hadriel_logs | Intro Log: The Joys of Composting

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Intro Log: The Joys of Composting

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for September
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: September 10th-14th
Warnings: New folks! Bugs! Weird stuff!

It's that time again! Or, well, probably the very first time for you. It's not that often that you turn up in a different world - unless it is. You awaken on the ground of a large arena, a stone ceiling stretching high above you. Welcome to Hadriel! Don't worry, you weren't the only one who woke up here. So did a bunch of other people - and so did some monsters.

Yup, crawling around being incredibly gross are quite a few Jauchekafers, large beetles that feed off chemical and biological waste from humans. When upset or alarmed, they're perfectly happy to swarm and attack people, so hopefully you didn't wake up in the middle of them. Being about two and a half feet long, their bites can do quite a bit of damage, and that's not even counting the toxicity that might be passed on from their diet!

Speaking of their diet, those beetles aren't the only trash that's washed up in Hadriel this month. While making your escape from the arena, you might stumble over a interesting table or a possibly comfy chair, or even a piece of art. A lot of it's pretty cool, but you're not gonna find anything that isn't made out of trash. But hey, maybe that's your aesthetic?

Don't get too distracted by all this trash that has been turned into treasure. After you've find your way out of the colosseum there's plenty of other distractions! Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, a new monster, a project to help with, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers September 10th-14th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication and the newbie guide installed.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Matt manages not to trip over the discard pile, and in fact stops the moment before the tip of his cane touches it. His attention turns to the woman who seems to be on a mission, of sorts, with the clothes rack.

Hmm.]

Not finding what you're looking for?

[He says it with a faint smile, curious. He doesn't think it's his imagination that she seems a bit agitated.] I guess it's not exactly a fashion boutique.

[she's distracted from her search for a proper gown when she hears the man's voice. she takes a brief moment to collect herself and puts on a bright smile]

No, unfortunately. The selection seems to be somewhat limited. All I know is that this [points to the pile of clothes on the ground] will not do at all. You wouldn't happen to know of other sources of clothes, would you?

Well, I found a few things that worked for my needs, but I'd bet we probably have different taste.

[Just a wild guess. His gaze doesn't follow her gesture as she points, instead still faced mostly in her direction.]

But...

[He steps around her, towards another rack, letting his fingertips trail over the edges of clothes, stopping when he finds something that's a better fabric than the others, lets his fingers trail down the edge of it. Appears to be a dress, finely woven, at least some silk in it. ...he's got opinions about fabric, after all. Style, well, that may be way off. Who knows?]

This is soft.

[she notices his clothes fully for the first time. she's never seen anything like them before, but they seem to be well-fitted on the man

laughs a little at his statement] Quite likely. I must admit, I've never been in a situation like this before. My clothes were always cut and made just for me.

[she watches him curiously as he goes to another rack and finds a dress which is far more suitable]

It looks soft. It's rather pretty, too. Thank you, ser...?

[Cut and made for her? She must come from a wealthy family if she's used to personal tailoring. And thinking about it, Matt can't quite place her accent. He's started getting a sense, after a few interactions, that he's definitely into something beyond any experience he's ever had before.

A slightly bemused smile, but he's quick to offer,] Matthew. Matthew Murdock. But just Matt is fine, miss..?

[And he holds out a hand to shake in her general direction.]

[ridiculously wealthy and she is--was--is a queen, after all. and she can't place his accent, either. she's assuming he must be from one of the Free Cities in Essos, because it's nothing like a Westerosi accent of any kind

she smiles back charmingly] It's my pleasure to meet you, Matt. My name is Margaery Tyrell, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

[they don't shake hands in Westeros, so she just takes his hand and holds on]

[He just tried to shake hands with a queen. Matt at least can see the humor in this and he manages a sheepish smile in her direction, keeping hold of her hand in the process.]

Queen. Well, it... it's my pleasure as well, you're majesty?

[Is that the right address? He's too much of a New Yorker for this, clearly.

