etrayalogs | APRIL MINGLE.

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APRIL MINGLE.

❬ ARRIVAL ❭

Welcome to Etraya!

Arrival goes as expected- characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital.

In the hospital's lobby are several tables with baked goods and treats: strawberry rhubarb muffins, lemon-blueberry muffins, strawberry shortbread cookies, and so on. To drink there is Earl Grey tea, milk, or coffee.

Outside of the hospital the previous decorations from festivities are gone, and all seems relatively normal for those familiar. For those new, this area acts a little as a central hub, with the apartments not far away and the trolley with its two lines similarly nearby. With spring in the air, the temperatures are mild, but warm, and flowers are blooming all around.

The bots will suggest that the newcomers should take the trolley to Bramble Valley, where there are even more awe-inspiring flowers in bloom along the grassy lowlands, but flowers won't be the only thing blooming.

Once they have arrived, further instructions will be given.

❬ FLOWERS WITH A FEELING ❭

While the newcomers are directed in person by the bots to come to Bramble Valley, current residents of Etraya will receive a message urging them to come to a specific location not far from the trolley stop in the area.

The lowlands are covered in various blooms of all types, a veritable kaleidoscope of petals surrounding picnic baskets resting upon blankets in the heart of it all. A single bot awaits within this clearing to give instructions for those arriving for this mini-mission.

While the flowers are plentiful and of vibrant colors, there is a particular type of blossom that everyone is tasked with finding: a type of solitary poppy with petals as clear as glass, which stains with color once touched by a person, forever changed by this connection. This color means something about them, it symbolizes a truth—a deep feeling within them. One might stain red for the love that drives them, but just as likely this could be one's hatred, or anger. How this color represents or defines them is unique to them, but whether or not they understand what it means is another matter.

This flower will serve as the centerpiece of the flower bracelets everyone is expected to make, but the task is only complete when one has likewise spoken to another over what they think their respective colors might mean. This is, fortunately, made all the simpler with the flowers having a somewhat calming effect, making conversation a bit easier for those who might find it difficult otherwise.

Once the task is completed participants will earn 5 points.

❬ PICNIC PALS ❭

Of course all that foraging for elusive flowers will work up an appetite, and what better way to talk about one's feelings and satiate that hunger in one fell swoop than to have a picnic? There are plenty of picnic spots set up to accommodate all the Etrayans, and while one might have their idea of what a picnic basket should have inside of it, not every picnic basket is exactly... predictable.

Some will have sandwiches like ham and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, roast beef—very standard affair. There are others a little unorthodox, pizza in particular filling one basket to the brim, another with steaming bowls of ukha. However, there are those which stray further yet: vials of blood, raw organ meat, solar light, brains, even small crystallized yet alive (and violent) creatures.

While this non-exhaustive list might seem random to some, it isn't quite to others. Maybe someone will want to trade baskets?

❬ MINGLE NOTES ❭

📌 — Welcome to Etraya and happy spring!

📌 — The 5 points are towards the monthly maximum of 25, characters only need to do this once to earn them.

📌 — The flowers themselves do not radiate any detectable magical properties, even the calming effects are something more natural to the flower, even to those of supernatural ability can still be affected by it once they touch the flower.

📌 — A slightly unrelated note, but as it has roughly been a year since their introduction, those who have taken towards training or raising chocobo will find their efforts rewarded! All chocobo colors will be available from any domesticated chocobo hatchlings, except for gold. Rarer ones like black, white, and silver should be rnged for (5% chance) and only come from cross color pairings. The red chocobos won't be able to cause the same destruction as Red Comet (the red chocobo that is currently running free around Etraya), but they have a high chance to have a similarly fiery temperament!

📌 — For all questions relating to this mingle, please refer to the mingle queries comment on this post. Other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

🔵FULL NAVIGATION🔵

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[they shift off their knees to sit properly across from him, holding the two-tone flower out while their other hand goes over their heart.]

I'm called Tristan. Thank you for your time. I'll...do my best to make good use of it. Bachelor...Daniil Dankovsky. [it's a lot of syllables, but after that first bit, it does flow better off the tongue.]

Tristan. Do you have a title or a family name? [Sounds like a man’s name.]

