whether he recognizes them as honoured guest or one of the released prisoners. It was a ... how had he put it? An invitation to a. Group discussion. Alternatively: an airing of grievances. A conclave, sort to speak, held after the usual nightly feast, held out in the open. Certainly no threat to Ambrose or Thorne itself, of course.

As the scheduled night begins to draw its curtains, Jaskier, having brought his lute with him -- not a rare sight, to see him even walking the halls with it on his back -- stands up near the head of the cleared banquet table, taking a bow. A few plucked notes, he hopes, gains enough attention that he can be heard through the room.]

I'm sure you may be wandering the merits of this meeting. Well, of course, one benefit is you'll be able to listen to me -- worry not, my friends, this time it is free of charge. [He plays off a few pretty notes, and then holds his hand to still the strings. It may have been a joke, if you don't know him. If you know him, it certainly was not.

He smiles dashingly, indicating Kylo Ren sitting next to him. Perhaps one might fondly refer to it as hulking. Jaskier knocks him on the chest with a few beringed fingers as one may knock politely on a door.] My dark, colossal friend here has pulled together this idea in a way of allowing us to become closer. Together. [There's an emphatic emphasis on the word.] Through my experiences in speaking with a few of you, I have come to know we have a rather fantastic range of knowledge to share. Whether it be the differences in our spheres, our... our worlds, or our unique experiences here.

[A few quaint little chords play to catch anyone who may not be paying attention. And because he has to show off.] While I have not the honour of ever leading such a discussion, I am happy to stoke it.

[He glances at Kylo Ren in a final question of whether the knowledge he gained is right to share. A small nod.] Using a skill I'm sure he'd be quite enthusiastic to explain, we have some confirmation from Ambrose himself -- perhaps not intentionally given -- that our purpose here, in Thorne, is to go where the denizens of this plane cannot. That is, into the Horizon, via the Singularity. Perhaps you already have put two and two together considering the man loves his speeches -- ah! You're a smart one, aren't you? One certainly can't blame our high Magician for such fantastical fantasies, can we?

[Another emphasis, but it's less emphatic. A little more put it together, nitwits, he's using us for power. If one is slow on the uptake.]

And perhaps you have not heard that some of the less fortunate among us, [He indicates with a tilt of his head to the prisoners below them] have discovered a helpful spell a mage in Thorne can perform to locate those of us with a less savory reputation, when needed, by the very Signs we hold within our hearts? Ah! And one could imagine they were only meant to be quirks based on one's personality!

[They're tracking the prisoners, by the way, so don't fuck around and find out, maybe? Maybe learn to escape very, very fast, if that is your plan? Jaskier imagines they must be tracking the guests, too, but he hasn't heard whether that's been found to be true or not. Why only bother with the effort on one side of the proverbial fence?]

Now! I make a call here, for the greater good in this moment, that we may put aside any, ah, differences we may have had in the Horizon, and come together a tad more cohesively. So, please! [Now he begins to play music, chipper and upbeat, the lute's notes echoing faintly as his fingers move swiftly.] I have shared part of what I've learned. I now invite all of you to do the same. And if you have questions, speak up. There may be little time for them to be answered in the future.

[It only sounds vaguely dark, put that way.]

SHARING THREAD!

[photophobic]

(The floor is open! If your character has a topic they would like to raise, a question to pose or information they would like to share with the group, you can post their turn to stand up and address the gathering as a reply to this thread. Other characters can reply to ask the speaker any questions they might have, a bit like a Q&A session.)

[photophobic]

[After Jaskier's colourful introduction, the group may not be quite as surprised as would otherwise be expected to find it's the castle's storm-faced and not at all social Kylo Ren who stands next. He's rather irritably aware that if it weren't for Jaskier's help it's unlikely many would have been willing to come, though he does his best not to look too sour about it.]

The Master Bard has it. We can only benefit from gathering together the knowledge we have of the Singularity. Of this world and its people. We've been called a boon. And we are. But our presence here is a risk Ambrose has taken. I see no reason to doubt him at his word when he says that we are necessary for his purposes, that he sees no better way to investigate the Singularity than to rely on us.
I felt it.

