multiversallogs | How many goodly creatures are there here!

How many goodly creatures are there here! :: GAME OPENER

Welcome to Baedal.

These are the first words newcomers hear when the door opens and they are invited into their new world. Some fuss, some fight, some need time before they have the courage to step outside. Others, shell-shocked or jaded, go quietly along with the proceedings.

They are given brief instructions; a repeat of what's described in the pamphlet and a door key.

Please stay in your room. There will be dinner soon.

It's been almost a day for some. For others, only an hour's wait. The latest newcomer is lead straight from the arrival room to the dining hall where candles and lanterns have been set out to compensate for failing electricity. (Those who have been here longer explain about rolling blackouts.) The food, however, is warm, varied and plentiful. Seating is open, and less conventional chair are available to those who need them.

There are many strange faces around the table, the majority of these recent arrivals. The proprietor of the Valhalla Inn is here, as is some of her staff. The Sheriff of Mog Hill is introduced, his function detailed. The reason for the dinner is explained:

It's a celebration. A new cohort has finally been officiated; CeidaryBlue523. Your cohort. Please. Introduce yourself. Mingle. Get to know your fellows, they will be your brothers and sisters for as long as you live in this city.

((OOC post for discussion and coordination.))

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Well, thank goodness he doesn't actually have to describe how intestines look like or feel or how there are so many of them shoved into such a tiny space. His whole body language relaxes again into something approaching the companionable, lazy slump most of his unit back home had perfected across every piece of surface available to them.

"Well now." He frowns in a thoughtful echo of Jysiri, looking down at his own picked-over plate. "Most days the city I'm from has electric lights. Seattle, Washington in the USA. My father's friend was a fishmonger down in the market and he got his supplier to take us all out on the boat one evening; you could see the lights of the city twinkling up and down the coastline after dark and from the water it looked like a whole other city was twinkling back. Very pretty, I thought."

Jysiri picks up on him suddenly becoming relaxed, and just figures the guy doesn't actually want to be interrogated about being human, which is absolutely fine with him. He smiles, then grins at the description.

"That is lovely. Electricity's its own sort of magic." He pauses to finish off his food. "I don't care for how colors look under gas light, and not many of the people who are not kenaki have those, regardless."

Thank god for new friends with more tact then he's used to, that's all Malcolm has to say there.

"Gas lights would look a lot like candle light, I'm guessing?" Mal pulls a tiny face, letting his compainion know he's in complete agreement. "It's hard to work by firelight -- too many shadows in the wrong places. I'd prefer to have sunlight then candlelight, any time."

He waves a hand towards Jysiri's robes. "I can see how those wouldn't look the same by gaslight; it'd be hard to match the colours correctly wouldn't it?"

"As I understand it, mammals can't see as many colors as we can." Jysiri fingers the sleeve of his outermost robe. "Sunlight is always best. We've had some success in replicating it, though I don't believe I'll be getting my hands on a real sunstone here, unless I'm very lucky... but if one is not working, the right candlelight is nice. I mean to get a few, when funds allow. Do you suppose that you'll have difficulty finding work, here?"

"Makes sense; otherwise we wouldn't have something called the 'visible spectrum' I suppose." Mal nods agreeably, all the while slightly amazed at what he'd actually retained from high school. Maybe his parents had been right about college. "I can see a lot of blues in your robe but I suppose it's nowhere near as vibrant to me then, huh?"

His eyes drift down to where Jysiri is fingering the fabric of his robe; his mouth opens and then closes. Christ Almighty, it had been a while since he'd thought of any of his skills in anything other then a medical capacity. "I. Well, there's the basic first aid skills--" not that anything he got to do could be classified as 'basic' anymore "-- but my father taught me to tailor and I'm a fair head with numbers and plants."

A sudden mental image wavers into place of himself hanging a sign that reads 'Stitches - Where we repair the holes in your hide, your clothes and offer the bouquet to apologize with!'

He snorts.

"I'm not sure how I would describe it to you," Jysiri says, also peering at his sleeve. "I had much better examples at home, at any rate, though... still. Hm." He lets go of the fabric and jerks his head to look back at Malcom.

"Oh! You're a tailor! That's an excellent profession to pursue, should you choose. There's much less blood." He lifts his eyebrows, concerned. It's always good to have a way to avoid dealing with horrible tasks.

