hadriel_logs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Open to everyone
What: #TeamTranquillity are in it to win it. Deciding to work together, the gang has taken over the library and converted it into a space for weary residents of Hadriel to catch their breath and just take it easy amid the intensifying competition in the city to invoke one emotion or another.
Where: The Library
When: March 15th to March 21st, duration of the event.
Warnings: Will Update if necessary!

[Hadriel's library has unfortunately seen little use; the books are either unreadable or cover material so random that only ~~Hope~~ someone who completely did not understand the concept of fun would have picked those books. Little wonder it's hardly frequented by Hadriel's residents.

But it's still a library: meaning, it's got plenty of space, and plenty of peace and quiet.

So with all the chaos erupting over the city? It could make the perfect sanctuary, a place to take a breather from the emotion wars. A place where a person could unwind over a cup of coffee, tea or hot chocolate, knit a sweater in peace, or even plunge themselves into pillow/blanket fort and just take a nap. A place to relax.

A place for Tranquillity.

Which is why Team Tranquillity has taken over the library and converted it into a mini R&R. Tables and chairs have been pushed to the side to allow for floor space, and comfortable chairs, sofas and even beanie bags, all in softer pastel colours, dot the empty space. A couple of tables and chairs have been left as well, so that those in need of them can use them as they'd like. And of course, the giant pillow fort bundled in one corner for people to unceremoniously throw themselves into.

The members of Team Tranquillity are all around to ensure that your time in the Tranquillity Space is as relaxing as can be. Some members are even offering services, ranging from massages to meditation, gentle exercises to a steaming hot cup of joe. Knitting classes, advice on handling emotional stress when under torture and trauma, and even some fortune-telling for light laughs.

And it's perfectly alright to drag a beanie bag to your own personal corner and just crash there for the day. No judgement from Team Tranquillity.

A message is sent out via the network to inform Hadriel's citizens of the new place in town to get away from it all. Drop by whenever, do what you need to relax and recharge. It's a stressful world out there, and sometimes we all need to take some time to chill out, right?

Welcome, to the Tranquillity Space.]

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Having spent the last few days keeping an eye on the library and enjoying the peace there (save for the obvious, notable interruption) provided by the rest of Tranquility's team, Nick had seen the booth pop up in the corner, but hadn't had the time to stop by and see what it was all about. There'd been the aforementioned interruption to deal with, then some trouble at the bar with members of the other teams who were really taking this 'competition' to heart, and at one point, the booth had visitors, one of whom Nick was doing his damnedest to avoid for the time being. All in all, things had been busy.

It's several days into this team-based game of the gods when he walks past the booth again. His mind is completely elsewhere -- it's hard not to be when Danse is around, reminding him not only of the Commonwealth, but of some unknown history between the two of them -- when through the soft whirr of his processor, Nick hears a voice call out to him. Those golden eyes of his flick in the direction of it, toward the booth, then back to the rest of the library. All seems quiet today; he can take a break. Henry would probably tell him he should, since he's not doing Team Tranquility any favors by not relaxing. He's not keen on this scheme the gods have cooked up, but at least Tranquility would be a preferable winner over Rage or Confusion. Better not accidentally support them if he can help it.

And so, he steps inside. "There something I can help you with?"

Now this is interesting. Certain aspects of him bears the likeness of another individual here, in that even Ravine can't quite get a good read on them. Not surprising, as the machines of her world never quite achieved sentience, but have proven to be helpful assets notwithstanding.

Does he tire? Does he dream? How does he think, feel? Surely he must be capable. Why, if not for his appearances, one would easily mistaken the owner of that voice for human.

"Nick Valentine, is it?"

For once, she obtained his name not from his head but word of mouth, or a passing thought from one of the others on their team.

He smiles. "You've heard of me."

Nick isn't entirely surprised; he's kind of hard to miss, given what he is, what he looks like, and his heavy involvement with the Guard. On top of that, he saw her speaking to Danse, and there's no telling what the Paladin said about him. Nothing good, that's for certain.

But Nick keeps that though to himself for now. "I'm guessing you're new to town, since I haven't seen you around. Well, aside from this little operation you've had set up here for the past few days." A gal of her stature is equally hard to miss.

"Who hasn't?" Ravine says, perhaps a little jokingly. But really, it's hard to miss a beat. The Guard aren't much of a secret, even if they've been omitted from that little 'welcome manual'.

Not that she needed it.

She returns with a smile of her own. "People have a habit of not noticing me all that much. But, yes, I am new."

