Intro Log: Don't Wake Tonberry

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for September
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: September 10th-13th
Warnings: Cute monsters, a way to pass the time, and plenty of newbies!

Waking up in Hadriel certainly has its down sides, but if this weird murdercave city is good at one thing, it's keeping people entertained. As you awaken on the hard ground of the colosseum, you might see a rectangular cardboard box lying near you. Ignore it for now, as you get your bearings, but if you get bored? Well, you'll find these exciting and unique board games will keep you entertained!

But how could you possibly get bored, when there are plenty of cute monsters around to keep you company? Sharing the colosseum with all the new arrivals are Tonberries. In addition to their natural cuteness defense, they also carry very large knives. They're slow-moving and look innocent and even friendly, but be careful - one strike from that knife and you'll be a bloody mess. They won't attack unless you get too close, but who doesn't want to hug a Tonberry? And of course, if you attack, they'll counter with extreme prejudice.

Managed to resist the urge to hug a Tonberry? Safely escaped from the clutches of the colosseum, new board game in tow? Awesome! Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers September 10th-13th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[silvercrusader]

I. Coliseum, 9/10

[Polnareff wakes with a jerk, limbs flailing as he bolts upright. Almost immediately a creature springs up next to him, helmeted head turning from side to side in tandem with Polnareff's own. Nothing presents themselves immediately as a threat, but Polnareff still leaps to his feet, as above him the creature brandishes his sword.

The Tonberries are given a vaguely interested stare, but so long as none of them wander close, Polnareff is content to just stare for now. They're weird, no doubt about it, but they don't seem to be much of a threat.

If you catch his gaze, he'll eye you for a moment before taking a step forward, calling out to you.]

C'mere for a second, yeah?

II, Coliseum, 9/10, closed to seventyeight

[He's been up and about for nearly an hour before he spots Abdul.

Or, well: before he spots a man who, from the back, look a little like Abdul. It's not him. It's a tall figure in red with dark hair, but that's not unusual. It's not him; it's an illusion. A trick of the light. He's looking for the right details in the wrong places, because the man twenty feet ahead of him is someone else. Abdul is dead. Polnareff knows that for an absolute fact.

And yet he strides over too quickly, closing the distance between them, his heart echoing hard in his ears. It's not him, but Polnareff will never stop wondering if he doesn't check.]

Hey. Hey!

III. Wild Card, 9/10 - 13

[Mostly, Polnareff will be wandering. With Silver Chariot floating behind him, with Abdul safely and suddenly returned to him, Polnareff looks around his new surroundings with fascinated interest. This can't possibly be a permanent residence, it can't be-- but for now, he's content to stay put.

The temples, the apartments, even the monsters get an interested glance. He's more than a decent fighter; maybe you'll catch him teasing one of those creatures, baiting it into a fight just to see what it'll do. More likely, you're the one that interests him, though: catch his eye and he'll come over, striking up a conversation.]

Hey! You new here too?

III;

[hotspurred]

[As part of the Guard, Henry does daily patrols. Today, as he does so, he pays particular attention to the new faces: it's important to be aware of everyone in their unfortunate community. That task is made easier when they are apparently inclined towards friendliness.]

No. [Henry's gaze quickly strays to the figure floating behind. Little wonder, since Henry himself wears full plate armour and mail, from gorget to sabatons.] Be that... some manner of enchanted armour?

[It has eyes, but they appear to be the only actual body part, so he has no idea what to class it as. All that's clear is that it is accompanying this man.]

[silvercrusader]

Be th--

[What, are they at Medieval Times? He's bemused enough by the wording of that sentence that it takes him a moment to understand the content. Armor, and he half-turns, staring accusingly at Chariot before glancing back at Henry.]

Him? You can see him?

[--which must mean Henry is another Stand user. But one who's either playing dumb or really doesn't realize what he is. Polnareff's smile disappears; behind him, Chariot's blade rises defensively.]

[hotspurred]

[In response, Henry lifts his shield to a half-resting pose, ready to raise fully if need be. Yet his sword hand remains lax at his side and his blade stays sheathed, indication that he has no intention of encouraging hostility.

His brow furrows in confusion.]

For what reason would you expect otherwise?

[silvercrusader]

Most people don't.

[Nobody does, actually; not unless they have one too. Polnareff glances the man up and down. He doesn't seem to have a Stand, but then again, he could be hiding it.]

You have a Stand?

[hotspurred]

No.

[Henry's confusion smooths out, and he sets a hand on his hip.]

Perhaps the gods have altered your power.

[It would not be the first such case.]

[silvercrusader]

[Gods again. This isn't the first time he's heard about them, but the name still sits uneasy.]

They do that often?

II;

[seventyeight]

[Today, Abdul finds himself conflicted.]