"T-there is, isn't there." He doesn't mean to -- it probably wasn't meant to be a joke after all -- but the momentary shock ends up with him biting back a smile before he finally gives into the laughter. It's not a boisterous sort of laughter (his shoulders lift and fall slightly as he huffs silently into the collar of his shirt) but it's chuckling all the same and Mal immediately tries to apologize for it.

"Sorry. I'm sorry! It's just. I think that was probably what my father would have said, if he'd known I'd planned to jump out of aeroplanes to bandage up other jackasses who wanted to jump out of planes instead of go to college."

Jysiri doesn't laugh. His expression remains concerned, but he holds up his hand, at the apology. "No, it's fine. I'm not being flippant. You are so fortunate for the chance to get away from that. There isn't much room in the world for creation. When the chance presents itself... that's a rare blessing."

The few final chuckles tapper down to a calming woosh of released breath and Mal smiles, lips tight. "It was, you're right. I know you weren't being flippant it was just...the surprise, I suppose. I wanted really badly to go away and be anywhere not there and it sort of was a weird blessing that someone listened."

Malcolm waves his own hands at Jysiri's in an attempt to get him to forget it, to make the apology a null point between them. "I just also don't know if I could just go back to hemming up a pantline when I've been hemming up people for so long. Anyway. What. What about you? Are you going to find a place to make your talisman in or start fresh."

Jysiri smiles again, slightly. He nods as Mal describes wanting to be elsewhere, and is quiet for a moment, considering this, but lets him change the subject.

"I will make my jewelry into talismans without having to serve any purpose other than creation, and that will be a perfect fresh start. I am pleased with that."

"So you managed to get away somewhere where the thing you love doing can just be the thing you love doing for yourself?" That's something Mal can understand (if he's understanding correctly, anyway) because he's pretty sure that's part of what he was fighting for.

Not that he was fighting or that he had anything to do with Jysiri's freedom to do so. Mal gives himself a mental shake for being self-centered and grins. "When you run out of precious stones maybe someone could be bribed into showing you how to blow glass. My father bought my mother plenty of perfectly nice paste jewellery."

It's Jysiri's turn to chuckle, and this laughter is amused. "Oh, no. I can work with glass, as well. It's a useful skill. I wish I had more pieces to show you, I really do. I don't do it only for myself, but my work has been useful to people who weren't interested in creation. That's not important now."

Malcolm settles for looking quietly pleased with the state of his current world. "I'd be pleased as punch to be one of your first costumers when you get yourself up and running. I don't have much in the way of goods to offer but, well, we've already gone over the services I can wrangle my way around."

Not that Mal would know what to ask for or even what to do with a talisman but he honestly would be pleased even if Jysiri handed him a uselessly pretty bauble.

He smiles, looking down at the table. It's not quite a show of modesty. Maybe gratitude. "I will make something for you. It may take a little time, but we have that."

Modestly isn't really something Mal's currently familiar with on behalf of others anyway -- boys talk big -- so he mostly takes it as pleasure in the remark and leaves it at that. "My schedule appears to be wide open, it's true. Mostly it's going to be filled with periods of stressing over housing and stressing over some of the creepier things this stupid pamphlet says."

Mal is used to pamphlets cheerfully telling him weird societal facts by now (did you know the British are a reserved, tea-drinking people and that America was allied with them against the Germans? Also were you aware that the Germans? Are bad? :O) but there was just something offputting about the way it casually mentioned multiple gods taking an active interest in his doings that sits wrong, among other things.

"You'll work it out," Jysiri says. "If you don't, anyway, sell what I give you. The pamphlet was somewhat..." He lifts his claws and flexes them. The description he'd like to attach to the pamphlet is hanging there, but better off unspoken.

"Yeah, I will." Feeling he may be wearing the conversation down, Mal finally gets to his feet with a groan, grabbing his emptied plate as if he were going to take it with him, not really thinking about why that might be weird. "You'll come find me soon, huh? I've got a pack full of dull goods that might get us some lee-way in finding money."

Haha but uh, not the drugs. He is definitely not referring to selling the drugs.

"I will find you soon. We're both staying here, after all." Jysiri smiles again, and picks up his own plate. If it's time to pick up and move on, he'll follow suit, but wants to get back to his room. This is a lot of people, all at once, and he's had his fill.

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How many goodly creatures are there here! :: GAME OPENER

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