hugtopia_logs | ♥ April (Lasai) Event Log

♥ April (Lasai) Event Log

a red cardinal perching on a thin branch with pink flowers

April (Lasai) Event Log
This Lasai marks one year since the outer walls moved, expanding Havenwell for the first time in centuries. The natives are commemorating this event in their own ways, watching the walls for any further changes just in case. With the turning warmer and spring sweeping through the city, it's natural for them and the offworlders to expect something new and exciting to happen. This year, however, it seems they should have been watching for something other than the walls...

❥ PROMPT I: Life Has Many Doors

an open door in a wall, with painted arrows and a lighted arrow-shaped sign all pointing to it

Whether closed, open, or slightly cracked ajar, mysterious doorways have begun to appear all across Havenwell. They could be in the entryway to your closet, in the middle of the street, or perhaps directly in your path for you to stumble unwittingly into, and they seem to have absolutely no compunction about appearing wherever and at whatever time.

If one crosses the threshold through the door whether through intent or by accident, they will find themselves in another place, at another time...

Beyond the doors lie moments in time--past incidents a character may regret, wish they could change, or an instance where they were completely happy. Or, even potential futures they worry may or may not come to pass. In order to leave and return to the present in Havenwell, one need only join hands with another and speak about their feelings; why they regret doing or not doing something, what they fear or anticipate about their future, or any such truth that might indicate why the specific moment is being shown to them beyond the doorway. To facilitate this, doorways may either link up to that of another Havenwell offworlder's, or lead into a sort of featureless limbo until the same door is used by another.

❥ PROMPT II: Hatoful Bombardment

With everyone preoccupied with the mysterious doors appearing and whisking people away, the shimmering of the barrier might go unnoticed. The color has been so strong lately that people might think it's oily sheen over the blue sky is even normal by now. Then, one day, that sheen is suddenly dotted with tiny ripples, like raindrops hitting water. Not many people may notice this phenomenon right away, but when hundreds upon hundreds of birds suddenly burst through these ripples? They definitely take notice. Flocks of birds swarm en masse through the barrier all at once and then the ripples harden and disappear. They seem confused and scatter throughout the city, bringing with it all sorts of trouble.

These birds are all different species, sizes, and colors - from recognizable ones like the rainbow chickens to strange ones with inky black feathers and bright iridescent eyes. They appear to be completely wild, completely natural birds, however, and act as birds do: fighting for territory, nesting, eating - and boy do they fight, nest, and eat! Offworlders and natives alike will have to deal with the nuisance of these birds chittering, chattering, and screaming at all hours of the day as they try to nest in the city, in the trees, and in the eaves and roofs of people's houses and businesses. They fight with the temple animals - especially Diacht's crows and Rawna's dragonlings - and hunt Ainea's mice. They hassle people's gardens and the botanical gardens looking for food, and make messes trying to eat the leftover replicator goo and any bits of food or chocolate still hanging around.

People are free to try and catch, kill, or eat these birds if they can, but their meat is usually tough and gamey, and soon the zoo and conservationists are overrun with specimens and refuse to take more. By the end of the month, as the event comes to a close, most of the birds that are still free will suddenly begin swarming back towards the barrier and...disappear back through it? ...huh.

❥ PROMPT III: A Feather A Day

an arrangement of small feathers in bright rainbow colors

One by-product of all these birds in town is an overabundance of feathers. Long, short, stubby, colorful, black, grey, white, spotted, striped, iridescent - there's so many different types that the natives are going absolutely gaga for them all! This is the first time in a long time that they've had so many natural materials to create things from that the costumers, tailors, artists and other creatives in town are clamouring for more, more, more! The feathers begin to make appearances as decorations for headpieces, capes, sashes, bags, digital pens, epaulettes, bracelets, necklaces, artwork - you name it and it has feathers in it! Some enterprising natives even try incorporating it into food before they realize that they're inedible. With this massive demand comes a big business opportunity for people willing to go out and gather up the feathers, clean them of any gunk, sort them, and bring them to the natives. So long as the feathers are in good, useable condition, native artisans will pay a nice sum of Dora for bags of them and will actively ask characters to sell feathers to them.

