etrayalogs | November Mingle

November Mingle

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: November 22nd - Early December
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, and an unexpected guest!
NOTES\WARNINGS: N/A, please note any needed warnings in threads.

⏵ arrival ⏴
Welcome to Etraya!

Arrival goes as expected - or it would, except it is not just Aurora that greets the newcomers as they arrive. Certainly they receive their earpiece so they can communicate with one another as those before them have, however there is what seems to be a woman waiting for them that is of a more flesh and blood persuasion as they leave the hospital. She carries an air about her that isn't quite like the newcomers themselves, but she is decidedly not one of the companion bots, nor Aurora.

She has bone-straight blonde hair reaching past her shoulders, with a straight-cut fringe hanging above her eyes. The black dress that ends just before her mid-thighs also has a rather revealing neckline, though the sleeves which cover her arms almost feel like a mockery of modesty considering the rest. She is also wearing black stockings and black pumps, and the red of her lipstick is striking against the extreme contrast in shades she otherwise holds.

As each newcomer independently files out of the hospital, she makes certain to garner their individual attention, either with a wave of her hand, a wiggle of her fingers, or directly calling them over. She is persistent, and with being so new, it is wise to heed her. Not that anyone can force one to, if they choose to walk away, nor does she seem interested in trying to, but she has her means for those proving stubborn.

However, those who aren't...

“Hey! I know you’re not just walking past me. I’ve got- you know, plot relevant, written all over me. I picked this dress out just for you, you know?’

“C’mere, listen up. Mama’s got a little bit of homework for you, but it’s gonna help you, too, okay? I need you to go find the hot goss, the piping hot tea on the street for me. Find out what everyone’s saying about the people we’re stuck with, okay? People are a lot more relaxed and honest when they talk about others, right? This is about efficiency.

Efficiency, honey.

Don’t worry, I’ll be in the trenches, too. But make sure you come find me again. I’ll be around here, okay? I know you’re as confused as I am. Well no. I’m much less confused than you are. But if you can tell me about the people here, I’ll tell you more about where you are and what this is about.”

For those who ignored her, or those not newly arrived, they will receive a message through their earpiece:

“Girl. Hey. Listen. I’m kind of in a pinch, okay? I need like… a little favor. But its a fun favor! I need you to get your girl some info. I need the word on the street, honey. I need the tea piping hot- I need you to go talk to your friends, enemies, frenemies, butt buddies, cousins, and have them tell you about anyone they know. I need straight facts and good gossip on everyone here. And then get back to me. Kisses.

And this isn’t something for nothing. If you bring me some good goss, you’ll get some good info in turn about your whole situation. Cause that’s what you’re missing most besides home, right? Context.”

⏵ spill the tea ⏴

Tatianna having now tasked everyone (new and old) with finding out more about their fellow inhabitants—if not for their sake, for her curiosity—and in exchange she will give them valuable information that may aid them with acclimating here, or something far more valuable depending on how hot the goss is! However, she will not just hand out her secrets so easily, and so she will need one piece of gossip about each inhabitant. So she expects everyone to get mingling and talking, she isn't a charity here!

To assist in this, the companion bots have set up cozy little wicker daybeds around the main hub of the city. All of which are suspiciously cozy and warm once you have sat down on them, but especially so with the accompanying aroma of the tea wafting from the kettle which rests on the center table, accompanied by sweetmeats. The tea itself also stays warm despite the cool autumn air, and so long as you stay within the daybeds, the biting chill won't reach you either.

However, the tea is not only perpetually the right temperature, but it seems to have a way of loosening one's tongue. Especially the more one imbibes it. Did you mean to share that secret that might not have been yours to begin with? Or that personal detail about your best friend that wasn't meant to be known by anyone but who they themselves have told? Probably not, but the cat is out of the bag now, isn't it? Well, hopefully word won't get around...after all, it isn't likely who you are talking is going to tell everyone else, right? Right?

Adding to the oddity of it all, the tea one drinks might not be the same tea that their companion is drinking, despite it pouring from the same kettle. What might be one person's earl grey, is another's pumpkin spice chai. Whatever it may be that pours out, it certainly seems to be to one's liking, or its closest approximation. There's probably some deeper meaning in that, some sort of symbolism one might surmise from the nature of sharing gossip and it being tainted by personal bias, but who cares about navel gazing about such a thing?

After all, this is meant to be an enjoyable endeavor! Getting to know your fellow inhabitant should feel as comfortable as catching up with an old friend. What better way than to do it by sharing tea you both will enjoy? ☕

⏵ close knit ⏴

As the tail end of November draws nearer, people will have already begun to see the first flakes of snow. It grows colder, and while there isn't quite a blizzard or a snow storm happening, the snow does not seem to let up with its descent. It doesn't quite get so cold that it is untenable, of course, but it would be advisable to bundle up! In fact, the companion bots seem to be on the case with assisting in just that!

