asgardmeridiem | EVENT LOG: NATURE & NURTURE

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EVENT LOG: NATURE & NURTURE

Who: EVERYONE opting out of the Gentlemen plot
What: Nature & Nurture hippie mingle log!
When: Days 345-349 ( Oct. 22-31 )
Where: an unnamed encampment outside the city of Asgard
Rating: PG-13. Pay mind that there will be mentions of magical psuedo-drug use in this log. Anything above that should be taken to a private log, please!

[ By early morning of Day 345 ( Oct. 22 ), Honir will have laid a clear and simple trail of breadcrumbs that take the form of a soft dusk-coloured light whenever you look directly upon it. Those clued into its purpose and curious minds alike are welcome to follow the path, but it will have vanished by evening of the same day, so be quick about it!

The path will lead straight through the Gate of Fire. There is a heavy line of guards here as always, and they will stop everyone that tries to pass for a simple bag check and question of intent. Following a glowing trail of light might seem like a ridiculous answer, but the guards know their ridiculous gods and will send the Travellers along with a word of warning not to head too far north, lest they accidentally stumble upon enemy land. As though acting as proof of the threat, immediately past the gate is a massive expanse of space discordant to the rest of the forestry that surrounds the city: the site of Freyr's explosion. The blast radius has since filled with various plant life now wilting with the seasons, but it is still an obvious mark of the past battle and the lingering threat. Best not to take it lightly.

Continuing northwest, the trail will take them across the river where several crude bridges were laid by the Fire Giants to reach the city. They're still intact but are nothing fancy, so be careful and move quickly. It will take about half a day to move beyond this point, making it a good place to stop and rest, as the encampment is still a ways off. The line of trees is somewhat thinner here, closer to sparsely interrupted plains of grass, but it is a quiet night beneath the faint cloud coverage.

Before dawn on Day 346 ( Oct. 24 ), a loud crack of what sounds like single stroke of thunder may wake the Travellers that are further ahead on the dimly lit path. A red streak across the sky can be seen in the direction of Muspellheim, and though these Travellers will not feel the earthquake that rattles the Holy City, those that looked close enough during that cracking sound might've seen seven small specks of light falling from the hole in the sky like shooting stars barrelling downwards. The path will become insistent, then, urging the Travellers forward to their destination with a stronger glow and a faint sense of compulsion. Clouds are rolling in and it's set to be a cold day; with luck, there will be warmth wherever the path leads.

By the time they come across the camp later the same day, they'll have come upon thick forests again with tall trees bearing fruit of all shapes and sizes. Several dozen villagers of human and elvish descent will greet them happily with welcoming smiles and offered hugs. They will provide tent space, extra blankets, and baskets to forage for food with them. Hunters can bring back game if they please, but wastefulness will not be tolerated and every piece of their catch will be put to some use. Those that gather amongst the trees might experience the fleeting sprites of the trees that are the Loljesker. They can never be seen, but they are undoubtedly there, flitting across the treetops and dropping hard-reached food to the peoples below.

The evening of Day 346, the campers will hold a modest feast for their guests, bringing out their finer meats and fruits and vegetables to honour the Travellers and their cause. They'll offer ceremonial tea, but any questions as to what it is will be met with "a blessing from the spirits of the Mother" and other such vague hippie answers. This tea is a mild hallucinogen that will have no harmful effect on the body. Ten minutes after drinking the tea, Travellers will notice a glowing spectre nearby in the shape of an animal; think spirit animal or daemon, anything that represents your character's true nature. These daemons will follow their owners around for the duration of the trip, behaving like their respective Traveller at their purest form. For example, someone that is a cookie enthusiast but restrains themselves from eating all of the cookies might have a daemon that devours all the cookies. Released inhibitions! These daemons are creatures of light and cannot be touched by anything but each other, and only the Travellers that drink the tea can see them. Drinking the tea is completely optional.

On the evening of Day 348 ( Oct. 29 ), as rainfall turns to thundering, a loud tittering will be heard coming from all across the treetops. The Loljesker heard the cries of the Travellers in Asgard, even from this great distance, and will start to urge the visiting Travellers back to their city. The natives will heed their warning as gospel and start packing the Travellers up, ushering them on the path back home. Anyone that resists will have the sprites throwing rotten fruit at them or dropping branches on their heads; this is a kindness by all means, and you do not want to see what happens when they get mean.

