hadriel_logs | Intro Log: Faceplanted

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Intro Log: Faceplanted

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for October
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: October 10th-14th
Warnings: Newbies, spookies, and evil trees!

If it's your first time here, congratulations! You get the lovely, unique sensation of eating dirt as the Door knocks you facefirst into the ground. You'll probably be a little woozy at first, so take your time getting up- meet some folks, introduce yourself, don't be weird about it. Welcome to Hadriel! You're not the only person who just got to taste alien dirt firsthand, though- there are several people in the same predicament as you, so feel free to say hi! Probably shouldn't spend too much time talking though, because the lovely trees that you thought were just scenery are starting to creep ever closer the more you let your guard down.

All around you is a forest of spooky evil trees- it seems to be just a normal sort of forest at first, but the more you take your eyes off of them, the more they shift around you and close in. Or is that just your imagination? If you move too close to one, look out! They're rather determined to pick you up and stick you into the ground so you might take root- and if you resist, well, a severed bud can still serve as a seed, right?

If the trees tear your clothes though, don't worry, there's plenty of extras to be found lying around the arena if you don't mind them being a bit dirty. Lying on the ground and sometimes hanging off of these tree branches are some free shirts, yours for the taking! You know, if you'd be caught dead with one...

But hey, after you've met new friends and found a new aesthetic, 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 October 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!

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[France will be terrible disappointed to know that he's missed a feast in this place. Especially after a few weeks of canned dinner.

He nods, heaving a sigh.]

I do as well, but how selfish mm? I have only arrived. It must be worse for those trapped here longer! Have you been in this place long, mademoiselle?

[there's weird produce in the orchard?]

There's nothing selfish about wanting to be well-fed. And I've been here around a month. I take it you're new to Hadriel?

Perhaps not! Besides, meals are meant to be shared, I would certainly like to do just that.

[France wants to cook for everyone. But not with these sad canned things.]

Oui, very new. I am still finding my feet here. It is disorienting!

Oh? You're a good cook?

[no one wants to cook with the sad canned food. Marg has yet to figure out how to do it]

It is, especially if you're not used to the technology. Have you read the "newbie guide" yet?

Oh yes, very much so.

[Zero modesty in his cooking skills. Zero modesty in general. But for cooking he can back up the talk.]

I have! I suppose the technology is not entirely unfamiliar. Though I don't particularly like computers -- cold, complicated things! Things were so much simpler before them!

Then you'll have an advantage over the rest of us. Or at least an advantage over me. I can't cook at all.

[zero modesty in general? hoo boy, he is not going to like the gods]

We don't have computers in Westeros. All of this new [carefully says the next word] technology is quite strange to me.

Oh? Is that so? Then, once I figure out where to get better ingredients, or make do with these, ma chère mademoiselle, you will have to allow me to cook for you, mm?

[He will all too happily cook her a meal, or give her pointers.]

Westeros? [Curious now.] This is nowhere I've heard of.

I know we have an orchard here. I'd assume that means fresh apples at the very least. But beware of the meat; I've heard that some of it may be contaminated.

[pointers would be greatly appreciated. she can't cook without burning things, so now she just empties cans into bowls]

I'm not surprised. Most people here are from Earth, or at least some version of it.

But I've been rude and not introduced myself properly. My name is Margaery Tyrell, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And you are?

Oooh! Actual fruit?

[France is interested. Tremendously interested. He wrinkles his nose at the idea of contaminated meat.] Mm. Then I will have to be careful, I suppose. But I have worked with less before.

[But oh what is this? A queen? He smiles and drops a very proper little bow, holding out a hand to take hers, all genteel manners. It may be centuries since his last monarchy, but he hasn't forgotten.]

C'est un plaisir, madame. [A smile,] I am France... [Wait. Hold please.] ...cis. Francis Bonnefoy.

Yes. Mostly apples from what I've heard, but there may be other varieties.

Have you? When did you learn to cook, if you don't mind me asking?

[she smiles at the manners. she shouldn't still be expecting such treatment, but part of her just can't let go]

It's a pleasure to meet you Francis. What language were you speaking earlier? It's quite pretty.