[He pauses, a little ominously. It's not necessarily deliberate.]

If he had the ability to cross the border without being destroyed, he would do it in an instant. Our purpose, then, is to gather information he cannot reach. Ambrose doesn't know the Singularity. He can't touch it as we can. The answers to our questions, if they exist, will be among us. In our experiences. The— [he pauses, very carefully not looking at anyone in particular's horns, or wings, or whatever else the Singularity has bestowed on them] —changes we've undergone. We can strengthen our position by pooling our resources and examining the patterns. Together. Here and now. That should be our priority.

[And with that, Kylo yields the floor. He'll answer any questions, but looks otherwise very ready to listen.]

[nightwash]

[ Ronan, seated on the other side of Kylo, spends a good deal of Jaskier's opening monologue scowling in the direction of the bard. When it's Kylo's turn, he allows his attention to drift over the faces gathered around the table, gauging their collective response with a keen eye. And when it's his own turn to speak, he sighs and raps his knuckles on the tabletop a few times while he searches for what exactly he has to contribute here. Certainly no new information on the Singularity or Ambrose, but quite a few secrets of his own, buried for so long that it feels strange and slightly terrifying to throw them all into the light now. ]

I don't know how useful any of this is gonna be, but whatever. In my world, we've got these things called ley lines. They feel a lot like the Singularity, but stretched thin, like intersecting roads all over the world. Magic gets weaker the further you get from them, or when their energy is blocked, et cetera, et cetera.

Anyway, my point is the Singularity's like a ley line times a billion. And even though it's way the fuck out there and we're way the fuck over here, I can still feel it like it's close. That's a shitload of power, at least according to the rules of my universe. I can't be this far from a ley line and feel it like that.

The bright side of that is it means my magic's really strong here. Fucking supercharged. So if you need something, like... uh. Anything? If there's something you need and it doesn't exist here, I can get it for you.

[ Sarcastic jazz hands. Abracadabra. ]

That's all I got.

[not_caroline]

[When Coraline gets wind of the entire event, she makes a point of getting there early. Tape recorders are a little before her time but she's not so technologically inept that she doesn't know tapes have a B-side (though admittedly it takes some experimenting to make sure she's actually taping the right side), and so when Jaskier starts talking there's an unfamiliar sound playing behind it, and a decisive click when he stops.

She wants to try and record as much as she can for - what's the word? Posterior? Posterity - to let everyone else who doesn't get to be present know what's happening. So she makes a point of running up to people when there's not someone going off to get their attention with a light touch on their arm.]

Hey- if you get up to say something, can I record it? [And she'll hold up the recorder demonstratively.] So we can tell the others later.

[Notably, she doesn't turn it on when she speaks for herself.

She spends the whole time perched on the table with one leg drawn up to her chest and one arm wrapped around it while the other flicks the record and stop buttons: until she finds a gap in the proceedings, and makes her own case. When she stands on the seating bench, it does not add an impressive amount to her height.]

Anyone who saw a little tree girl while we were all over there... [She straightens her back, sets her shoulders and refuses to let her fear overtake her.] That was me. I don't-- wanna go too in-depth, there's a lot going on there, but magic is real in my world, and I'm one of the people who can use it. We're called Changelings - people who got taken by-- by the Gentry, or- Fair Folk, whatever you wanna call them. Only we got out, and now we're... [She gives a too-casual shrug.] Different. Magical and shit.

And Horizon felt a lot like part of my world - it's like a dreamspace, kind of, or Arcadia, where the Gentry live, it's not... real. Really real, like being awake and aware, it's... more, than that. Not-human, it's all magic, all... power.

[And an edge of defiance crosses her face, despite herself. All that power, that the mages here can't use.]

In my world you could use a space like that to... to gather energy, steal people's memories and secrets and travel between their dreams to entirely different parts of the world. Make weapons, by leaving stuff there to absorb the energy of the place until they're different too, and fight. You could destroy someone from the inside out - if we can learn more about how to use the Horizon properly. That should be our goal.