Around the city people will find groups of companion bots busily knitting sweaters, scarves, gloves, hats, and so forth. In fact, the moment they see someone they clock as not quite bundled enough, they will insist on supplying them with whatever they deem as being without. Are you already wearing a scarf? Well, clearly you need two of them! How about the gloves? Couldn't hurt to have several pairs!

However, that isn't all that's available to people, after all there are cafes out and about where one might get a hot beverage to help fight off the cold, but for those less inclined for such establishments, the companion bots are here to serve! There is at least one companion bot per knitting group that seems to have hot cocoa on hand. If they see someone who is looking particularly cold (almost everyone is, the companion bots aren't particularly keen on the signs of successful temperature regulation), they will have a paper cup of hot cocoa imposed upon them that has their name on the side.

Or, sort of. It is at least a close approximation of their name, or maybe it is an alternate spelling? Really, who can blame the bots for getting confused, there are so many of you!

⏵ snow more games ⏴

The snow is here to stay, but that doesn't mean that it has to be a bad thing! With everyone well supplied in their winter garb, the companion bots have set up spots for fun activities! Perhaps the inhabitants would enjoy a fun snowball fight, or some sledding? Some of the waters have frozen over, so ice skating is always a possibility too. Though one might want to be careful if they are to venture past what the companion bots have marked as safe.

Some of the companion bots are trying their best at making a snowman, but all their efforts seem to come out rather...square. They're trying their best, but maybe they can learn by following the inhabitant's examples. There are others that will offer gold star stickers to those who seem to dominate in the snowball fights, but unfortunately the stickers don't stick too well with all the snow. Well, they tried!

People will still find bots out and about with nice warm beverages available to fight off the cold, too. That service will continue to be available for the foreseeable future. Similarly, if someone comes out who is a little too under-dressed for the weather, the bots might have to pick up those knitting needles again, so be sure to put on your winter clothes..!

⏵ NOTES ⏴

To report information to Tatianna, do so here! She will only give each person their rewarded information once she has a bit of information on each character in the game. Each bit of gossip does not require a thread to count though it should be IC knowledge gained through IC means. Try to check what gossip has been given to her already, because doubling up will not yield results! Good luck!

For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ That gives him pause, cuts off the spiraling thoughts of the dead and his grief and all the ways he failed his sister. Caitlyn looks genuinely confused by the concept. Even before the fall, people prayed. Carver didn’t care much for God until he went to war. But after—

Yeah. ]

What’d you pray to?

No one.

[She shrugs.]

There's a wind spirit that some in the fissures pray to, but most people are more concerned with science than religion, where I'm from.

[ Ah, Carver thinks. He doesn’t laugh but he considers that, weighs it, and continues watching her. ]

God’s in blood and the bone on the ground, [ he replies softly. ] And for walking the killing fields. My God, anyway.

You sound Noxian.

[Death, as an entity, is quite real in Runeterra. The Lamb comes for those who accept a peaceful death, the Wolf comes for those who try to fight their fate. Most Noxians worship the Wolf; not a mindset Caitlyn can quite understand, given that she is neither a soldier nor a Noxian.]

Do I? I don't know that word.

[ He just shrugs. God is God, as inevitable as gravity. That faith gives the world a shape it otherwise lacks, but he's not inclined to try and convince anyone else of it. What would be the point? ]

Gotta believe in something.

Noxus doesn't exist in your world?

[She's never given thought to other worlds before arriving here. The very concept is new to her.

A world without Noxus must be a world without Piltover. Something so profoundly different to everything she's ever even imagined that she can't even begin to think what it might be, and it starts to settle in a little deeper, to become a little more real, that there's no going home.

Her jaw tenses for a moment before relaxing again, her mind tilting away from that, looking for anything else to latch on to.

Dead to bury. Gods found in the killing fields. Very Noxian.]

Are you a soldier?

No.

[ Is that a place? He doesn't recognize it. And from Caitlyn's reaction, it would be one that's well known. Then again, the concept of a multiverse has been explained to him and at this point, Carver just accepts certain aspects of it. The world's gone mad, or he has, but the mission still stands.

He shrugs again. ]

I was. You're not.

[ The unspoken question: what is she, if not a soldier? ]

I'm an enforcer, [she says, picking up on his unspoken question.

Technically, she was fired, but she's been pretending very hard for days that she hasn't been, and she's not going to stop now.]

[ His eyebrows lift. ]

You don't talk like the mob.

The mob?

[She frowns, absolutely baffled.]

I'm an enforcer. A police officer. I'm a detective.

[That last one is stretching the definition, given that she's never been assigned a single case in her entire, admittedly short, career. But she very much wants to be a detective.]

Not that my badge made the journey here with me.

[It doesn't matter much, she supposes. The Piltover Enforcer Department hardly has jurisdiction here. But the badge did confer some sense of... of pride. It's something she earned for herself, something she'd wanted for years. Something to live up to.]

Huh.

[ Apparently that term means a different thing where she's from. Carver considers her in a new light. She's young to be a detective, but he's seen MPs around her age, all bright eyed and righteous. Convinced they were going to be fighting the good fight.

Carver tilts his head. ]

How long you had it? The badge.

