thanks i hate this [OPEN]

[adamantlyardent]

WHO: Cecelia, you
WHERE: Assorted
WHEN: December
WHAT: That thing where u just REALLY wanted to go home n chill for like two weeks after fighting helldemons and almost getting eaten in a dead volcano but then rescued by ur not-really-but-maybe angel boyfriend but instead ur in a smelly new world with no friends or contacts
WARNINGS: tbd


o1. De Chima: afternoon, leaving a public high school
[hey wow that was...stressful. not that everything else has been a cake walk or anything, but wow. nothing says welcome to the new world you got slammed into by complete accident quite like getting crammed into a room with 24 humans gawking at and murmuring about you. to say nothing of being completely lost in nearly all topics! she's been given a pathetic little booklet for imPort onboarding, which seems almost a joke, what with its hang in there kitten photo on the cover and just line after line of reference link she's apparently supposed to go seek out and read all on her own time on top of whatever work was being lumped on her in regular session.

at least there's all this buzz about a winter break soon? two weeks of absolute confusion and madness, and then three all to herself seems nice... except for all the work that she's being expected to do to catch up.]

It's fine. There's value to this. [she's muttering to herself, trying to hustle on her way through the clusters of students and parents, her breath coming out in puffed clouds of steam as she goes.] Some of it will be interesting, even. Maybe. Or useful. I'll be on the same page as, as all these other people. That's fine. Good. Great. It's an excuse to burrow away and just studyyyYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-!!

[her foot snags on uneven concrete, rolling her ankle and sending her and her mountain of books tumbling all over.

she's never watched a teen school drama before, so she has no idea how on-brand she is for the put-upon, klutzy protagonist. which is a real pity -- that'd make her feel at least a little bit better.]


o2. Heropa: some weekend morning, a boardwalk

['tis the season for petulant customers, right? she's enhancing the holidays without even realizing it, this girl, arguing with a hot dog stand vendor.]
Probably pork? What does that mean?

[Cecelia is flabbergasted. this...this sham of a food vendor can't even account for the contents of his own wares!]

How on earth do you expect anyone to be willing to purchase your so-called food if you can't even attest to what it even is!

["Miss, you don't have to buy it, you kn--"]

I KNOW I don't! That isn't the point! Are you trying to make fun of me or something?! I'm talking about proper, ethical business here! Both parties ought to be on the level with each other, knowing precisely what is being exchanged and its value.

[the wincing, exasperated look she gets in reply frustrates her more. with a loud scoff, she points at the cart.]

Open it up.

["What?"]

Go on! Show me the packaging your mystery foods were delivered in. I want to get to the bottom of this.



o3. Nonah: afternoon, a bus stop

...

[just read your book, Cecelia. just read it. it's fine. it doesn't matter that every vehicle here has to be the loudest, smelliest, most unpleasant thing in existence. it's fine if the clothes you bought don't fit the way you like -- this world doesn't believe in tailors, apparently! or cobblers, gods save her poor, blistering feet.

just be patient. read your book. shopping is over, you ride this bus back to the Porter, then another one to the house. then it'll be sweet, safe solitude. just...focus...on the pages...

...oh, gods. no. why.

Cecelia groans, her head lifting as she shoots the sky an agonized look.

why. WHY.

why are there so many grammatical errors in this stupid, mass-produced MESS?]

Um. Excuse me. Pardon-- [after she's done dramatically wincing at the sky, she's looking over to whomever is seated next to her on this bench.]

Sorry. Do you happen to have a, uh. A, a writing untens--pencil, yes. That. Pencil?


o4. Maurtia Falls: evening, a Christmas tree walk
[so far, most everything she's found and seen has left a bad impression. she hasn't been that eager to give this world a chance, honestly, and in her mind rightly so. why should she? it's allegedly temporary, and it seems to be a place to simply get swallowed up in, never minding anyone's true wants or needs. she hardly wants to cooperate any more than she must, and even then unhappily so.

yet...this...]

Oh-- it's...strings?