[stealsthetruth]

[At some point or another Kay makes her contribution to the proceedings, impatiently cutting in the moment she sees the slightest opportunity for it. She's standing up on a chair for better visibility and voice projection, arms crossed at her chest, a gravely serious expression on her face.]

Is no one else going to mention that prisoners have started going missing from their cells? Because it's true, in case you hadn't heard! That's happening! A friend of mine down in the dungeons told me that a few days ago a friend of ours named Relena was taken from the cell by a group of guards, and no one has seen or heard from her since!

[She can't keep the sadness off of her face after that, adding in a softer voice:] If anyone has any information on where she is... Please, let me know. The guards won't tell us anything, and... Me and her other cell-mates... We're all worried about her.

[necrosaint]

[ Harrow doesn't speak up at first, for once in her life—she doesn't know all of these people and doesn't trust very many of them, nor does she paint a particularly trustworthy picture between her looks (it's the skull face paint, right) and her guard (a combination of one human cavalier and four animate-appearing skeletons) ... but when some of the discussion has died down she does raise a fingertip for order and wave a hand down to the pile of notes she's brought with her.]

I indexed the library. If anyone wishes to see the compendium of what has been mentioned of the Singularity across Thorne's history. I found that it was all very ... not to be punny, but singularly oriented, with no alternate views presented or allowed which means it may not all be true, but it is a reasonable place to start. Simply take it with a grain of cautious salt, perhaps.

[ She has copies, so she's content to leave those notes for other people to read. Harrow's handwriting is very precise and perfectionistic, but that's helpful for other perusers; she has questions written in the margins, and notes about what could also be gleaned from trying the libraries of other peoples as well. Some of the commentary is useful, some of it is insulting the historian's ego leaking into the narrative. Pot, kettle. ]

[OOCly, I have a line here to the mods about what might be in these notes. :)]

[iobject]

[People who met Phoenix in the Horizon will notice he presents very differently in the material world. His hair is kept neat, his face clean-shaven, and his clothes semi-business casual. He listens intently, his face serious.]

I'll admit, all this Singularity stuff is way beyond my pay grade. The most magic I've ever dealt with was with mediums who channeled spirits of the dead. [He throws it out there casually, like it's no big deal. Because it isn't for him after how long he's worked with the Fey family.]

What I do know is how Thorne's legal system functions... or how it's supposed to function. Ambrose has the ability to just put people in and out of prison on a whim, but most other people need to deal with trials and due process. I've been trying to talk Ambrose into letting more people out of the dungeon, but he's stubborn, and there's only so much legal power to exercise when a man is above the law.

[So... maybe Phoenix was hasty to dismiss the idea of breaking out of the dungeon, but he's not going to say that in so many words. Not here, at least.]

Also, I can turn into a bird now. I guess that could probably be useful.

Roland / Death arcana : mingling/chatting/gossip

[towerjunkie]

[ The specific concerns Roland has aren't ones he wants to bring before the group yet (about how dangerous Randall Flagg is; about the connection he thinks exists between the Singularity and the Dark Tower holding all the worlds from collapsing) so he waits to hear if the broader concerns about the power Ambrose has to just dump them back into the void, or what the ultimate plans for the Singularity even are.

In the end he decides not to get up and speak. He's wearing his white silk embroidered robe over more casual and durable pants, and under the long robe-top he has an old revolver strapped to each hip. Just in case. Yes, it's him who's been making the booming racket outside the castle each afternoon.

But once the talking up the front is done, he's eager to engage in conversation one on one. It's likely he's encountered most of the Welcomed population at this point, enough to put names to faces, and he's eager to get a deeper understanding of what positions people hold. ]

Surely, if Sai Ambrose has a suspicion that his actions will guarantee the saving of this world, he's right to take these actions. He's weighing the lives of fifty-odd strangers with all the people of this land.

[ ooc: just a heads up i'll be very slow replying over the next few days ]

[hylife]

[ Yes, Link has heard those curious weapons of Roland's out on the courtyard. It's hard not to, they're loud enough to be tiny cannons! He hasn't them up close, so they catch his eye whenever Roland passes near. He's eyed them curiously more than once this evening - with more visible interest than any of the more formal conversation sparked in him - mentally comparing them to the weapons he knows from back home.