And because it's Matt, he won't leave it at that either.] Which... seven kingdoms would these be?

[she keeps a hold of his hand

and technically it would be "Your Grace," but perhaps they have different forms of address for royalty where he's from?]

The North, the Westerlands, the Iron Islands, the Crownlands, the Stormlands, Dorne, and the Reach. I'm originally from Highgarden in the Reach. Where are you from, Matt?

[Should he be curtsying? What is the etiquette here anyway? But well, he's a bit distracted by trying to run all those names through his head and coming up with.

Nope. Nothing.]

Me? Ah... Hell's Kitchen? [Good, Murdock. Start with that one. He adds, as further information, quickly,] New York.

[bowing, most likely. and be grateful she didn't mention the Riverlands which is another region in Westeros. just not one of the seven kingdoms. that would lead to the whole "wait, there are eight . . .but you call them Seven Kingdoms?" dilemma]

Hell's Kitchen? New York? I've never heard of either place. How strange!

And I... have never heard of any of your kingdoms. Zero for Seven.

[Not a great track record.] Geography wasn't my best subject in school... clearly. [A tap of the top end of his cane to his glasses. Labeling maps and being blind don't exactly go together super well,] But there aren't exactly many monarchies left these days.

[Definitely strange.] It sounds like -- I can't believe I'm saying this honestly -- we might be from different worlds.

[How is this his life now. He just wanted to be a lawyer, retire from vigilante activities, take care of his little corner of the world however he could.] ...I think I need a drink.

Truly? They're all on the continent of Westeros. Well, except for the Iron Islands, those are islands of course.

[watches him tap his glasses curiously. she hasn't caught on to the fact that he's blind yet] There aren't?

[after his statement about being from other worlds, her mouth drops open for a moment. mind. blown.] I--how is that even possible?

[and all she wanted was to be the queen. she knows she died and she's going to have to deal with that at some point, but. she was the queen. something she'd strived for since she was a girl] ...I believe that the "phone" referred to a Speakeasy where we can obtain drinks? Perhaps we should go there.

Ah... yeah. There are seven continents where I'm from, and none of them are Westeros.

[So yeah. Uh. He's really thinking this may be a different world sort of situation. Which makes his head swim just a little. He shakes his head and offers a sheepish and vaguely apologetic smile.]

I wish I knew. I'm still not convinced this isn't a very strange dream.

[Though that possibility feels slimmer and slimmer by the moment. He does perk up noticeably at her last comment.] That sounds like the best idea I've heard in this place.

Then I suppose we must be from different worlds. What is your world called?

[she smiles back and takes the hand that she's been holding to tuck her arm through his]

I think I died before I came here. I'm certain I did, actually. However, this is nothing like the afterlife I was told of.

[she starts to lead the way toward the Speakeasy. she double checked the map to be sure she was headed in the right direction] Thank you. I hope they have wine. I'm not terribly fond of ale.

Edited 2017-09-13 01:48 (UTC)

Earth. That's the planet, anyway. Nice place, mostly.

[His smile falters at what she says next though. Died? She thinks she died? Well, there are a few reasons that's a little disconcerting -- people coming back from the dead, for one thing, kind of strange. But she's so young. He can hear it in her voice, feel it in the soft smoothness of that hand that he held in his.]

This isn't the afterlife. At least, I'm pretty sure about that. And you feel and sound very alive to me.

[So here they are. He'll let her lead, since he's not sure where they're headed. But as they approach he can smell it, the scent of alcohol noises inside.]

Earth. [her tone turns a little teasing] You call your planet dirt?

[she very definitely died before her arrival. murdered by her mother-in-law in a grab for power. and she is very young still, in her early twenties and a political pawn for most of her life]

So if it's not the afterlife, this place must posses the power to bring those who died back to life. I've never heard of such a thing. [and her voice warms] Thank you for saying so.

[and they arrive at the Speakeasy] Judging by the noise and the smell of strong spirits, we must be at the Speakeasy. Shall we?

