Carlisle Longinmouth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tongueamok) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2018-11-25 01:08 pm
tongueamok) wrote in hadriel_logs2018-11-25 01:08 pm
Entry tags:
Dome Sweet Dome
Who: Carlisle Longinmouth (tongueamok), OPEN
What: It's a log for the folks who expressed interest in Carlisle's latest gardening project! In short, he made a stupid dome of magic to protect the only two gardens he cares about, and is feeling very good about himself. Make him regret his hubris.
Where: Park
When: November 21st - early December
Warnings: Nothing yet! Heads up for anyone who has met him, but hasn't seen him in the past month: he's a lot more colorful now.
As the days without the gods add up and the city grows colder without power, there may be less and less people braving the outdoors. However, any of those who happen to wander in the vicinity of the park -- or what remains of it, as most of the trees have been removed -- might notice something odd: there are two, translucent domes covering a portion of it, their walls illuminated with a magical energy. Upon closer inspection, one can see the vague shapes of archways and leaves behind these glowing, blue barriers; they're connected to the ground via a stone curb, so any visitors might want to watch their step.
But should someone trip and fall into either dome, they'll find the walls won't keep them out -- they'll slip right through with only a tingling sensation, much like the shock of static, to accompany their passage, the magic wall remaining whole behind them. Within one dome is the memorial park, its various markers and tributes to those who have disappeared from Hadriel protected from the elements beyond the barrier; within the other is a garden, its rows of shrubs, vines, and greenery kept at a comfortable temperature within the magical ward.
And on most days, near the cottage at the center of said garden, one may find the man who conjured these domes, Carlisle Longinmouth. Sometimes, he's pruning away at the twitching, ivy-like vines of his coilers, tossing the trimmings to his pet, Rabbit. At other times, he's knelt near the barrier himself, inspecting the integrity of his magical walls. On more than one occasion, he may be over near a patch of dirt walled off with stones, within it the stalks of still-growing barley. Wherever he may be, there is one constant: he's generally not thrilled to find he has company.
tongueamok), OPENWhat: It's a log for the folks who expressed interest in Carlisle's latest gardening project! In short, he made a stupid dome of magic to protect the only two gardens he cares about, and is feeling very good about himself. Make him regret his hubris.
Where: Park
When: November 21st - early December
Warnings: Nothing yet! Heads up for anyone who has met him, but hasn't seen him in the past month: he's a lot more colorful now.
As the days without the gods add up and the city grows colder without power, there may be less and less people braving the outdoors. However, any of those who happen to wander in the vicinity of the park -- or what remains of it, as most of the trees have been removed -- might notice something odd: there are two, translucent domes covering a portion of it, their walls illuminated with a magical energy. Upon closer inspection, one can see the vague shapes of archways and leaves behind these glowing, blue barriers; they're connected to the ground via a stone curb, so any visitors might want to watch their step.
But should someone trip and fall into either dome, they'll find the walls won't keep them out -- they'll slip right through with only a tingling sensation, much like the shock of static, to accompany their passage, the magic wall remaining whole behind them. Within one dome is the memorial park, its various markers and tributes to those who have disappeared from Hadriel protected from the elements beyond the barrier; within the other is a garden, its rows of shrubs, vines, and greenery kept at a comfortable temperature within the magical ward.
And on most days, near the cottage at the center of said garden, one may find the man who conjured these domes, Carlisle Longinmouth. Sometimes, he's pruning away at the twitching, ivy-like vines of his coilers, tossing the trimmings to his pet, Rabbit. At other times, he's knelt near the barrier himself, inspecting the integrity of his magical walls. On more than one occasion, he may be over near a patch of dirt walled off with stones, within it the stalks of still-growing barley. Wherever he may be, there is one constant: he's generally not thrilled to find he has company.
/slides in here real real late
Poison does hesitate at the dome. She knows magic, and she knows technology, and she has seen barriers like this before and the things they can do to people who cross them. Yet... Carlisle is protective of his garden, but not to the extent of harming others with something like this. She takes a chance in touching the shimmering energy, and finds that it only tingles against her skin.
And with that, she slips through.
The relief from the cold is instant, and a soft exclamation of 'spirits' leaves her as warmth rises up through her frame like a flush. She tugs off her scarf as she walks, and she pets Rabbit when she finds him.]
Hello, Rabbit. Where's Carlisle? [She asks the nug, unfastening her coat and the jacket beneath it. From inside, two distinctly feline heads poke out.] He can't be far.
/also slides in here real real late
If the presence of the barrier -- something he surely must have conjured up -- isn't an indicator that he's feeling better, then the reddish hue of his once colorless hair certainly is. The color has returned to his skin and eyes as well, their glow soft as his gaze lands upon Rabbit, his pet nestling right into the pot he's working with. The nug squashes the frostlace, hunkering down as though it'd hide him.
Carlisle sighs, his back still to Poison. This is not the first time he's seen this.] Rabbit, if you cannot keep yourself out of my plants, you'll have to go inside.
no subject
Sorry... I think he's afraid of the cats. [Poison says, her tone genuinely apologetic as she holds one arm around the small critters in her coat. They don't seem too eager to escape into the cold, and even less interested in chasing after Rabbit.]
I can take them home and come back...