It takes him a second to recognize that Roland has spoken, but not much longer than that to agree. With the sentiment, at least. ]

I was told we're here to benefit all worlds.

[extremethirst]

Saving the world from what, though?

[ Nero is all for saving the world if it means destroying the world in the progress, because that shit is always quite entertaining. But he would like to know what unknown force that they're fighting against might be.

The Singularity itself, huh? Use the thing that might destroy them to save them? Is that really how it works? He doesn't think so, but he does like Ambrose's spirit. Still, even if he likes it, it might not be the spirit that he really is going to ally himself with, unfortunately. ]

[photophobic]

[Well isn't that a pleasant change from the common tune most people seem to be humming around here. Kylo's eyebrows raise slightly, his gaze heavy to the point of unnecessary intensity as he appraises the gunslinger.]

Ambrose claims that deeper understanding of the Singularity is the key to saving all worlds. The ones we have been taken from among them. Though considering how... resistant to assisting him some of the heroes he's chosen to collect seem determined to be, I wouldn't blame him for attempting a more personally directed appeal.

[brittlest]

[The unremarkable man at the end of the table has been quiet for the duration of this sharing session thus far, having opted to settle deep into his chair to nurse a cup of whatever mild ale can be got with a Thorne dinner rather than take his turn talking. And up until this moment, it would have been an easy to consider his presence as a matter of convenience. He is indeed the very picture of a man with nothing better to do who has opted to sit here with his chin sullenly set in his hand, attentive only because the alternative involves returning to a quiet room or to wandering a library he has already thoroughly explored.

And yet—]

Yes of course. It is all perfectly reasonable. [Ralston's hand comes away from his face, languidly lowering to adjust the cane presently hooked on the arm of his chair.] So long as we agree to believe all of what Sai Ambrose has elected to tell us.

[productid4]

[Even if Roland hadn't put in effort to remember everyone's names and faces, Louis stands out. Being an anthropomorphic deer with one leg does that.

Louis sits in a chair, his face hard to read as he listens to what people have to say. He's serious the whole time, his fingers resting on his chin.

And he doesn't hesitate when Roland makes his statement.]

Of course he's right. That is, if he actually has reason to believe that he's saving the world. [And he isn't lying or a madman drunk on power, is what Louis chooses to leave unsaid. He rests his hand on his lap, frowning at Roland.] Why haven't the other nations in this world tried to do what Ambrose has done? Are the people here really in agreement about how threatening the Singularity is, and how best to manage that threat if so?

[shadowsran]

[For the first time Misty is reminded of home, or what colored her final weeks in it. Encroaching power struggle, disparate parties unwillingly united, something conspiratorial in the air - and armed or no, outright malcontent or no, she takes special care to remember the latter. Productive as the event may be, it's acknowledgment of their being a faction with ideas. As individuals rise to share information and take questions, she's pointedly silent. Plausible deniability, should conversation take a turn and the wrong people be eavesdropping. No one will be able to call her a conspirator.

Refreshingly unlike those final days, she isn't the center of focus. To listen uninterrupted and only sporadically observed is a gift. It isn't as though she has anything to offer anyway.

After a time she decides to test if the environment can be a meditative one, relaxed and disorganized mingling repurposed as white noise. Perfectly still where she sits, eyes closed, she could pass for asleep.

Should she get the feeling anyone is hovering nearby and isn't beaten to speaking, she'll sacrifice her focus to ask:] Have you been back, since? To the Horizon?

[abyssions]

[Yuri is also hanging back. That's partially because of the obvious—he's new enough not to have much to contribute—but also because he finds it more useful to be a fly on the wall. He doesn't know any of these people, and it's easier to get a read on them from a distance.

Maybe the blonde sitting a few yards away is doing the same thing. He doubts she's actually detached enough to sleep, and so he isn't surprised by the question.]

I haven't been there at all.

Link (Strength): chat??/mingle

[hylife]

Link is another relatively silent figure at this gathering. He's relatively silent in general, in fact. Perhaps some castle residents present have spotted this diminutive elf out on the courtyard, keeping mostly to himself as he feels out the weight and balance of the various swords and bows on offer for the Welcomed to train with.