Well, now that is a start at least.

[Apples to begin with, and from there... well. He has to start somewhere. A smile at the question.] Oh, a little here and a little there over time. Paris is home to some of the best chefs and culinary institutions in the entire world, of course.

[Oh. Oh Margaery you just asked him about his language. He adores talking about his language. And she complimented it! Even better.]

Merci, madame! It is lovely, yes? It's français -- French, that is -- the language of love and art and passion.

Where is Paris? Is it on Earth?

[well, she does think it's pretty!]

It is lovely. But how can any one language be the language of all of those things?

It is, yes! But aaah if you aren't from Earth you wouldn't know it, of course. It's a beautiful city -- a center of culture and art and cuisine. They call it the City of Light. It has earned the title.

[A wistful sigh. He misses home. Desperately. Being so far and so disconnected from, well, from the source of himself. It's difficult.]

How could it not, mm? Of course, there's English too, which thinks it's quite important but.. [A dismissive wave of his hand.] It has its merits, but it is a brigand's language, stealing words from everywhere else and cobbling them together!

It sounds beautiful. "The City of Light." Far nicer than King's Landing.

[Hadriel's going to be rough on him, then]

[she laughs] That sounds like Westerosi! Seven kingdoms, plus the Riverlands, all jumbled up together and having to use words the others don't have to describe things they don't know.

It is. I am terribly biased, but Paris is the most beautiful city that Earth has to offer.

[So rough. He will whine about it extensively. Undoubtedly.

He does spare a smile, nodding.]

A wild language, always rebuilding itself. I suppose it serves, but it loses some of it's elegance, non?

What you've said about it sounds wonderful. I'd like to see it someday, if I can.

[Margaery doesn't whine. whining isn't fit for royalty. she does, however, complain a fair bit. mostly about the gods.]

It's true, no one has ever called Westerosi elegant. High Valyrian, on the other hand, that's elegant.

I hope you do! If you are ever in town, I will happily show you around. Give you the grand tour! The Louvre, la tour Eiffel. Montmartre. Notre Dame de Paris. L'Avenue des Champs-Élysées. So many things. And wine and food like nowhere else.

[So. So homesick.]

Ah I've rambled on. I'm curious of your home too, madame. Certainly a queen can tell me of her home, non?

That's assuming the creatures called gods would allow me to go elsewhere. I died back home, so perhaps I'll eternally be their prisoner.

[she knows the feeling. but she also knows that in her case, there's nothing she can do about it]

Oh, where to start? I suppose the best place is the War of the Five Kings. Westeros has been at war against itself for the past six years. Now, all five kings are dead and the country is in ruins.

Eh? You have died?

[She's so young! France's expression falters before he shakes his head.] Non. I refused to accept that a lovely young woman would be trapped in this place for eternity! If we are to find a way out, it will be one all can take!

[Who knows how that will work. But. Huff. He will calm down though and nod as she speaks, in understanding.]

I have seen so many wars. In my younger days, especially. They leave behind so much chaos. But countries can rebuild. Will yours be able to?

Yes, not long ago.

I would like to hope so. The idea of being eternally subject to the whims of the creatures calling themselves gods doesn't appeal to me in the slightest.

[it's hard telling what the gods would or wouldn't allow]

It's hard to say. Tommen--my husband before I died--will be left at the mercies of his mother who will surely try to rule through him. That can only lead to catastrophe. Cersei Lannister is an evil woman.

It is unacceptable entirely. Do not worry, madame. There will be a way found, I'm certain.

[Oh man those sorts of politics. France sighs.]

Aaah, I have seen that too many times I think. Monarchs do not always have the best of their people at heart -- and those so easily controlled are dangerous.

I hope so. Some people have been here as long as a year and a half.

[Westeros is full of such things]

Tommen is very young and has a good heart, but it seems to have left him incapable of imagining that his mother might not have his or Westeros's best interests at heart.

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Intro Log: Faceplanted

sorry for the delay! heath issues sidelined me a bit

no problem! :D

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