multiversallogs | Entries tagged with seoraj

Who: Everyone.
What: The Harvest Festival!
Where: Howl Barrow outdoor park
When: Through the weekend.
Notes: The companion OOC post for this log is here if you have any questions or concerns!
Warnings: Please give me a head's up if a thread contains something that should be edited into this section.

Locations: COSTUME PARTY, COSTUME PARTY - VIP, MARKET STREET, CARNIVAL GAMES, THE PARK.

serjeant

Who: Seoraj and Hasibe Ozcelik
What: Grieving.
Where: Amaryllis.
When: Over the weekend.
Notes: Sad faces.
Warnings: Discussion of death.

Grief is not something that Seoraj has ever done alone.

He knows loss - it's a familiar path to tread, a fallen comrade, a lost lover. They've never been the same person, before, but he's no stranger to the quiet that comes afterwards, when motion can no longer be maintained and the space where they aren't feels accusatory. The space where he isn't. Seoraj wakes up to silence in the wee hours of the morning, unsettled, and drinks tea alone in his kitchen, spreading his hands on the rough wooden table where he got accustomed to drinking, sometimes, with someone else. At home- at home he would never be alone, right now. He's never known a kitchen to be empty; the sound of someone trying to sleep filtering down. A cat sleeping near the hearth, where it's warm. His cousin sitting beside him with something stronger than tea and not meeting his eyes- Ewar is a boy in his memory, but he knows that hasn't been true for much longer than he's been in Baedal. He is, he's sure, still a boy in the mind of his brothers. In the mind of his sister, especially.

He tries to imagine, while he's saddling the horse who is now his and who will probably never get a name, what she'd say. Everything he can think of sounds disapproving - uncharitable of him, maybe, but that's the way of sisters, and it comes of love. He's had few problems in his life she wasn't pretty sure could be solved by a wife, and he finds himself leaning against the side of the horse, laughing-

It's just he's never done this by himself. He doesn't have it in mind to start now.

civilobedience

Who: The Militia, the city, and you.
What: The Arena Riots.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist.
When: Newdi, Eliaderen 1. (Monday Oct 1st)
Notes: Companion post for questions and plotting is here.
Warnings: Violence, police brutality, disturbing content and imagery, graphic death.

It's apparent even before dawn that something out of the ordinary is happening. Canton sheriffs are roused from their sleep or pulled away from their work to be told that on no uncertain terms, today will be a day that they do not leave their neat lines on the map. That their individual offices will be responsible for all crime and unrest within their jurisdictions, with no help; the powers that be offer no details, but the creeping feeling in their presence suggests no questions would be tolerated anyway – the implication that they'll all be watched is a strong one. In Mog Hill, Sheriff Norrington proceeds as he always does under such orders. In Mafaton, leadership is stoic but one deputy laughs, sharp and bitter, while the Emissary of the Council merely checks his watch, unseen underground. Sir Hellsing is pulled away from her dinner in the Guild Hall, a Sobek Croix deputy anxiously relaying the news. The sound of shattered glass disturbs the pre-dawn silence in Flyside, a brick hurled by some faceless figure into the front window of Thames – and nothing else.

From the Spire, hooded Militiamen move quietly and uniformly south, to Griss Twist. They are followed by wagons, full of prisoners.

caballero

Who: Bruce Wayne, some Militia agents, and the fog. Later, Seoraj.
What: The jig isn't up, but only by chance.
Where: Serpolet and beyond. Eventually, Stoneshell.
When: Yesterdayish.
Notes: Batman can't win every time, also the Militia sucks. In this post, asskickings, and also an explosion; if anyone has a character in Serpolet they might have seen/heard it.
Warnings: Violence! Also fog horrors. And uh, feelings.