He always looks quite focused on his practice and very serious, in a way that isn't entirely replicated here when Link's boots barely touch the floor. (That everything appears to be designed for a race a few inches taller, on average, than himself doesn't appear to bother him.) Occasionally, his toes swing in a subtle sign of boredom as the others make lengthier speeches, or whenever the discussion gets tied up in details.

Link is used to acting with very little direction regarding a task, after all. That the folks summoned here want to do so much talking before they even have a mission pinned to the board (so to speak) baffles him, but... many of the people here are said to have arrived before him, Link knows. He should listen to what they have to say, especially about the Singularity and what it might mean for their purpose in coming here.

So here he is, resting his chin on his palm, elbow gracelessly propped on the table. He makes a valiant effort not to visibly nod off while he's trying to take in all this very important information.

I'm sorry,,

[stealsthetruth]

Having spent her first month here down in the dungeons, Kay still hasn't quite acquainted herself with all of the honored guests just yet. However, while it's hard to be totally sure, she's like... Ninety percent certain she hasn't seen the short pointy eared one around at all until tonight.

She recognizes the significance of that pose coupled with the look on his face, valiant though his effort may be. That's the vaguely glassy-eyed expression of someone who is desperate to try and pay attention to some important information, but their brain just isn't engaged enough to stay awake without a fight. Kay recognizes this because she's worn that same expression herself many times before, sitting through math class, or trying to retain one of Mr. Edgeworth's long-winded legal explanations.

Poor guy. Maybe she should try and help wake him up? But... How to do that in a way that isn't totally disruptive?

Inspiration strikes when Kay glances over the dinner roll sitting on the table in front of her, something she has been slowly nibbling at throughout the entire meeting. She tears a chunk of the soft inner-bread off and starts mushing it into a little ball, trying to get it dense enough so that it can make its intended flight more easily. When just squashing it around doesn't seem to do the trick, she... Licks it. Gets the whole thing just a little bit moist so that it can retain its shape better.

Once the silver bullet has been crafted, the Great Thief takes aim from across the table, lining up her shot carefully. Flick. The yeasty spitball sails across the table, zipping directly at the sleepy hylian's forehead.

[nightwash]

[ So maybe Ronan didn't make the friendliest impression during their little roundtable, but he also hasn't flipped the table and stormed off, which means he's in one of his more cooperative moods. Not that it's very apparent from his body language, as he's lurking in a corner with his arms crossed and his icy eyes narrowed in judgment at the gathering around him.

At least half of these people missed the fucking point entirely. That pisses him the hell off, when the other half really stuck their necks out to share what they've got and what they've learned. But at least now they have a good idea who's going to be welcomed to the next meeting and who's not going to be missed when they end up back in a cell. What a herd of idiots, the ones who don't understand what they've been given. If they knew. If they knew.

He's absolutely seething. His jaw hurts with the teeth-grinding effort of keeping his mouth shut. He looks like he's going to bite the next person who speaks to him. ]

[photophobic]

[Kylo hardly needs to be Force-sensitive to pick up on Ronan's mood, given the fairly descriptive picture his body-language is painting— and not least because he's similarly unimpressed.]

Well.

[It's a low, conspiratorial murmur as he draws close. His own expression is hard to read. Artificially flat.]

What a lot we've learned.

Mingling

[harmonian]

[Sasarai is quick to show up. There is no doubt in his mind that he wants to hear about the things people have learned since coming to Thorne.

It feels strange listening to so many speeches but not having anything to say himself. For most of his life he's been the orator in the room. But listen he does, leaning forward on his elbows and keenly watching as people talk about their experiences. Information is the best armor and the best weapon and he's determined to have it. Some of the people here likely don't know much more than he does about this world but knowing how they perceive it is valuable too. Every politician values knowing how people think.

Some will see him sitting at a table or standing around, arms lazily folded over his narrow chest.

It is a simple question he asks when he's approached...]

Were you there too? At that Horizon place, I mean.