[This is not how a daisy chain would ever be made. But he passes the needle delicately through the flowers. ]

Here, now you try. If you can …Have you lost any dexterity in your hands from that injury?

I don't remember. [they tilt their palm up to accept what Daniil started, gingerly picking the needle between finger and thumb.] Ah, that's... [their eyes crinkle, their smile a sheepish shade.] ...the answer to both questions. I don't remember what I was like before, or...where I came from. But I think I can manage this much.

[they're true to their word (sleight of hand 16 (14+2), gingerly piercing the point through the middles of the given flowers.]

Though...given how delicate these flowers are, I have to assume that...having these chains last is not the intention here. I wonder what is. Simple obedience, perhaps?

[appraisingly] Not too bad. [Though it was simple work. Not like trying to correct a freshman student’s work stitching on a human’s wound. This was relaxing in comparison.]

I assume this is the purpose. This connection. Or obedience, though following these directions is quite simple.

[Daniil peers at Tristan with a small frown. Of course. The visible part of the injury might be their hands, but a serious head injury…]

Have you seen a doctor for your injuries?

[Tristan turns one wrinkled hand over to expose the back, where much of the scarification is easier to see. the markings look more intentional - attempts at writing in some ways, where one seems to be the etching of some kind of winged insect. they consider it with a mild, thoughtful expression.]

The clerics in that Traint village tended me...they were the ones who, when I was brought from the battlefield, got me on my feet and helped me get a sense of...everything, really. Save for language, I was truly a know-nothing dropped in on them. [they breathe a laugh in their breath.] But they could not make the marks go away. They said it was proof of my reclamation from the sickness I'd had.

[On second look, it does indeed look properly intentional. He takes Tristan’s hand into his own gloved one, stilling it to get a better look.]

I’ve seen savages cut and etch skin to commune with their gods for such things. You had an illness that destroyed your memory…? [muttering] A meningitis, perhaps?

Can you describe the sickness to me?

[Tristan stills, taken aback by how casually their hand was taken. it's an echo of Caleb's interest, though even he had sense to ask before reaching. it's still novel, being touched on a whim, especially by the hand; they know how ugly they look.

the pause is a bit longer than need be, but Tristan blinks out of the soft-eyed daze and lifts their attention back to Daniil's face.]

It's called penumbral disease. An erosion of mind, body, and soul. The afflicted become what are known as silhouettes - living shadows, devoid of their own wills, moving in the dark to harm those unlike them.

[Daniil had done much more than taking a hand to look. He’s conducted medical exams on multiple a stages before. He does let the other’s hand go so that they can resume their sewing.]

I see… [He had encountered people driven mad by the pain or mental deterioration associated with the illness.]

[Like rabies, perhaps.]

Do you still require treatment for this illness? Is it treatable?

I'm no longer subject to it. [they let their hand linger a bit, considering the change in temperature with it left alone. a hesitation, then they see back to their task.]

I can cure it. Somehow. [their mouth twitches at one corner.] I...don't know how I know to, but...it must be some consequence of having been subject to it and...surviving to be what I am now. I reach for the one afflicted, hoping with all my heart that I can help them. And...something in me...moves to do just that.

A peculiar matter of will and magic, I suppose. Such mysteries abound. [they tilt their head a little as they smile over at him.] Would you call that good fortune?

… I’ve seen strange things in the past few weeks. I would say that there is no such thing as magic, but there are things beyond our understanding.

I would not call contracting a disease good fortune, but coming by the cure is excellent fortune.

[He eyes Tristan’s flower.]

What do those colors mean to you?

[their eyes crinkle, nodding to concede the point. there's quite a lot out of comprehensible grasp, that's for damn sure. they are also one of those incomprehensible things.

at the question, they exhale a gentle, thoughtful sound, turning the threaded piece in hand, trying to be careful as to not dislodge any petals.]

I suppose... It is a matter of what I've become. [they graze their fingertip against one of the black petals, causing it to start to glow faintly.]

Some...strange little light from the dark.

Like a candle in a dark hallway? A guiding light?

[Or something about to be snuffed out?]

[Its not that he seems fragile, however.]

Would you like me to tie it around your wrist?

[their mouth twitches, a bit of color blooming on their face.]