( and you know me - well, you think you do. )

aarnethompson

Who: Alba, Alexia Swiftdawn, Anna Demirovna, Bruce Wayne, Cliona Donovan, Data, Don Draper, Ilde Decima, Irene Adler, Jae-hyun Kim, Jaime Lannister, Kalinda Sharma, Marie-Sixtine St. Vincent, Martel, Nuray Amedi, Penelope Lane, Odessa Wander, Pepper Potts, Rex Lewis, Seoraj, Shrieky, Sunny, Wolfgang Einhorn, Xas
What: Something bad is afoot, and you must help.
Where: Abrogate Green, Badside, Barrackham, Chnum, Echomire, Flag Hill, Gallmarch, Ketch Heath, Pelorus Fields, Raven's Gate, Sangwine, Serpolet, Sobek Croix, Stoneshell, and the northern woods
When: July 22nd to the 30th
Notes: People are slow right now and a few are on hiatus, so slow-tagging and back-tagging are totally fine. Please check the accompanying OOC post for info and to coordinate.
Warnings: Disturbing content, will include violence, choking, drowning, body horror, and animal death.

Strange events tend to go unnoticed in Baedal, compared to the much stranger things happening around them. People don't tend to be noticed when they go missing, either. The city takes these things in stride. After all, people get called back to their homeworld all the time, or they die. Everyone knows this.

Still, rumors start cropping up around the city about the sudden appearance of twelve identical towers positioned around the city like the face of a clock...

ALBA ♞ Cliona Donovan
DON DRAPER ♞ Pepper Potts, Kalinda Sharma
ILDE DECIMA ♞ Irene Adler, Marie-Sixtine St. Vincent
JAE-HYUN KIM ♞ Sunny
MARTEL ♞ Data, Jaime Lannister
NURAY AMEDI ♞ Alexia Swiftdawn, Anna Demirovna
ODESSA WANDER ♞ Rex Lewis
SEORAJ ♞ Bruce Wayne
SHRIEKY ♞ Xas
WOLFGANG EINHORN ♞ Penelope Lane

caballero

Who: ~~Bruce Wayne~~ "Tom" and you?
What: Some new stuff and some old stuff; there are a couple of thread starters but otherwise it's totally open.
Where: Various places - default starter is Bonetown, but if you'd like to bump into Kermit elsewhere, ping me to wrangle an idea, the world is our oyster.
Notes: I want your CR and I want your revenge. Tho I apologize ahead of time - Bruce is not really proactive socially so if you want to hurl your character at him you might have to be the one to poke him with a stick. Also his permissions post has been updated, so if you haven't interacted with him before it's worth a read. I'M SORRY THIS CHARACTER IS SO DIFFICULT.
Warnings: TBA.

( they've all returned resting on the mountain side )

thethingsidoforlove

Who: Jaime Lannister, Seoraj, Sonja Garin, and YOU
What: Various encounters with Jaime in Baedal.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist generally, the Twelve Point divinity temples, other places your heart desires.
When: Whenever you want.
Notes: An open log and one closed thread! Tag in however otherwise, hopefully the above is a guide. But if you would like to do a thing and want me to kick off a thread, I am happy to open one, just let me know.
Warnings: Maybe language, possible medieval dickbag behaviour and the like. Probable violence in the case of the Arena.

( and bitter runs for glory )

caballero

Who: ~~Bruce~~ Tom & Seoraj.
What: Camping, completely free of ulterior ~~alibi~~ motive.
Where: North of Flag Hill.
When: Beginning roughly on the 30th.
Warnings: Weirdness, violence, sexuality.

They leave early, because that's the tradition of camping - before dawn, as they have to make it up to the northern edge of the city proper first ("'Morning-") - the provisional shops built into the cliff face that hosts the treacherous ways up into the forests are helpful, the proprietors less so; that they generally profit off fools isn't anything they keep quiet. Bruce isn't bothered. Cold morning air and physical exertion with dirt under his hands makes some far-off part of him feel at peace.

It's just starting to become properly bright out when they reach the summit that'll lead them into the woods, and he takes a moment to stop and look out over the view of the city. Up here it's quiet, but not silent - it's not an absence of sound, but an absence of people, and looking down on Baedal from the vantage point of the highest natural point in the only landscape they have available makes it feel like another world.

Remarkable.

caballero

Who: ~~Bruce~~ Tom and Ilde, eventually Seoraj.
What: PONIES.
Where: The southern farmlands.
When: S..OMETIME.. probably before the log with Wolfgang, we kept saying we were going to do this log (IT STARTED BEFORE WE MOVED TO DW), so it's happening whenever is convenient for our timelines.
Notes: BATMAN AND A FAERIE ARE GOING TO SEE PONIES, DEAL WITH IT.
Warnings: None it's ponies.