[This is an unusual state, for him. He knows many things, but he knows himself best, and not knowing himself is a terrifying prospect. This day, this place, finds him lost, though. In far too many ways. For example: he knows for a fact he is dead. That's unquestionably true. He remembers dying. Vividly, in fact. He couldn't forget it if he tried.]

[And yet he trusts his senses well enough to realize that he is now without a doubt alive. In a place he doesn't recognize, certainly, and which no one would mistake for a positively-inclined afterlife--but also very much alive, because dead men don't walk around breathing unless they're very desperate indeed. He wasn't. He was . . .]

[Anyway. It's strange, knowing how dead you are and are not, both facts at the same time. They war with each other in his head, his every heartbeat mocking those memories of the pressing lack of air in the void. So he occupies himself with other things. In the moment he's called, he's peering over the game entitled LIE CHEAT STEAL with his nose wrinkled in disapproval; in the next moment, he's turned on his heel with an ungainly, unnatural movement as he tries to lift his arms, realizes he doesn't have any, then realizes, no, yes, he does. He does, he has both of his arms, he is breathing, he is alive, and Polnareff is--]

Polnareff?

[Stupid. Of course it's Polnareff, who else would it be, coming after him like that, but Polnareff can't be here. In this moment all logic flies out the window. If Polnareff is here with Abdul, who is dead, then Polnareff is dead too, and then what was the point?]

[Some treacherous part of him wonders, Did Dio kill everyone after all? Did it all mean nothing?]

[For once, nothing of emotion is hidden from his expression. He has no mental energy left for artifice. He looks lost, uncertain, half-raised hands trembling slightly with the weight of a nonsensical reality. And he shouldn't ask, he shouldn't--but he does anyway.]

You didn't, Polnareff. You didn't die. Did you?

[silvercrusader]

No-- no, Christ, no, I didn't die--

[But Abdul had. He'd died in an instant, swallowed up into that dimension of darkness. Polnareff grabs for Abdul's hands, gripping them tightly; they're whole, warm, Abdul's fingers rough and broad beneath his own. He likely looks an idiot, standing here holding his hands, but the seconds pass and he still doesn't want to let go.]

You're alive. This isn't . . . [A trick, but even as he says it, his tone dazed, he wonders. His eyes flick over Abdul's face. It seems normal; he looks just as Polnareff remembers, but he's been fooled before. A beat, and then:] I saw you die. How the hell are you here?

[seventyeight]

[Polnareff didn't die.]

[All right. That's a place to start. Polnareff says he didn't die, and in this he wouldn't lie. Not that he lies as a matter of habit, but especially not about something like this, not after everything that's happened.]

[And those are his hands. Those are real--Polnareff is always touching everyone, and these are his hands as Abdul remembers them, as they should be. Polnareff's eyes, Polnareff's confusion. And those hands are holding his hands, except he still can't quite think of them as his. It's too strange.]

I don't . . . know.

[He doesn't. And he doesn't want to think about not knowing, so he moves on.]

But I am alive. That's not in question. And so are you. So everything's--fine.

[silvercrusader]

[He thinks of Judgement's puppet. That Abdul had looked real, to be sure, but while he had sounded real, he hadn't spoken half so well. He'd been a shadow of Abdul. There had been none of the subtleties there, the little nuances that the Abdul here and now is showing. This Abdul-- his Abdul-- looks in shock; he keeps glancing up at him and back down to his hands, reeling. He's trying to understand how he isn't dead, and yet the first thing he'd done is ask after Polnareff. Judgement's puppet had never been so real.

This has to be real. This is real. This is really real, and it doesn't matter how or why, because it's enough that it is. There's a grin on his face, he realizes, wide and enthusiastic, and with a laugh he rushes forward, yanking Abdul into a hug.]

Yeah it's fine! God, come here-- yeah it's fine, god, Abdul-- let's figure out where the fuck we are.

[seventyeight]

[Oh. So they're hugging now. He's a little annoyed with himself, after he's done being startled, for being startled at all. It's Polnareff; he doesn't know what he expected. There's a long delay while he tries to remember how to respond. There's something, he's sure, but it takes longer than it should to bring it to the front of his mind.]

Mm--

[There it is. He wraps one arm awkwardly around Polnareff's shoulders and squeezes. After another moment, he even manages a smile.]

It's some kind of cave or very large building with other buildings inside it--that's all I know so far.

[silvercrusader]

[God, who cares? He will in a minute, but right now, they could be at the bottom of the sea for all he cares. Polnareff lingers in the hug, relishing the tight grip Abdul has on him. Any awkwardness or hesitation is ignored; this isn't a moment for things like that.

He's still grinning as he pulls back, and he stands just a touch too closely. He's not about to allow Abdul to get out of his line of sight, not again.]