However, it seems some feathers carry more than just a Dora price tag. Being in proximity or possession of feathers can sometimes have...unexpected effects on the offworlders.

Fluff for You, Fluff for Me: Your character will randomly and optionally painlessly sprout feathers. They can sprout from anywhere on your character's body, and can be in addition to or replace parts of them. For example, you can have feathers sprout from your hair, or have your hair turn into feathers. You can have feathers pop out of your wrists or have your fingers turn into wingtips. Pulling the feathers out does sting a little, but new feathers will simply grow back in their place and even runs the risk of having more feathers grow in new places. The only way to rid yourself of these is to wait the effect out after dumping your gathered feathers, or physical contact with another person.
Light as a Bird: After gathering up your feathers, your character will begin to feel lighter and lighter until they begin to lift off the ground entirely! Characters who can fly may have no problem with this, but others might find it quite disturbing when they suddenly float off the ground. No matter how hard you try, or how much control you usually have over your flight, it seems that you cannot return to the ground until you either wait for the effect to end after you get rid of your gathered feathers or grab and hold onto another offworlder for a few minutes. The highest you seem to float is up to two stories in the air, and as the effect wanes you gradually get heavier and heavier until you sink back to the earth. When up in the air, characters usually, but not always, tend to bob around like a balloon as if they're stuck in a zero gravity environment.
I Gotta Tweet About This: After incurring this effect, a character's speech will gradually and randomly turn into birdsong, chirping, twittering, and tweets. It can be every word, every other word, just certain words, or any combination you like, but when your character speaks, what comes out of their mouth will be the call of a bird and not their normal voice. Characters are free to try and interpret their friends' songs to find meaning, and characters can have their bird song be from one bird or multiple if they wish. The tweeting will continue so long as you are in possession of the feathers, or until you are able to get some sustained physical contact.

These effects can happen at any time when the feathers are close to your character, and you can even stack them if you like! They will linger even after a character dumps the feathers for a few hours, but for no longer than 24 hours at a time after getting rid of your feathers, whether it's by selling, gifting, dumping, burning or other methods. If characters pick up new feathers after getting rid of their old ones, it's possible for the effects to continue or for new effects to happen. The type of feather your character picks up has no bearing on what effect they incur.

This event will run from April 15 to April 30th. Click on each prompt's title to see the text. If you have any questions, feel free to direct them to the FAQ or to the Mod Question thread. You can also use the Havenwell Status page or the General Plotting Comment to give you other ideas for original prompts!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She's seen the throne room once before, months ago in a vision of the future-- his future. She hadn't expected to see it once more.

Pyra approaches quietly, announcing her presence with a soft call of his name. ]

...Noct.

[ There's affection in her voice, respect as she come nearer. He'll feel her hand upon his shoulder as he's seated. ]

[It's the tone of her voice that helps him turn towards her- not grief or sorrow or pity, but something softer and more reverent. She's one of the few who knows what's going to happen here, but she's allowing it to be what it is, not what it's going to be. He's glad for it, truth be told. His home should never be seen as something terrible, even if he's had mixed feelings about this room since childhood.

He lifts his hand to curl it around hers at his shoulder, lips drawn into a thin line.]

Pyra... here we are again, huh? Together in this place.

[It's quiet this time, eerily so. Empty, save for their own voices. He feels anxious, anticipating something wretched to present itself, and a part of him wishes it would just get on with it, so he wouldn't have to deal with this dread.]

[ And what a place to be. From the obsidian marble to the accents of gold, this throne room is grander than any she’s seen, a clear display of wealth and dominion, engineering and art, all four aspects conveying the industry and beauty of the kingdom. Anyone would feel quite small standing before the throne. No one would guess it is also meant to be a tomb.