And Nick here looks like he's seen better days, but she doesn't mention that, or even balk in horror at his appearance. She has, after all, seen much, much worse.

Nick can't help that smirk that tugs at him; he can't imagine that people wouldn't notice her, as it's obvious she's more than just a little tall even when she's sitting down. Maybe she's mastered the art of the low profile, though the glasses indoors and the booth don't exactly make her inconspicuous.

But he's not here to ask questions regarding her appearance, as they can be deceiving. He does have one, though: "Welcome to Hadriel, then. So what is it you've had going on in here the past few days?"

The 'Art of a Low Profile' sure is one way of putting it.

"You could call it fortune telling. But really, I'm just here for the ambiance."

If one isn't adverse to dark lighting and an edge for the occult, then this may be relaxing. The jury's still out on that last one, however.

Dark places have never bothered Nick, though give the world he comes from, that's no surprise. There are worse things out there.

"Had many people come in?"

From the looks of things, someone else would have more cause to fear dark places than Nick. With eyes like his, the only thing missing is ominous music and a jump scare.

Lucky for them, he's on their side. Even if one of the members of their ranks does not share in the same fortune.

"Some have come, with mixed results. I'm not too worried, however."

The truth can be scary. It can hurt.

The truth can indeed hurt, though Nick finds the unknown to be a far greater danger at times.

"Just so long as no one is giving you trouble. You just holler if you need anything, Miss...?"

There'd be her invitation to give him her name, as she knows his already, and he doesn't like being at a complete disadvantage.

"Ravine," she replies without missing a beat. "That is what I'm called now."

She's adopted it for so long that it may as well be a part of her. That human part of her has been shed like snakeskin.

Dark hair curling past her shoulders, she shakes her head. "And no need to worry on my behalf. I can't be hurt. Not in the way you'd think, anyway."

What she's called now is an odd way of putting it, but the city has a lot of unusual people, himself included. He's got no room to talk about names and identities.

Nor about injuries. He might not eat, sleep, or bleed like a regular human, but he's not invulnerable. No one is.

"Can't be hurt, huh?" he asks, curious. "We've got immortals, we've got vampires, a werewolf or two, and your run-of-the-mill machines like myself. So what do we classify you as, if you don't mind me asking?"

Something tells her that I'm just a normal girl wouldn't cut it. Nothing about her demeanor indicates normalcy even by many of these people's standards, and she hasn't made much an effort to appear as such. It would only be a matter of time before truth would come to light, anyway.

"I am none of those things, for starters." As she says this, she starts clearing the low table of the now-emptied teapot, cold to the touch under her gloved fingers. There's no need of it for either of them. "Like everything else, we are something of a dying breed where I come from."

Which is ironic, really. But it was bound to happen sooner or later, given the state of the world and humankind as a whole.

Despite this, she doesn't appear troubled by any means. She smiles to him, wisps of black hair hanging over her long face. "Classify me as whatever you want. I'm already dead."

Because telling him to call her a 'Psycho' quite possibly wouldn't go over well.

Nick lets out a quiet, hollow laugh, muttering under his breath. "You and me both."

He probably could have stood to keep that information to himself, but that itching sense of camaraderie for his teammates is starting to bleed into his behavior. He's aware enough to know it, too -- that gets a sigh out of him. At least Tranquility isn't as bad a choice as Rage or Confusion. After the last major stint Confusion had brought to town, he'd be happy if he never had to deal with her ever again.

"Guess we'll just classify you as Ravine, then," he continues. "Doesn't have to be more complicated than that, since it sounds like things might be complicated enough as it is."

"Really? I could hardly tell!"

A bit of innocent humor on her part. She knows full well how Nick looks, and how he must get treated as a result. It doesn't take a fortune teller to tell that much.

Complicated doesn't even begin to cover it. But she smiles, and makes light. "It's only as complicated as you make it be. On the contrary, I try to keep things simple. Always easier that way."

Hence why classification 'dead' works better than classification 'dead person who guides other dead souls', in her most humble opinion.

"I agree," Nick replies, keeping his answer simple, as well. There's a reason he's found it easier to just introduce himself by name or profession most days: when people starting thinking too hard on what he is, they don't pay any attention to what he's actually trying to do. Of course, some folks continue to judge him based on surface appearances, whether it's the air of a former cop that follows him around, or the fact he works with the Guard. It's a practice in patience.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Ravine," he says with a polite tip of his weathered hat. "I'd stick around, but you never know when someone is going to try to shake things up. If it's not one thing, it's another around here."

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