[after taking a quick glance about to be sure no one was watching her, Cecela reaches into the branches of one of the beautifully decorated trees on display outside a community center, pulling at a length of lights to better inspect it.

strings with little glass bulbs...different colors, twinkling. a kind of...weird impression of her dancing lights spell, she thinks.

hearing footsteps, she quickly yanks her hand away and steps back, surveying the whole tree more thoughtfully, finding herself unexpectedly charmed by it. trees didn't get this kind of glamorous treatment back home, so this is very novel to her.

gods help her, she may even like it...!]


o5. Miscellany
hmu @ whyellewhy on plurk if u wanna plot

Comments

HAVE SOME MOOOOORE

[knaval]

[boardwalks are nice. being near the ocean is nice! riptide would never admit, it because there's certain hydrobot stereotypes you want to avoid, but it's nice to know he could just switch and jump into the ocean for a couple days. avoid his problems with a certain level of intensity. he's also fond of boardwalks for the same reason cecelia is horrified: the food. he's singing a little song to himself as he wanders down the place, makin' your way in the quest today takes everything you've got! taking a break from all that war stuff sure did help a lot!

he's not a great singer and mercifully stops the moment he sees cece.]

Hey! [he greets both cece and the vendor cheerfully, pulling out some dollars.] Can I get a double dog?

[were they having a conversation? oh well! the next hot dog vendor is at least a five-minute walk away!]

[adamantlyardent]

Riptide! Oh-- [wait. what. what is he doing! alarmed:] Wait! Do you even know what is in these things this person is selling? They won't tell me at all!

[knaval]

Bottom of the barrel meat, I've found. The sort of thing only the cheapest people buy to resell.

[if this upsets the guy, he just ignores it.]

Tastes good, though.

[adamantlyardent]

[her mouth opens and closes with weak sound as she gapes between Riptide and the Pretty Done With This Part-Time vendor as the exchange of monies for...meat-things...proceeds.

incredulous:] You...wait. So--so you know the components of this...dish [??????] more than the actual retailer? And you know it's garbage and you're still going to consume it despite the surplus of options?

Why?

[knaval]

[he shrugs, watching the vendor pile on the toppings.]

Er, long story short it doesn't really matter what I eat like this. [it does. it really does.] I just use it for the energy when I'm in my natural Autobot mode!

[he gives her a really dramatic thumbs up.]

Life hack!

4!

[burlyboy]

[ Maurtia Falls is, and has always been, Magnus' home turf - which means that he's well acquainted with every inch of it, including this particular community centre. He'd been brought in to do a meet and greet for some underprivileged kids, which mainly meant he got to bowl in in costume and swagged about while they fawned over the face. Lucky for him, kids tend to like the baddies, and he'd wound up staying long after the rest of his crew had left, leaving him as the sole oddly costumed man in the building.

He's quite a sight when he comes out, a wooden bear mask on his face, a large furry cape draped over his shoulders and falling down to his ankles, wearing a well-crafted leather cuirass and all manner of furred accessories. He pauses to take in the Christmas lights as well, frankly delighted by them, and turns to peer at Cecela from underneath his mask. ]

They're lights, [ he supplies, as though she can't see that for herself. ] They hang 'em everywhere. It's how they celebrate Candlenights.

[adamantlyardent]

[she can't be too surprised at his speaking, because there's no way she'd have missed such a looming presence filling up space behind her. it's why she's already doing that double-take and recoil as he explains, her face getting red like a child's when caught stealing sweets before dinner.]

Ca-candlenights? [gods. she almost mistook him for H'gar of all people, all furred up and bulky like that! it leaves her feeling a bit mixed up inside, but big girls don't cry on a dime, so neither will she.] Is that different than this, uh...Christmas-thing I've been seeing everywhere?

[burlyboy]

Ah, it's just something where I'm from. All the winter festivals got smushed together. Makes things easier than having to learn about all of them.

[ Of course, Christmas is the one that dominates here - but Magnus has heard about enough others to make his head spin. He'll stick with Candlenights, thanks. It's a good way of making sure everyone is included while staying true to the spirit of the holidays: friends, family, food, and enough booze to make your head spin.

He grins down at Cecelia. ]

I didn't mean to startle you! Don't worry, I'm harmless. [ He taps the mask and faux whispers to her: ] This isn't my real face.

[adamantlyardent]

I'm aware.

[that came out flatter than she'd intended just out of instinct. it's not her fault, ok? because that statement was obvious and dumb.

she gives a little huff, hastily combing at stray hair in an attempt to recompose.]

I-it's fine. I wasn't paying much mind to my surroundings. Fool mistake, I know. But if I pay any more attention to the new things around me, my head will split in six different directions and I'll be done for.

5 ROOMIES!!!

[monster_san]

[So... De Chima. It's still not home, but at least it gets cold in the waning months of the year, and is therefore more homelike than Florida was.