...But surely that’s not all it is. Surely there were many great and incredible things that have happened in this very room, ceremonies and unions and matters of state. She’s only guessing, but a throne room is always as nuanced as those that attend to it.

Pyra takes her seat beside him. ] It’s...

[ Even her quite voice carries in the empty hall, and she lets the last of the echo settle before she speaks up again, her tone softer. Taking his hand in hers, her gaze lowers from the throne itself to follow the stairs down. ]

...Is it... too early to be here?

[ Ten years, they had guessed from when he had appeared aged— and it wouldn’t be too difficult to assume that most of those years would be spent within the crystal itself. ]

Or is this something you missed? [ A part of his home, as it were. ]

...I don't know. This isn't how it usually goes, right? I thought these were memories, but... nothing's happening.

[Each time it's been instantaneous, but now it's the void that frightens him. He can't tell if not seeing what's meant to happen here is better or worse than the truth.]

Maybe it's too early. Or maybe this isn't what we think it is.

[It isn't a memory, because this hasn't happened yet. He's never seen the throne room like this. Is this just- what it's like now? Empty and lifeless, broken to pieces like Lucis itself... it's heartbreaking. He doesn't like being in this room when his father is gone.]

[ If this isn't a memory, then that leaves this throne room to either being its current state or a part of its future.

Whatever the case, he's seeing a vision of an empty throne room, and it's the present to him, now. ] Do you... notice anything different about it? Aside from-- [ She raises her free hand, gesturing to the caved-in part. ]

[He looks up at the scene, taking it in, comparing it to what he remembers. The hole is the most obvious, but it doesn't take long for him to lift his free hand up towards the throne, pointing at the series of crisscrossing chains wound through the architecture that end in spears stabbing into the darkened blue crystal hanging above the chair.]

The crystal... we never kept it here. It was on another floor, in the center of the Citadel so it could power the wall. And it looks different now, it looks... dead.

[The ethereal glow of their family's magic has faded to nothing, leaving it a blue so dark it's nearly black. The last time he stood in front of it, the light had been so painfully bright it was nearly blinding. It had had a pulse, the life of the planet flowing through it and fueling his power. "Dead" was a truly appropriate descriptor now.]

[ Dead, he says, and the lone description appears to trouble her enough to cause her to frown even as she lifts her eyes to look upon his world's crystal. She can't imagine what it must be like at its full glory. Blinding, she guesses, like him.

In this depleted state, it means that there's little time left for his world, if nothing changes for it. If he doesn't--

Pyra's thumb pets over the side of his hand. ]

It's not too late. [ But not in the sense that he has to hurry up and die for his world, no. He's here, and he has time here. ] You can wait.

[Her words are kind. Merciful, even. She's giving him a choice. The words themselves seem contradictory, two paths to choose from.

It's not to late. The crystal is dark, but the world isn't dead yet. There's still hope.

You can wait. There's time to think about it, to give himself room to breathe, to live the best he can in whatever borrowed time he's given.

The choice, he'd said before, is what matters to him. And here in this room Bahamut's voice doesn't reach him, the ring isn't whispering in his ear. He can do whatever he wants, this isn't real.]

...Come with me?

[The choice is his, and he wants to know- what it feels like, how heavy it is up there. Not alone though, not if he doesn't have to be. He gives her hand a light tug, starting to rise, though he won't force her.]

[ Feeling the tug of his hand, she looks down at their grasp, then him, and then rises alongside him. ]

Always. [ She says simply, remaining by his side and walking to wherever he might lead. --Up the stairs, she's guessing, but she'll allow him to go at his own pace, footsteps echoing hollowly when their voices cannot. ]

[Quietly he guides her where she expects, up the stairs, skirting around the rubble and over broken tile until they reach the throne proper. He runs his free hand along the arm of it, feeling the smooth, chilly texture that is more real than a dream ought to be. He can't remember the last time he'd wanted to be this close to it, but there were times as a child that he'd run into the room between meetings, scampered up the stairs, and climbed up to sit on his father's lap. His legs would hang down, and he loved the dull echo of his shoe against stone and metal when he kicked it. Eventually he'd be shooed off so his father could attend another meeting, or Ignis would fetch him and apologize profusely to the council for interrupting, and off he'd go again. This was the king's chair. He never sat in it alone.