Based on what he knows of her from the network, Bruce isn't entirely sure why Ilde is here with him - hanging out. Hell, he's not sure why he's here, but it seems like she's got more of a reason to not want to spend time with some human guy, easily trumping his desire to shun all socialization on principle. Maybe she's just curious, or maybe the opportunity to do this with someone who knows what he's doing overrides whatever else - maybe Bruce should stop trying to analyze everyone else all the fucking time, and think about himself for two minutes. (Never.)

It's dark on the edges of Stoneshell, rural, lacking in light pollution or even courtesy lamps, but the moon is good enough illumination for him. This won't be the first time he's wondered about the gravity and cosmic location of Baedal; the moon doesn't look quite like Earth's Luna, or even Cruithne. His boots crunch in the grass, noises soft but deliberate - he could be silent, as he moves, but it would be strange, seeing as he isn't alone.

serjeant

Who: Seoraj & Bruce
What: Some furniture moving, some lunch, some social awkwardness. (Bruce.)
Where: Starting in Bruce's Bonetown apartment.
When: Sukkardi, midday.
Warnings: None currently.

No matter how strong you are, spending a morning moving furniture (and up stairs, which is about as much fun as trying to get a goat to back down them, not that this is something he's ever actually done) is a pain in the arse. It could be worse, and for all that he's quiet and a bit of an odd thing, Tom's sort of good company; curious company, anyway. Seoraj isn't entirely sure what to make of him - sometimes he's sure they're getting on, and conversation is easy (if sometimes strange), and then other moments he can't tell what's going on in the other man's head but he can tell he's not invited to the party.

He's mostly opted to err on the side of letting Tom tell him to push off if he wants to. He hasn't, yet.

caballero

Who: Seoraj & Tom who is really Bruce.
What: Nerdings.
Where: A stelanmancy repository in Flag Hill.
When: ~Today.
Notes: ~~Wildly making shit up~~ Worldbuilding.
Warnings: TBA, don't really expect any though.

It's been less than a week since he's found work, and only a meager few days since his new co-workers have discovered his affinity for devices and materials beyond the ken of Baedal's technology. Familiarity with these things are common - especially in the newly chosen - but proficiency to his degree is rare, and even rarer to find in someone looking for work in the engineering field. So it's no surprise that one of the first assignments he's given is to go into a highly secure facility and dig through looking for ultra-rare materials. He actually knows what they are, who cares who he is or where he's from.

( i'll miss you and i don't wish you bad well i forgive you )

caballero

Who: ~~Bruce Wayne~~ Tom and you.
What: Creeping out from the fringes and the shadows, investigating the city through a closer lens.
Where: Various areas in Baedal, mostly the central districts, and along the river.
When: Coardi (Wednesday), or any day this week after that, I'm easy.
Notes: OPEN LIKE AN OPEN THING. I want your cr and I want your revenge, tag in under whatever scenario your dark heart desires.
→ new note: if you'd like to start a new thread please come up with a new setting on another day, Coardi has hit critical mass of things Mr Hermit BatCrab would put up with before vanishing back into the shadows. :E
Warnings: TBA. (Swearing? Not much else.)

Bruce doesn't want to admit it at first, but after he gets a decent night's sleep and has a real conversation with someone, he feels a lot better. It took him an hour of silent reflection on Hasi's little balcony to come to terms with having felt awful to begin with - it's not being here, it's everything else, being here is a strange misstep but it isn't enough to throw him, not really - and to accept that attempting to remain a ghost in the machine wasn't an acceptable plan of action. For a whole armful of reasons. Also on that balcony, struck by the view at night, with oddly-powered lights set into strange buildings like scattered candles and gems, Baedal reminded him of Baku, maybe Lahore, and the inoffensive memories chided at him from quiet corners about his aseptic behavior.

( join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street, and being the noise. drink all your passion and be a disgrace. close both eyes to see with the other eye. )

serjeant

Who: Master Stoneshell and YOU?
What: Blacksmiths do good business in a nervous town.
Where: Seoraj's Forge.
When: Whenever.
Notes: If you'd like me to set up a thread in the comments to run into him somewhere else, drop me a line.
Warnings: Stay tuned.