She doesn't know very much about her new housemates yet. Between the chaos of the moonbase and the kerfuffle of getting settled in at school and at her new job, it's been difficult. One thing that's been relieving the stress is planning out her campaigns as Castlemaster.

Right now that means having a map and some unpainted figurines spread out on the coffee table as she walks around it, scribbling possible scenarious in her notebook--so caught up that she doesn't realize she's about to walk into someone until the red hair is right under her eyes. And then Fuu lets out a soft yelp and jumps back just before collision.]

oh my god they were roommates

[adamantlyardent]

YEEP-!!

[to be fair to Fuu, Cecelia wasn't exactly paying attention to what was ahead of her, either: from the time she walked into the house to the near-crash, her nose had been stuck in a book, even as she'd wiggled off her long boots at the door. and why not? all the other (admittedly, few) times she'd come in here, it'd been dead quiet. seems her schedule didn't quite jive with whomever else resided here.

well, until now.

for her part, aside from the undignified squeak, Cecelia bounces back almost the same amount of space Fuu did, her eyes wide and her face immediately red. after the initial beat of fright, indignation is starting to seep in, displayed only by a twitching of one of her ears.]

G-gods, what! I-! When did-?! Excuse me?

[monster_san]

[Is this her housemate, then? Fuu knows they're around, but this is the first time she's properly meeting one of them. Amidst the adrenaline she registers the red face, the tone of the other girl's voice, and the twitching ear--fright? aggravation? reflexes?

it's all good information to file away but with the present awkwardness, long-held instincts take over and Fuu quickly bows, looking a bit red herself.]

I'm terribly sorry! I had no idea--ah--that we share a house. Miss...?

[adamantlyardent]

Pardon? [what? housemate?

oh. oh. so this is...]

So...you're the Nico I communicated with some time before? The owner of those? [she points toward the foyer, where a...gothier set of boots rests near Cecelia's own thigh-highs.]

3 let's have a friendly elf encounter

[patchricide]

Hm? [Allura hadn't noticed that someone else was waiting at the bus stop, because... well, because she was also reading a book, and properly distracted by hers. Without technology to fall back on for information, she's taken to more old-fashioned methods to continue learning about this world.]

Just a moment. I should have one right here...

[Pencils are also fairly antiquated, but somehow people seem to find typing on a computer to be impersonal and distant, which doesn't help much with mediation. So, she's gotten quite used to taking notes by hand, and all the cramps associated with it. It takes a moment of rummaging in her bag, but she produces a pencil and hands it over to...]

[Another one? Another not-Altean, with the same sort of ears. How strange.]

What did you need it for?

yesss

[adamantlyardent]

[she has a beat of relief at being so readily obliged that she doesn't even truly look at who she asked...at least, not until Allura's mid-gesture hesitation to regard her. that's what has Cecelia blink and look up properly.

and blink again.

ears...]

I, ah... [she shakes her head just slightly to snap out of her surprise, her mouth twitching.] Well, you see! My...this... [instead of snatching the pencil outright, she instead holds up the book.] There's just...a plethora of grammatical errors here, and I just. I really want to fix them for whomever borrows it next! And...

[oh no. her mind's buzzing! you can't just ask somebody if they're properly an elf and yet that's what she's dying to right now. but that'd be so rude!!!]

[patchricide]

In a published book? I thought they had a whole process for these things, to check the writing over before they go through the trouble of publishing it...

[Dubious or not, she's handing the pencil over. How else is it going to be fixed? It's not like digital records, where you can update the source and everyone will see the changes. This seems perfectly fine.]

[Besides, like the other not-Alteans she's seen, she's happy to look for excuses to keep talking.]

If I might ask, though — what is the book about?

[adamantlyardent]

Yes. Well. One would think, but what do I know about human standards? [her nose scrunches up as she accepts the pencil and glowers back down at the pages. she already takes to striking out or circling things that displease her even as Allura asks, and Cecelia, now driven by spite against this published mess, no longer stutters or wavers:]

Some wishy-washy romp about being spirited away to another world and wooed by an otherworldly champion of the downtrodden. Honestly, I admire the spirit imbued in it, but the execution completely ruins the immersion. How am I supposed to find anything heart-poundingly gripping with such an abhorrent abuse of punctuation in my face at each line?! I mean really...!

heropa

[viciousmaukery]

[Molly, sipping on his frozen latte, thinks that he should probably not get into this.

Molly absolutely does not care, because he's a little bored and a bored Molly is one who's willing to indulge himself and get involved in shit like this. So now: there's a very loud sip from behind Cece, and a purple tiefling in a horrific clash of patterns steps closer to lean in.]