Honir's trail will be gone by now, but the daemons will stay with their Travellers to guide the path through the storm. It will be harder to navigate in the darkness and the rain, but the natives will have given them food, clean water, and let them keep their blankets to forge some kind of warmth. The storming will end by the next day, though the rain will keep falling, and as the Travellers cross back over the river with the Gate of Fire in sight, the daemons will dissipate into the rain like scattered beads of light. Welcome back to the city, friends. We hope you had a lovely trip. ]

[ OOC NOTES: This is the mingle log for October's opt-out event, Nature & Nurture. There is a world map here for reference of where the Travellers are going; they'll be in that last clutter of trees in the direction of Mirror Lake. Please put [OPEN/CLOSED] in the title of your comment along with the date/location. Let us know if you have any questions or concerns! ]

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Eight leaves his extra blanket from the villagers with Charley and drops back to walk next to Brax for a bit, blue eyes somber under his wet curls. With a small sigh, he shoves his hands in his pockets and shakes his head.

"You know, I'm starting to think I'm something of a jinx for this city," he says, staring into the grey gloom of the storm, "The more of me that shows up, the worse things seem to get."

Because, of course, he wouldn't be the Doctor without a bit of self-centered thinking that everything is his fault.

Irving gives him a look, allowing them to walk along a bit before he answers.

"You know you're not actually in the city at the moment?" he says with some incredulity. "You're very talented as a catalyst, Doctor, but I think you're asking rather much of yourself to cause problems a day away from your location."

He starts to answer seriously. "Besides. Wars get worse. That's generally what they do until they're stopped."

"Yes, yes, I know." He takes the retort without a comeback, because really, he's simply being sour.

"I just wish it wasn't all going in Thiazi's favor. We seem to keep losing ground day by day."

"Then we should do something about that, not focus on forces beyond our control. We'll get the measure of what has happened at base, beef up whatever needs beefing up. Secure the city."

"We should, of course."

He peers out at the horizon, as if he's trying to figure out what's gone wrong just by staring at it.

"You know, it's good you're here. I'm good in a crisis and can handle chaos with the best of them, but this situation is better suited to your more...orderly way of going about things."

"I prefer to avoid wars altogether," he reminds him. "Perfectly able to prepare the field, clean up after it, even, the actual fighting? I have no fervour for it."

"And you think I do? Yet the fighting keeps getting dropped in my lap, and I end up with a so-called 'choice' that's taken out of my hands."

Again, his tone is sour and more aimed at something else, rather than his brother. The tone might have been a bit less bitter had he not learned about his future. And as much as he always tells people that there's always a choice, somehow his choices always end up being "do it or stand back and watch people die". Which, really, is no choice at all for him.

"Besides, now that you're here, you've been conscripted. None of us have much of a choice."

Irving knows well the feeling that comes with having foreknowledge of one's personal future. There's really know point to responding to his bitter little rant, he's entitled to be bitter for a start and there's nothing he could say.

"I have a choice, in how I approach it," he replies, neutrally.

"And how are you going to approach it?" he asks with a frown, holding back another bitter comment. Even he isn't quite sure why he's directing his anger at Brax. Perhaps it's because he's family. Who knows.

He sighs. "Why? So you can jump down my throat about it?" he asks finally. "You know my methods. And I know you don't like them."

He frowns. "Doctor, I realise it's distressing that we don't know why we're being ushered back and you've had a rough time of it lately. And it's not fair either way. But being defensive with me is hardly going to improve either situation, now is it?"

"Try me," he shrugs. The Doctor's been treated like a monster in Asgard already for a suggestion he made, so maybe he's changed. He isn't quite sure.

"Consider it a compliment, maybe. With everyone else, I feel like I have to hide this side of me from them. However, you're family, and I feel comfortable enough not to protect you."

He raises an eyebrow at this being a compliment but shrugs as well. "At this point, it's nascent. Little more than a specific goal. But if we can get this to a conclusion without mutually assured destruction, perhaps it'll be worth it. Of course, it won't be a simple matter getting people to a table, when there seems so much at stake, so much damage done, and little sign of either side relenting. And of course, pride, one should never discount pride when considering gods into the picture."