He stares at it for a long moment, his hand clenching Pyra's almost too tightly, feeling the heaviness of this choice on his heart before he moves closer. The king sits there. Dad sat there. But he's king, now, and this is home. At some point, some unremarkable moment between one racing thought and the next, he takes that final step and turns, sitting down on the throne. One hand grips the arm, the other hangs off the opposite side, still holding Pyra's like a lifeline.

When, once again, nothing happens or changes in the room around them, he murmurs,]

It's too big for me.

[He can't even properly reach the back of the throne unless he extends his legs. Just one more reminder that he's had big shoes to fill. It doesn't feel like it was meant for him. He doesn't know what it does feel like, but it's less final than he believed it might be. This is where his journey was meant to end... this is where fate had been leading him all along.

Just what is he supposed to feel?]

[ She's half a mind away from pulling her hand out of his, almost believing that, maybe, out of respect for him and what this means to him, and she as a foreigner to this throne room, this moment should be his to absorb. But she banishes the thought not even a moment later, keeping her hand linked with his. It'd be foolish of her, really, to think that that is what he'd prefer, sitting alone upon a throne, isolated. Especially when he had asked her to come with him.

Noctis is not the first then-prince she's met that had been set to become king, yet not wanting the throne, only for that kingdom to end up ruined. She hadn't had comforting words for that man then, only a warning that what he'd want wouldn't end up being what would happen.

It wasn't fair to him. It isn't fair to Noctis, either. He should have been able to choose how he'd want to live... and to die.

"It's too big for me."

She blinks at him when he breaks the silence, surprised at the statement-- A metaphorical statement, too. She imagines that it was probably a lot for each and every Lucis Caelum, sitting there, but none would have to experience kingship as Noctis would. Still, his comment catches her off guard-- really, after everything, that's what he'd first comment on?-- enough that she smiles in response. ]

I've always wondered that, you know. [ She says with a breathy half-laugh through her nose, keeping an eye on his expression, just incase a lighter topic is in poor taste at the moment. ] Why thrones have to be so grandiose.

[He shifts a little, somewhat awkward in the seat. The absurdity of his comment is mostly out of relief; he'd halfway expected the ghosts of his ancestors to materialize and kill him the moment he'd sat down in the chair. The fact that he's still here, alive, and able to hear her laugh about it is more than he'd ever thought he would experience when he claimed the throne for the first time.

As far as dreams go, it isn't so bad.]

Probably wouldn't have quite the same effect if we ruled the kingdom on a floral couch or something.

[Though the mental image is pretty funny.]

[ She squeezes his hand, supporting. ]

And if it were a couch that was covered with the skulls motif?

That sounds like the kind of throne I'd design, if it was my call.

[Though it's a guaranteed invitation for him to fall asleep during council meetings.]

[ And who's to say that he can't decree that he have a skull-studded couch as a throne? Other than... the fact that he'll only be able to sit upon it once. ]

Mm... You didn't manage to smuggle in any paint into here, did you? I think we have a some time to do a little bit of redecorating, just for you.

I wish. Don't think we can affect this room much.

[He brushes his hand idly over the velvet cushion beneath him. It feels real enough, but if he pushes too hard, it resists him in a way that seems just unnatural enough that he refrains from continuing. Like the purpose of this place is to observe, not to change.]

Nothing stopping us from getting a skull couch in the living room, though.

[ She notices how the velvet cushion beneath his touch doesn't budge as much as it would otherwise. As whimsical as her suggestion had been, it won't effect a vision. The only two who can change are herself and Noctis within the room, not the room itself.