[brittlest]

[The man on the other side of the table makes a low sound, evidently briefly distracted by some more boisterous exchange occurring farther afield. When he does tip his attention around—]

In a manner of speaking. [Fingers curled, he idly settles his cheek against the flat of his knuckles. There's an air of... it's not boredom, exactly. There is some attentive spark his dark eyes. But distant? Absolutely. A man who imagines he is observing something worth study rather than equating himself with one of its subject.] When we passed into that place, it took our memories with it.

Nero | The Devil | Mingling

[extremethirst]

[ Nero's ears give a little wiggle at the sound of the lute and tape recorder. Given how long they are, it is an obvious up and down motion. His expression becomes complicated at hearing the news that they can track where everyone is, if need be. But that makes sense. They wouldn't want their guests (or prisoners) to just up and leave without their knowing.

Ah well. ]

Hi. I am Nero, an elf. Possibly the first time you all are meeting one, yeah? If you want to shake my hand, I will allow it. [ He opens his hand to wave in greeting. ]

Anyway... magic sure is complicated here and wherever you lot are from. I guess the gods of your worlds don't trust ya not to make a mess.

[ The elf makes his statement without a hint of irony, surprisingly. He does wonder about the tight reins that the gods of other worlds have. But he takes a breath in and lets it out as a sigh. ]

Which makes me wonder why the gods are just leaving this Singularity alone. If there is a pattern, as they're saying, it is that they are heartless bastards and planning something.

[ If it is what he thinks, it is a pathway to destruction of all life. ...He can't help but smile and hope that it is exactly as he thinks.

Ah. It makes him damn giddy. ]

What do you think?

[ Nero sure did spout a lot of nonsense all at once and then suddenly asking questions. But that's just him. ]

[ ooc: Opt-out and permissions post. ]

[neverlight]

No shit, an elf, huh? Yeah, that's a first for me.

[ The ears are a dead giveaway, but still, meeting an actual elf is an experience, isn't it? Like fantasy come to life, standing before him. Which is what this entire world is, really, so Nero's presence isn't as much of a shock as it could've been otherwise.

Brad shakes his head at the offer to shake his hand; that whole thing's kinda fallen out of favour in his world as of late. ]

I'm Brad, a human, [ he offers instead, a light, playful mimicry in his greeting, smiling in turn.

And then there's the rest of what Nero has to say, which he listens to politely. Attentively, even. ]

Gods don't really make their presences known in my world. [ Whether there even are gods is a whole other question, but theological debates never go anywhere. ] Could be the same thing here — that nobody in this world is really worth their time. You don't have to be planning something to be a heartless bastard. Sometimes all you have to do is leave people to their own devices, knock the first domino over, and watch as they make a mess of things all on their own.

[ Spoken like someone who has utilized that particular method and rather enjoys it. The Singularity's much more than he's ever had to deal with, and truth be told, he doesn't really care about it all that much; all he's got to go off of is the words of others. Maybe later. For now? It's just seeing what all of the fuss is about. ]

Homelander | The Boys | mingle / gossip

[moremilkplz]

[He comes, not because he's dying to know or anything. Nothing these people can say could possibly come close to the truth about the Singularity or about Thorne. The mages had warned them all, about the true purpose of them being called here- even the failed ones who had to linger in the dungeons for forever.

Or, whatever they had for punishment here. Death, from the looks of it. Homelander approved.

But he is here, listening with all the attention he usually kept reserved for state dinners and meeting with Vought shareholders.]

Can you believe this guy?

[inthemeadow]

[ Mal happens to be stood by Homelander at the back of the room. He's chosen not to share anything about his world because the more information he gives, the more dangerous it could be for Alina, but he is quietly gathering information from this meeting.

He won't join in poking fun at Jaskier because being bullied as a child has taught him better than that, but he does say: ]

He's entertaining, I'll give him that. [ The part about them putting aside their differences and working together leaves Mal frowning, though. He's good at holding grudges, at least towards people who've hurt Alina. ]

Are you going to take to the stage next?