[The question has her bristling defensively. She'd enrolled to become an enforcer as soon as she'd finished her schooling, but it had, of course, taken time to go through training. So all told...]

A few months.

[Maybe less.]

Edited (as;dfkj i have no idea i'm just making up time frames) 2024-12-13 02:41 (UTC)

[ Okay. So, she's green-green. Carver just gives her the same look he gave so many of his own students when they were blustering and trying to look older or bigger than they were. Calm, but unmoved. ]

And you made detective that quick, huh? And here I was thinking that took years.

[Caitlyn bristles even more defensively, an oh-so-very serious frown settling on her face.]

I'm very skilled.

[That's not a lie, she is truly that confident in her skills. And she has been doing detective work.

By borrowing case files.

Some of which haven't even been missed yet.]

Mhmm-hmm.

[ He considers her in a new light. Thing is, this mission - such as it is - feels more like the work Pope had them doing before the world ended than after. A lot of details are still unclear and likely to stay that way. The stated objective isn't the whole story and Carver has a feeling he's going to lose if he tries to turn this thing into a shooting gallery. And no one, no one at all, survives alone. You need allies. ]

Okay. Tell me something true about myself, detective.

Detective work isn't a party trick, [she snits.] It takes time, and effort, and-- and work.

[Still, with a soft, tetchy little huff, she glances over him.]

You're a former soldier. An officer, perhaps, or someone who trained others, based on your eagerness to offer 'advice.' [The quote marks around 'advice' are audible.] Whatever you do now is almost certainly less formal. That's not a uniform you're wearing, and it's been repaired by hand. Multiple times, by the look of it. Perhaps you haven't got the resources to replace it, or you're fond of it. The fact that you haven't changed out of it, despite the opportunity you have here, may suggest the latter. That necklace of yours--

[She nods towards the pendant around his neck.]

It looks handmade, too. You haven't got any other jewelry on, and you don't seem the type to wear jewelry as a fashion accessory, so it likely means something to you beyond mere decoration.

[She glances down at the teacup sat in front of him.]

And you haven't touched your tea or had anything to eat despite implying that you've experienced such severe scarcity and hunger that people in your world will beat each other to death for food and drink.

[Why, she's not sure. She could start spinning theories – he's ill, he fears it's poisoned, he's been here long enough to acclimate to plentiful food – but those would only be speculation.]

This is work, too, [ he replies softly. And then he doesn’t say anything for a while, just listens, taking in the words that she uses and her intonation, every piece of it that clicks together with the rest. The conclusions she admits to drawing and how she frames them, the pieces she picks and in what order and what tone and the reasons he imagines might hide behind the why.

It’s through. She has an eye for detail.

When she’s done speaking, Carver gives her a thin smile. Pleased, despite the absurdity of it all. She’s not one of his students. She isn’t one of his at all. By right, he ought to treat her like the enemy she’ll inevitably become. ]

You got an eye for detail. And you’re more right than you’re not. That’s good.

Yes, I told you, [she says, insistent, frowning.] I'm very good at my job.

[But at least he, unlike her parents or Marcus or Jayce, acknowledges it. And a tiny little spark of pride flares in her chest.]

Back home, you probably are.

[ He inclines his head slightly. ]

Wanna know what you missed?

Yes.

[She lets her eyes run over him again.]

Is it another knife you've got hidden away somewhere?

[It's mostly a joke. Mostly, but not entirely. He may very well have another knife hidden away, and she would like very much not to be on the wrong end of it.]

[ He gives her a thin smile. He has several knives tucked away, and a garrote sewn into the seam of his jacket. But those are details. Those might just save him one of these days. ]

I wasn't an officer. But this is a uniform.

[ He flicks the edges of his pendant ever so briefly. This is a symbol, too. ]

You can call me Carver.

[She glances down at the necklace, then back up at his face. Is that the symbol of the army he fights for? If so, why is it handmade? Has his world lost the art of professional blacksmithing?]

It doesn't look like a uniform. How is anyone meant to distinguish your allegiance? Unless your army's colours are various shades of off-black.

Maybe we hunted in the dark, [ he replies softly. This is one of the reasons. The second is that shades of black are easy to scavenge, easier to clean the blood and guts out of than anything else they might find. ] Or maybe there's no industry left to make anything custom.

[There's something ominous about the way he phrases that, 'hunted in the dark,' something that causes her stomach to tighten and her next breath to be a little more shallow.

Caitlyn has partaken in game hunting. But she suspects that Carver's not referring to deer and pheasants.]

Armies don't hunt. They fight.

[She glances down at the necklace again.]

Is that your army's sigil?

Armies hunt all the time, [ he replies softly. For food, for supplies, for the enemy. Sun Tzu had a point about the limitations of scavenging, but that doesn't mean it never happens. Pope sent them out hunting all the time, night after night, endlessly. There were always new targets. ] You've never been to war.

[ A guess. But one he'd put money on. She's probably been in some scraps but not a full scale conflict - not yet. ]

Your people have dog tags?

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