Yeah. Come on, let's--

[He nods towards one of the exits. There's a few of those stupid looking monsters wandering around, but they're easily avoided. Polnareff shoves his hands in his pockets, but doesn't yet move to go. Just waits, leery of stepping ahead.]

[seventyeight]

[He wonders how long it's been for Polnareff. Since he-- And he should ask. Yes, he should, and will, but right now--]

[It's not that he can't. It's that he doesn't want to. It's cowardly, but he doesn't want it to stop, the closeness, because there's no one more real than Polnareff, so this--it's enough to keep him together until the next step. If there is a next step.]

[He might just disappear between one moment and the next. There's no way of knowing. Or rather, there usually is, but not here, not now, not after dying. Is Magician's Red still with him? He's almost afraid to find out.]

[Polnareff nods to the exit but doesn't go. Abdul's brows draw together in a flash of irritation. You don't have to worry about me so much is on the tip of his tongue, but then--no. No, he can't, no matter how wrong he feels he can't act like Polnareff isn't in the right to be concerned. He's talking to a dead man, after all. For the second time.]

Mm. Let's go.

[He claps Polnareff on the shoulder (his fingers are all his fingers) and heads out of the exit, sure in his turn to make sure Polnareff doesn't get too far behind. Once he's outside, he pauses, looking up at the cave's ceiling.]

It's nearly as dry as Cairo, but nowhere near as hot. Spacious, but not outside.

[silvercrusader]

Yeah.

[God, but he loves how clever Abdul is. He'd liked it before, but that was in an abstract, absent sort of way. He'd liked it because he could ask pretty much anything and get an answer. Only now does he appreciate just how brilliant his friend is.]

The buildings are messed up, too. Look--

[He points towards one of the spires. They're unsettling to look at for a reason Polnareff can't quite pin. It's just spirals, but he still glances away after a few seconds.]

[seventyeight]

[Polnareff sure is smiling a lot, even as he looks away from the spires. Abdul glances at them, too, then away, his brows furrowing.]

Are we supposed to be able to go in there? They don't look right.

[He sort of wants to go in the opposite direction from the buildings, but that doesn't make sense, does it? He glances from them to the colosseum, then in the other direction, towards the caves.]

I'm not sure any of these are good options.

iii.

[scarletcast]

[ It is always smart to know what the people around you can do. Wanda's fascination is largely with the silent silver knight following him around. ]

No, I have been here a while. What is that?

[ She points to the Stand. ]

[silvercrusader]

[She's not the first person who's seen Silver Chariot. She's also not the first person who ought not to be able to. Like, okay, maybe she's secretly a Stand user, but what kind of Stand user would ask? It'd be the world's worst ploy if she's trying to trick him, and there's no way she has one and hasn't realized. She looks to be his age, so she's got to know.

All of that translates into Polnareff wrinkling his nose. Behind him, Chariot shifts. He isn't standing, but there's a general feeling of shifting his weight from foot to foot. Anxiousness, because he's never been seen by so many people.]

My Stand.

[He waits. It's not an obvious explanation, but he wants to see if she'll understand it or not.]

Silver Chariot.

[--who nods, emphasizing that it's his name that was just mentioned.]

[scarletcast]

[ well it is.... standing....... ]

What does it do?

[silvercrusader]

He. He-- he's like . . .

[It's a Stand, man, come on. It does Stand stuff! No, he knows, it's just that he's still caught on the fact that this woman can somehow see Chariot and yet not understand.]

He fights with me. He's like . . . an extension of me.

[He lifts his left hand, fingers curling. Behind him, Chariot moves in unison, echoing him so perfectly there's no doubt they're connected.]

Offensive or defensive: whatever I need. You don't have anything like this?

[scarletcast]

[ Her face lights with understanding. Wanda curls her fingers, and scarlet drifts outwards from them. ]

Yes, I do.

[ Not something with a tangible form, no, but the principle is the same. ]

My name is Wanda. This [ she gestures, more scarlet drifts ] has no name.

[silvercrusader]

[Oh, and he brightens. Now things are making far more sense. True, she still could be an enemy, but somehow Polnareff doubts it.]

What's it do?

[Kind of a personal question, but she'll tell him or she won't. What are boundaries, right?]

[scarletcast]

I move things; I can destroy them. I also see what's inside your mind.

[ What are boundaries indeed. ]

[silvercrusader]

[Oh. Well. All right. That sounds like a far more powerful version of Joseph's Stand. Deadly, sure, but so is Chariot.]

You should-- my friend Abdul's here. He's a fortune teller, he gives out names for Stands sometimes. You should ask him to name yours, if you want.

[scarletcast]

If he thinks of one.

[ It doesn't feel like it's the same thing, anyway, but he's sincere; she doesn't want to throw that in his face. ]

Who are you?