And at that, Pyra moves in front of him, extending her other hand to him. ]

Come with me?

[He blinks in surprise at the sudden shift, but doesn't hesitate to take both of her hands in his, rising from the throne with a subtle relief crossing his expression. It was important to try, probably, so he could say he did it more than the one time it actually counts. Or at least so he could focus on how it felt without dying horribly in the process.

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter of the throne, he'll follow where she leads.]

So... [ Dropping one of their held hands, she begins to guide him back down the stairs. They can always make their way back up, if need be, but for now... ]

That was your first time sitting on there, wasn't it?

[ She's careful to keep her tone gentle as they walk, and once they're at the middle plateau of steps, she turns to face him. ]

But what about dancing? [ Saying so, she drapes her arms over his shoulders, looking up at him with a small smile.

She's not sure what else he had in mind, any hopes or dreams he'd have had while younger for when he would ever reign as king. Maybe it did include a skull-patterned couch, maybe it didn't. Maybe it didn't include dancing in the throne room, either. But what he wants to do with this vision, to make it his in this moment, she wants to give that opportunity to him, as if it might reclaim just a portion of hall for himself. ]

[His brows lift, surprised by the suggestion.]

Uh... this room's not really known for it, no.

[It's an odd thing to consider, but very much in line with what Pyra might suggest, so he shouldn't be that surprised, in hindsight. She's always finding ways to catch him off guard, to look at the seriousness of a situation and consider it from a different angle instead of focusing only on the bad. Usually, the distraction is nice. Here... he's considering it.]

Why, you wanna redo the floor for dancing, too?

We can't change this vision, but we can change ourselves within it. [ She drops one hand from his shoulder, taking his hand in hers and using that clasp as the leading side for their imaginary, slow dance. ]

Unless [ She lowers her voice, dipping her head towards him. ] it's against some Lucian royal custom to dance in the throne room?

[ Even so, he's king. He can do what he wants, and if he doesn't feel like a true and proper king--whatever that may even mean to him-- she can do her best to help him feel empowered like one.

....Of course, she knows that with such a soul-crushing force pressing in on him from all angles, it's a uphill battle. Yet every little thing counts, she tells herself. Every little thing. ]

[He follows along with it, shifting into a quiet, casual sway. Nothing formal (not that he's the best at it anyway) but his goal right now is to hold her close and give her what she's asking for, so he won't focus on the technicalities or the silence of the room.]

I'd guess that it's less a custom that you can't dance, and more that no one ever does. But who's gonna stop us here?

[This is... what, a dream? A vision? Some hallucination or virtual reality? He's king here, he's king at home. Whether he wanted it or not, this room belongs to him now, so he's allowed to make it his own.]

[ She's not so naive to believe that a single dance or a distraction will take away all the melancholy that hovers over him in this room, but she hopes she can facilitate a small piece of time that he can make his. And so, she adjusts to how he's swaying, moving slightly and slowly in a small turn along with him. ]

No one.

[ She smiles sweetly, answering his rhetorical question just because. ]

Epsecially because you're just so difficult to say 'no' to in the first place, anyway.

I should be the one saying that to you- you suggested it, after all.

[He has a hard time saying no to her, too. He'd never have started dancing in this room without her influence. Even now it does feel somewhat... would sacrilegious be the word for it? This is the location of what could be considered a divinely ordained event, and the crystal's right there. At the very least it's somewhat disrespectful to the dynasty. He can practically hear the entire council gossiping in the stands.

He doesn't care. He won't stop unless he's given very good reason to.]

[ She looks up at him, her expression fond. She's always liked how, in the times they've shared a few dances before, his bangs would also sway slightly with his movement, coming down just above his blue eyes. ]

Well, is there anything you want to do in this room? Specifically.

[ He sat on the throne. They're dancing now. Surely there's a bucket list of things he wants, but never had the chance to say or do in the throne room. ]

i-b lets goooooooo

wooooo

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