Chaos is profitable, when your business is weaponry.

It isn't that he doesn't get by otherwise - the farmers keep him busy, and he does casual business with his swords and his knives, and beyond that he's not exactly strapped for cash in the first place - but demand spikes when citizens start eyeing their neighbours the way he's seen lately, and there's money to be made in that. People wanting silver crosses attached to steel stakes and swords they can have blessed by a local priest and one fellow, memorably, gives him a small vial of something to mix into the molten metal before he makes the knife. For the price he gets to name on that one, he doesn't ask what it is.

(He holds onto the vial, though, with the traces left of it; he makes sure he has receipts and records for every purchase and who made it. It seems like the sort of thing it might be useful to have, later, and it isn't as though keeping records isn't standard practise.)

Politics aren't his strong suit and neither are supernatural creatures, but he knows money and he knows trouble - he's been seeing a bit more of both, lately, and if you asked him, then he'd probably say the further he goes, the more familiar everything seems to be.

serjeant

Who: Seoraj and YOU.
What: The smithy is open for business, which means taking orders and working up basics for sale.
Where: Seoraj's Forge in Stoneshell.
When: Weekdays, business hours. Specify if it matters.
Notes: This is generally here for anyone to whom blacksmiths are relevant!
Warnings: Archaic sexism.

Business may not be booming, but nevertheless it is well underway within a short time of Seoraj's acquisition. Most of his work to start with comes in through the farming communities, and the occupation is familiar in a way that lays out most starkly how familiar so much of this place is not. Steel works under his hands as it ever has, and the world outside the smithy marches on in its own, new way. Immersing himself in that is his way, though he's never had an opportunity like this before; he insinuates himself into life here as if it were an old cloak and not so crisply new as it is.

People begin to talk to him. That will be good, he thinks, though he doesn't yet know what for.

primogen_vampirate

Who: Mina and YOU
What: A "thank God we're not dead" party
Where: Common Room, Valhalla Inn
When: Wednesday evening
Notes: Party log; please specify if you're tagging someone in particular, or if it's open season on your character
Warnings: Angering Mina probably results in unhappiness

There were two things Mina rarely did; over-indulge and wear dresses. Tonight, she decided, was a night to throw both inhibitions to the wind. And so, as she made her way up to the common room, she made her way in style, wearing a slinky crimson gown with no back and a plunging neckline. She looked good. Classy, as any society woman of her day. Well, the 1930s, anyway, since she would always consider her day to be the 1720s, really. The only drawback of the dress was that it left both her pirate brand and her Valkyrien Amazon tattoo uncovered, but at this point, Mina was fairly certain that no one would recognize or care about either marking.

The room had been arranged to her satisfaction. She enjoyed ostentation immensely, but opted for a more low-key take on the celebrations. The lights were pleasantly dimmed and there was jazz music playing out of some marvelous contraption that Mina had borrowed. Around the room, she had a few trays of food arranged. Since Mina had no sense of taste to speak of, she hired someone to take care of the food and drinks. The only culinary arrangement she had made for herself was a special mixed drink; store-bought blood (dreadful though it was) laced with ample amounts of rum. That was being kept under a table for now.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the angle of her fedora slightly. There was no telling what to expect tonight. And frankly, given her experiences in Chicago, she probably should have known better to arrange for any kind of public affair. But Mina was in a bad mood and when she was in a bad mood, she tended to revert into her flippant, false persona to spare herself of too much thought. Besides, she was in the mood to dance with someone handsome.

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multiversallogs

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Entries tagged with seoraj

open log :: time made me soft around the edges

a velt screen between your self and the brutal art of dying

The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

it seems like everything i've heard just might be true

in the woods dark and deep I offer you eternal sleep

someone's mouth said, "paint them all red"

there were stern stands

then the riddle gets solved and you push me up to this

there's no map, and a compass won't help at all

( citizens should not fear their government. this will be enforced. )

when will it start to almost break you

there is a community of the spirit.

it’s naive to pray for world peace if we’re not going to change the form in which we live

you must be sure that the doubts and questions are your own

A toast to that invincible bunch [OPEN]

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