A guiding light might...know where to go, yes? I've yet to manage that. So...perhaps simply a torch to...be carried along the way. [though that doesn't feel great, either; it just plays into the hand of the fate their name is pulling them along.

a slight pause, then they hold out their wrist for him.] It does...feel worthwhile to be of use to others in that way, at least. Perhaps it will be for the best.

But a torch isn’t merely dragged along. It’s impossible to safely traverse where one cannot see. A guiding light does not need to know, it simply is. There is no need to ask of it what the carrier hardly knows.

[I’ve said something to cause them discomfort. Or perhaps the discomfort was there already. They said they had amnesia. I can’t imagine others have been very patient. Especially in certain lines of work.]

Yes. Each of us has our uses. … and our roles to play. You said you heal? What sort of healer are you?

Simply is... [it's murmured quietly to themself, testing the way it feels in their own mouth. is it too passive? or is it...still enough to justify being as they are.

the new inquiry keeps them from floating off into their own thoughts; they blink back into focus.]

What...sort? [blinkblink.] Ah, I...You mean, do I make tinctures or sew wounds? [they shake their head.] No, it--it's a magic I've learned to use to help others. Mostly within combat, or when faced with someone afflicted by penumbral.

[Daniil draws his thick brows together. Magic again. Though something about a pointy eared fellow makes it feel possible, maybe?]

Is it possible to show it to me?

It is.

[a beat.

frown.]

You're...not currently injured, are you? If you've been enduring pain this entire time without saying so--

My pain won’t be visible, so you might not be able to help it.

[The beta blockers have stopped my shaking for now. Between that and the anti-nausea medicine… ]

[The come down is still painful. I wouldn’t be outside if I had any choice.]

But I must admit, the idea of magical healing conjures a rather lofty idea.

Edited 2026-04-27 00:29 (UTC)

[their mouth presses into a thin line as they think on that.]

Penumbral disease affects the body entire, but it is a rather unique condition. I've been learning to remove curses as well, if maladies can be categorized as such.

If you wish for me to try, I will gladly do so; there is no harm for me.

I certainly feel as if I’ve been cursed. But no, this is merely the curse of substances working their way out of my system.

But it’s much too convenient for magic to simply not work and chalk it up to me being sick the wrong way.

[Another miracle worker?]

… But if it can’t harm you, I would like to see it at least.

[they smile ruefully, feeling strangely as though they've already overstepped...or overpromised. but they truly don't know the limits of their abilities; so often it's been down to I want to help all I can manifesting in ways they don't restrict by their own imagination.

but it's never really hurt before; the worst that's happened is a kind of...ominous sense of finality within themself. but that didn't pass on to anyone else, so it's fine.

Tristan holds his hands out palm-up.]

May I touch you, then?

But of course. Even I have to touch patients to heal them. Tell me what I need to do.

[Tristan here is at least a gentler, humbler thing than Clara. But can they heal the imbalances in my mind?]

[they nod, tabling the question of patients for after this. Tristan gingerly takes Daniil's hand in both of his, squeezing once before relaxing their hold. eyes closed, they think on that rather...umbrella of a notion that's guided them in the past:

Whatever is doing him harm... If it's within my means, I want to cast it away.

their veins, which always dimly glow, brighten enough to be visibly radiant for two or three heartbeats - time wherein...something passes from them to him. and after those heartbeats, the light wanes and Tristan exhales, slowly opening their eyes and scanning him for response.]

[He watches Tristan’s veins glow. Now that’s fascinating. Was he hallucinating? Hallucinating something he’d never conceived before? And then before he’s sure he’s seen it, it’s gone.]

You’re glowing—

[And then the headache that’s been pulsing all day begins to properly wane…. And then it comes back powerfully with a stronger wave of nausea.]

[Daniil takes strychnine, rat poison, to help him function after morphine. The world swims, he goes pale, and he collapses.]

Bachel-- [the rest of the words don't matter, as all their energy goes into sitting up forward to catch the sagging form, hastening to cradle his head. it's not like keeling over from a sitting position is a real risk, but reflex won the day there. it helps him lay him back carefully so they can lean over him, eyes unblinking as they frantically scan for the error in their effort, ears straining for breath and heartbeat. they can work from there.]

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Cw: old timey racism :(

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Tw: drugs and addiction

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