Jaskier | The Witcher | Mingling

[cointosser]

[After his magnanimous speech, one may imagine Jaskier may be a little tired from the effort. Not at all. He's as bright-eyed and busy-tailed as ever, weaving his way through the gathered crowd. Though as a bard he's never been paid to lead any discussion -- that is, after all, what nobles and war generals are for -- it comes as naturally as anything; another performance that, unfortunately, he won't be paid for.

But he has learned some new things already. Not all is lost. And if he can make allies with the right people -- unfortunately a practice he knows well, when courts are involved -- he can get much-needed supplies for the Witcher. If he can procure a weapon for Geralt without raising suspicion or spending coin... that would certainly put them ahead.

And he is making sure there are no actual calls for insurrection nor rebellion; he's certainly not against the idea himself, but he also holds no stake in the idea. If he's to make a nuisance of himself, he'll only allow as much attention as he can brave right now.

So Jaskier is poking his head into conversations to make sure no options too defiant are being raised, willing to call a guard if the moment needs it. However, he's mostly just nosey... and also happy to answer any questions one may have. He may even show up with an offered glass of wine for any parched (attractive) guests, a smile on his face.]

It turned out to be a big of a long one, didn't it? Ah, well, these things happen with me. I hope you were able to learn something new, at any rate! Certainly I and my friend [Where he indicates the dark, sulky form of Kylo Ren, who probably doesn't look much appreciative of anything] appreciate your coming.

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[Speeches are, in Emet-Selch's experience, something that quite simply are part of life. Admittedly, his life of late has involved no small amount of politics and even outside of that he has often been prone to speaking at great length when the mood strikes him.

Today... it has not. New as he is, he has nothing of particular importance to add, though he likely makes for a somewhat noticeable lurker, even without the finery that would have been his customary attire were he still possessed of his own clothes. (Some of it is the unconscious way he holds himself, as if he is utterly unconcerned by basically anything; the rest is his height and the slightly unusual streak of white in his hair.)]

More than a few things, as it happens. And while I don't doubt I could have eventually managed to put all the various pieces together myself, there is certainly something to be said for not needing to. To say nothing of the ease of networking potential solutions, in a gathering like this.

[Though if he has any sort of guess, true answers are yet some ways out. Still, one cannot get to a solution without taking those first steps, and he can think of worse first steps than this.]

sam wilson | mingling.

[falcony]

[ since the horizon, sam has been something of a complicated response to the 'great purpose' that ambrose had brought them all to thorne to complete. be it that his own horizon domain had so much of home wrapped up in it that this all felt entirely too personal, or something else entirely, but sam was starting to feel that all too familiar grey-area start to settle a bit more firmly.

it hits him, a bit belatedly, that the fissure breaking between the guests could be dangerous. but in addition to that, if they had all been chosen to come help, all been selected to come as welcomed guests, seeing how far off their opinions landed were...interesting.

and yes, he had some opinions on ambrose. but sam also knew that this meeting, still in the castle of all places, wasn't exactly the place to voice them. so he came more as a listener than anything else, keeping to the back of the hall as many of the other guests chimed in, arms crossed and expression curious as everyone spoke. he can sense some of the same tension going on in the dungeons breakthrough in some of the more heated conversations, and sam makes a kind of decision that if it gets too bad, he'll step in. not for one side or the other, but honestly just because there is nothing to be gained from either side if a fight breaks out. thankfully it doesn't, or at least hasn't yet, and when it all is said and done, he's kept mostly quiet.

there is very little that could give away where his own thoughts lie, but sam is approachable enough as the main organization of the meeting dissolves into more mingling. if anyone comes up to chat, he'll be more than happy to engage - keeping (with some effort) his tone fairly neutral. ]

[neverlight]

[ As a newcomer to this world, Brad doesn't have anything to add to the discussion at hand. More that this meeting is as good a place as any to gain intel; a different kind of bias compared to the Thornean library, the chance to hear direct accounts from the people who are apparently his peers now. In short, it'd be stupid not to come.

That said, he'd stuck closer to the back of the hall, too. Better way to observe as many people as possible without drawing attention to himself. And Sam stood out by not standing out: respectful, attentive, an adult. None of the inane flashiness of the bard, none of the dramatics of the grumpy goth. Someone who might actually be worth talking to.