He shrugs once more. "Of course, to do that I need to know all about what I'm dealing with."

"Well, one thing you should know is that we're dealing with a war that's more like something out of a Tolkien novel than any real war, and some of the gods didn't want us here, so they are not at all helpful. They will treat you like an idiot who is too incompetent to do anything. I may be strangely fond of the grumpy old fellow, but Odin is the worst of the lot.

You're lucky, however. You've found yourself in Freyr's house. He's a kind fellow, and will actually be helpful when you ask him questions. Sigyn is helpful as well, but she's around far less than Freyr, I'm afraid."

He runs a hand over his face and then rubs his fingertips over the bridge of his nose. "There will be no compromises here, I'm afraid. It's about the worst kind of war, where the soldiers' hands are tied, but they have no option to walk away from the battlefield, and their generals are less than helpful. And there is no hope of any sort of peace treaty."

It's like fighting Daleks while deaf and blind. And it's exceptionally frustrating.

"Then they won't expect much," he replies with a shrug. He wasn't one of the Time Lord who insisted on being acknowledged as clever, he just was.

"Then redirecting is the best we can do," he muses. "Change what the war's about. Harder when they won't talk to you, of course, but not impossible, even then."

"No, they won't, but it also means they are not very helpful when we want to get something done. You know, despite the fact that helping them is what we're here for." He's still a bit irritated that, when he and Eleven wanted to plan a trip to try to talk Freya out of lashing out in her grief again, Odin's only way of helping was to tell them not to cry to him if they died.

Gods are so ridiculous.

"Hm, well so far most of the war has been about us reacting to everything that comes our way, and trying to return color to the city. Taking the battle to Thiazi is possible, but it would be difficult. Very difficult. The climate in Thrymheim is not very conducive to doing much of anything, and the place is guarded exceptionally well. We'd need an army to get through, and yet an army would be too noticeable. Last time they tried, they brought an army of ice giants back to Asgard with them."

"Well, we'll just have to adjust our mode of asking," he replies. "Make it seem like their idea, that sort of thing.

"The cold, you mean?"

That suggestion makes him chuckle. "And this is why you're far better at politics than I am."

"Unnaturally cold, yes. It doesn't stop us completely, but it would make it more difficult, and definitely more difficult to get in quietly."

"The joys of me," he remarks in response.

"Well, if there's one law in our universe, it's that if something exists, there's some way around it," he considers. "And somehow I doubt ...magic is any different."

"Well, we all have our strengths, Brax."

He makes a face at the word "magic". Yes, he's still having trouble with that word. Even if he's already found Thiazi's magic controlling him, he still can't bring himself to believe in the stuff.

"I'm sure we'll find a way around it, but it's a bit difficult when we don't have all the information."

Unfortunately, that is the lexicon required, even though he disapproves of it as much as the Doctor is.

"Agreed," he says, thoughtfully.

"I don't understand it," he mutters, "I work in the Library. I've been over all the books about this world, including the books in the inner room that was just opened about the time I arrived in Asgard. You can tell there's holes in the information given. What are they hiding, and why are they hiding it from the people who are trying to help them?"

"Well, we've hidden a few things in our time," he says, though if he meant Time Lords by that or just the two of them is unclear. "Sometimes for morale's sake, sometimes out of shame. Lack of trust is another reason."

He lifts his eyebrows: any of those reasons seem likely?

"I have a feeling it's the latter, he replies with a frown, "Or out of a ridiculous need to feel mysterious." He should know. His previous self was much the same. As is apparently his most recent incarnation, who even keeps secrets from his other incarnations. Yes, Eight is still bitter about that.

"That is the rather frustrating thing. They brought us here, but they don't actually trust us to do what they brought us here to accomplish."

Irving files it as 'lack of trust' then, chalking up 'need to feel mysterious' to the Doctor's natural frustration. He's been accused of the same and 'feeling mysterious' never feels very good unless you're talking about presents or frivolous things.

"Despite linking their souls with us," he adds.

"Exactly!" he replies, throwing his hands up, "They don't trust us, yet they've tied themselves to us. What kind of logic leads them to hang so much on our success and then not trust us with all the information?"

He drops his hands to rub at his face with a shake of his head, "And I thought the High Council was bad."

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becauseichooseto - 2013-11-14 15:04 (UTC) - Expand

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