[Matt laughs at that, ducking his head.] More like we call our dirt after our planet, since that's what makes it up. ...or who knows. I'm a lawyer, not a linguist.

[His expression sobers as she speaks though. Brought back to life. He's well, he's known that to happen before. Though whatever this place is, he doesn't think it's quite the same.]

I think you're right. So, let's... [He reaches forward, feeling for the door handle, finding it to pull the door open, hold it for her. He may not exactly know how one ought to act around a queen, but he has decent manners anyhow.]

A lawyer? What does a lawyer do?

[she's never heard of it happening to anyone. her death made her furious since she knew something bad was going to happen, but no one listened to her. her new life, she's reserving judgement on

she smiles and her voice warms as the door is opened for her] Thank you, Matt. I see two open seats over there. Shall we?

...no lawyers in your world? Well, some people might say that's an improvement.

[He admits with a self-deprecating laugh, as he follows her inside to the seats that she's mentioned. Sounds good to him.]

Lawyers... we work with the law. We work to try and prosecute the guilty, to make sure that they're held accountable for their crimes. Or to help defend the innocent who are accused of crimes. Ideally, anyway. Doesn't always work out so neatly. [That's the nutshell though, half the nutshell at least.]

No, I've never heard of such a thing. In my world, people are judged by their liege lord or their king. Of course, they could also choose trial by combat if they're of nobility and the crime is severe enough.

[the seats are a pair of stools sitting side-by-side at the bar itself, perfect for getting the attention of the bartender

listens attentively to his description of what a lawyer does] That sounds terribly complicated. How do you determine if a person is innocent or guilty?

[Matt makes sure that Margaery has her seat first before he slips into the second. Trial by combat earns a sharp lift of his eyebrows. ...sounds like his former other life, but that he will let remain unsaid.]

Where I'm from anyway, the accused is judged by a jury -- a group -- of their peers. The prosecution and defense both offer evidence... physical evidence, sworn testimony. And then it's left to the jury to take that evidence and determine if someone is guilty or not. It keeps too much power over someone's life being left in one person's hands.

[He leans against the counter.] Not every man is an honorable man, king or not.

[she wonders a moment about the raised eyebrows. perhaps trial by combat seems barbaric?]

[listens attentively] ...that sounds like a much better method of determining guilt or innocence. Perhaps if we'd held such a thing for Cersei, she would've been found guilty and I wouldn't have died.

Oh, I know. Believe me, I know. King's Landing was a cesspit of backstabbing and plotting.

It's not a bad system. It isn't perfect, but nothing is. But it's one I believe in.

[One he is trying to believe in more and vigilante less, but he leaves those thoughts unspoken for now.

One corner of his mouth twitches upwards in a commiserating sort of smile.] New York feels that way sometimes too.

[But that aside, he adds, tone lighter.] So. I have to confess, this is the first time I've ever spoken to royalty. I'm probably failing completely in the manners department; I hope you won't hold it against me.

...it must be good, to be doing something that you believe in.

[Margaery doesn't know what she believes in anymore. she used to believe that being queen would make her life perfect, but she was imprisoned and now killed because of it. she used to believe in the faith of the Seven, but after seeing it used as a bludgeon, she no longer believes in it.

she smiles back knowingly] Oh, I see. Perhaps our homes aren't so dissimilar after all?

[she laughs warmly] You've been doing very well so far! Really, even back home, I never stood for much ceremony. I prefer that you be yourself.

I think every place has its power dynamics, and they can get a little treacherous.

[Politics. Or people who try to snatch and grab what power they can through intimidation and violence. He can't help but think of Fisk, and it's not a pleasant thought, so he tries to push it aside in favor of concentrating on the young woman beside him.

And it's easy when she laughs like that. It's a pretty sound, one he thinks he could do with hearing more of.]

That so? Thank goodness. [An easy smile.] I'll do my best. [Though "being himself" is sadly complicated.]

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omg please pretend I used the right "your" up there or they'll revoke my english degree...

your secret's safe with me ;)

<3

<3!

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