So he approaches, hand raised for a second in greeting before falling back to his side, small smile on his face, head tilted just slightly in curiosity. ]

Are these things always lively, or is this just a particularly special occasion?

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones | The Emperor

[song_of_ice]

[He's been doing his best to listen and pick up any new information he hears, but everything seems to come as a blur. Horizon and the events that transpired were heavy on his mind. It might be the only reason he decided to come at all, given that he would much prefer to think in his room, no matter the presence of roommates or not. Instead, anything that might make sense of what happened was welcomed.

It was a difficult thing to go from heavy burdens to no burdens and then back to his current self. That lightness was still fresh in his thoughts, that freedom that he never really knew, even among the Freefolk. It was exhilarating, even as guilt seeped into his consciousness. It wasn't supposed to be that way and he wasn't supposed to feel as attached to that place as he did. They were told it was a threat...supposedly...they had to believe that, right?]

What do we even know of Ambrose? I appealed for the prisoners to be released, but he claimed powerlessness. Now he said he wanted us to risk death to destroy some sort of anomaly that only we seem able to survive? It's strange.

[photophobic]

Powerlessness?

[Kylo is suddenly very interested. His gaze is heavy, focus intense.]

He is only one voice, one part of the political structure here in Thorne, and may not be responsible for many of the decisions you disagree with. Do you remember what he said, exactly?

Some | The Empress | Observing

[gruesome]

[Some came because he hoped this many people talking would at least provide some answers. He's stuck to the back of the room - the dining room still bothers him, with its many toxic scents and the open fireplace at one end, but he's wrapped himself well in his growing collection of cloaks, and he simply sits, watching.

More confused than when he came, and utterly overwhelmed.

There are more people here than he had met in his entire life before the well, family excepted, and he retreats further and further back into his cloaks whenever voices rise.]

[frontlinetitties]

[She spots the huddled figure loitering on the periphery of their ragtag group, thinks she can discern a hint of this body-language from beneath the rather unusual number of cloaks pulled about his, quietly conveying his unease. She hasn't had much practice at being around other people. Other people, that is, who don't have one foot in the grave, or both already firmly planted within it only for reanimation to prevent them from attaining the final dignity of rest. Even at Caanan House, the majority of her days had been spent slinking around like an unwanted shadow, silent and largely avoided. So seeing someone like that - isolated, uncomfortable, tense - it threatens to tug at her heartstrings. Just don't ever suggest as much to her face.

So eventually she slopes on over to him, tries for a disarming smile.]

Sooooo...

[she begins, and then realises rather abruptly that she's had a startling dearth of opportunities for small talk in her life. That, in reality, she doesn't really know how to engage in a normal conversation, one that doesn't begin and end with barbed witticisms, with verbal slices and parries. An awkward silence follows, before she finally fills it up, somewhat lamely.]

Some party, huh?

[necrosaint]

[ Once she's shared her notes, Harrow falls silent and sort of does her best to disappear without fully disappearing; she's left those for other pepople to look at if they like. Now she is without responsibility. That's ... still an experience that she can't wrap her head around, honestly.

There are also a lot of people in this space, many of them unfamiliar even if some have a tinge of recognition from the Horizon, which she remembers in a haze. Anyone who recognizes her first and speaks will bring some level of recognition, but Harrow's usually somewhat crowded mind is struggling to keep on top of people's identities now.

For some of the time she is trying to physically hide behind Gideon Nav, who is large enough she pretty much can get away with it, but she's also unable to stay in one place and keep listening to fragments of what others say; eventually she falls into pacing about the room, observing and perhaps subtly dropping eaves with nearly silent footsteps. Two of her skeletons follow behind her, though: they're pretty hard to miss and don't really blend in with anything. ]

[gruesome]

[Some usually has his head on a swivel, but he's retreated so far into his borrowed cloaks that his first cue that something's odd is the scent - dry bone and the throat-closing hint of ash. He sits suddenly straight, forebody erect and alert, and then he spots the skeletons. In an instant, a blink, he's gone, teleporting to underneath the nearest table, from where he will unabashedly stare.

And reach a long arm out to cautiously touch one when they pass.]