So what is in those?

["Pork! That's usually what they're made of! Are either of you going to buy or what?!"]

Well, since you're so insistent, I'll buy, do a little taste-test. [Thus saying, Molly hands over way more money than he probably should have, but he doesn't hear a complaint from the poor, beleaguered vendor about the amount, so he'll just merrily assume that it's more than welcome.

To Cece:] It's usually best to take it on faith the merchant's not going to poison you, I've found. It's spectacularly bad for business if they do.

[adamantlyardent]

O-oh!

[Cecelia startles, leaning away, her eyes going big when she realizes it's--]

M-M...Muh-Mol-- [Mollymauk Tealeaf, that kind tiefling who she'd literally run into mere days past! gobsmacked and redfaced, her mouth opens and closes a few times with a couple futile syllables before she falls silent and watches him dumbly offer kinder exchanges with the vendor she was just grilling.

...oh, gods. how long did he hear her go on like that? he must think she's some kind of obnoxious tightass jerk, even if it is fishy that this whole operation is, oh gods who cares she's an idiot.

her life quietly implodes as money is exchanged, most certainly doomed to be an absolute mess in the face of the kind tiefling man who decides to grace her with words again.

buh. words?? oh. right.]

Uh-! R-right! I--I mean. Of course, I just...I was only...oh...umh. [flustered, eyes welling up, she backs away, eyes darting between vendor and Molly.]

S-sorry! Excuse me!

[she turns, starts to run, snags her boot on a loose plank, and gets flung over the railing into the sand below with a strangled squeak.]

[viciousmaukery]

[Molly bites down on the hot dog, and his tail sways delightedly behind him. It rustles the skirt of the simply-awful dress he's got on, and he swallows.]

'Lo, Cecelia. [And he gives a lazy wave. She absolutely was kind of a tightass jerk, but now it looks like she's rapidly reconsidering it, and so Molly congratulates himself a little bit over using a teachable moment to its full advantage and scoring a hot dog out of it.] It's safe!

[He says just as she backs away, and he actually frowns a little, worried. Is something wrong? He's just about to ask when she bolts, and he swears under his breath and runs after her.

And he rolls a 22 and thus avoids the loose plank with deft grace, even in the frankly-horrendous outfit he's wearing. He then rolls a natural goddamn 20 holy FUCK lands onto the sand, tucking and rolling and coming up with nary a scratch, holding a hand out to Cecelia.

Also, through all that time, he had a hot dog in hand, and it's miraculously survived Molly's acrobatics.]

You all right? I didn't know that plank had gotten loose. [Because Molly's a dextrous fucker.]

[adamantlyardent]

[why. why this. this is so stupid. why do stupid things happen to her? is it her fault? did she do this to herself? gods, what she'd give for the sand to swallow her up and bury her. it's the only solution, the only way to stop being such an extraordinary embarrassment and--]

O-oh...

[she sniffles, realizing he's there. dammit all, of course he is. he's just perfectly nice like that, here to observe her in all her glorious stupidity.

she props herself up on her elbows, slowly getting her legs under her, avoiding even the merest glimpse of him out of shame.]

It's my fault. For being...stupid. Stupid and not looking or...or paying attention. It's what I deserve, so.

3

[a_good]

[Norman's concentrating on a book himself - an overview of archeological methods he picked up from Nonah's library - but he looks up as soon as Cecelia speaks.]

Oh, of course. [He closes his book, keeping his place in it with a finger as he uses his other hand to dig something out of his bag. It's only a moment before he unearths a mechanical pencil and offers it to Cecelia, peering curiously at her book.] Are you taking notes?

[adamantlyardent]

Fixing, more like. The grammar is atrocious...thank you. [she plucks the pencil from him, doing a double-take to give it a curious look. her ears picked up the little rattling of pencil lead inside, and that's...different.]

...Odd shape...

[but it works, right? she tests with a little scratch on the corner of the page to no avail.

what.]

[a_good]

[Well, errors are aggravating, in that they can obscure the author's actual intention. (Unless it's a code, but that's not too likely with most of the books here.) Going ahead and correcting them, though, is a level of dedication Norman's never seen.]

Oh, you'll have to get the lead started. Press the button with the eraser on the top.

[adamantlyardent]

Eh-? Oh, um. [she tilts the pencil, giving it a more careful look before doing as he says.

click.]

Oh. Weird... [she scratches at the page again and behold, writing.]