𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐞 (holiday fantasy OPEN)

[Ashton_99]

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Callum Mackenna❈◦•≫
X◦•Tags◦• Adelaide/Ilion◦•
X◦•Location◦•Bakery/Snowfell◦•
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X‘Welp,’ Callum felt a little frustrated by how blatantly Adelaide was dodging his questions with half-truths. But
he knew that he couldn’t force someone to accept his help who didn’t want it. He resigned himself to doing
what he could though, that would have to be good enough. Getting annoyed wouldn’t help either of them,
Adelaide seemed just as confused as he was about this whole thing.
X

XPicking up the empty plate, he hummed, “So, you came here somehow without a jacket, and you're not in any trouble besides being lost and accidentally committing B&E?” And okay, that came out a little sharper than he intended as he summarized her situation to himself. That was not how Callum wanted to act. He took a deep breath and tried to shake out the frustration as he took the serving plate to the bakery’s kitchen sink. He’d deal with it later.

X“Alright, sure, why not? Um,” Callum returned to the front area of the bakery to give Adelaide a once over. She needed a jacket, and she needed a snack, those were both do-able things. He nodded to himself, “There’s a lodge just past the main square. I’ll take you there, just give me a second to finish closing up, okay?”

XFirst, Callum returned Pike to her rightful place back upstairs and not in his place of business. He made sure to give her a treat and extra scritches to placate her. The little cat was less than pleased to be left behind on this adventure. There was no way he was taking Pike out in this weather though, no matter how much of an adventure cat she may want to be. After Pike was safely back home, Callum went about the bakery finishing up a few menial chores.

XWhen he was done he returned to Adelaide, wearing his own winter coat with a spare in hand. Normally, he would have let Adelaide borrow one of his sister’s coats that she left behind since they were about the same size, but seeing as he didn’t trust the stranger in the slightest he gave her one of his old coats instead. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with the unholy rage that would occur if Shannon came back to visit and saw her stuff missing. Callum valued his life after all.

X“Here, you can have this,” Callum handed her the jacket. He grabbed her a spare pair of winter gloves as well before slipping on his own. “We’ll pick up something to eat on the way to the lodge since we’re going to pass through the winter festival anyway.” Some of the stalls always had warm food and that sounded perfect for a winter’s evening such as this.

XFinished with all the preparation, Callum made sure all the lights were off save the twinkling Christmas lights in the display windows and braced himself for the cold. The door to the bakery opened and instantly Callum had to fight the wind to keep it open. He ushered Adelaide through, steeling himself against the biting cold.

XCallum had grown up in this weather, but the storm already felt like something else and it hadn’t even fully arrived yet. Still, despite the snow storm and the bitter cold, there was a kind of magic in the air. This time of year, there was always a sort of natural wonder about Snowfell. From the auroras that danced in the sky when conditions were just right to the warmth of the fire in every fireplace, there was no place else Callum would rather be when all was said and done. Snowfall was home in a way no place else ever could be.

XKeeping an eye on Adelaide to ensure she didn’t wander off or absolutely freeze to death, Callum led them through the snowy streets of Snowfell. It was a small town, and he knew it all like the back of his hand. They were drawing nearer towards the main square where lights and cheer was abound despite the inclement weather.

XAnd that was when Callum heard retching. Oh boy. It was that kind of night apparently. The baker tries to locate the source of the sound, glancing into the narrow alleyway between two buildings. And that’s where he sees a man loosing his lunch in the snow.

XOr well, sort of a man. Maybe a man. He was freaking purple.

X“Oh my god, I’ve finally lost it.” Callum says without really meaning to. Next to him he had a girl that appeared in the middle of his bakery talking about vampires and now there was a purple…. humanish man in front of him. He kind of wanted to throw up too. Or just turn around and go home.

XBut, he couldn’t just abandon Adelaide when she was lost, and the guy with horns didn’t look all that great. Callum cursed his innate desire to take care of others and he tentatively stepped towards the man. “Uh, hey buddy, are you okay over there?” He called, trying to keep his voice friendly and without any of his nervousness. It was a valiant effort. Callum was proud of himself for not having a full on panic attack right then and there.

[Stargazer3000]

𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐚
tagged erika | mentioned | location outskirts of Snowfell
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The woman’s answer came as no surprise to Vanya, who silently nodded in acknowledgment as she glanced once more at the back of the inn, a flickering bulb above the door fighting back the shadows of the alley. It was a modest building, with no more than six rooms for rent, but it was comfortable, homey, warm, in a way that made Vanya ache. That warmth was why she hesitated - opening the door to a stranger, to this stranger felt wrong; something about her rang false.

And yet. And yet.

“I see,” Vanya murmured, taking a cautious step closer towards the door, and as consequence, closer towards the stranger. “Well then.” The wind, the door, the stranger - it felt like they were in a world of their own in the alley, caught in a dance that Vanya did not know the steps for. Once again, Vanya’s gaze was drawn to the stranger’s face, searching for something in those haunting eyes. Some kind of reassurance, a promise of peace.

But all Vanya could see was something haunted, something wild. It made her breath catch in her throat as she leaned almost imperceptibly closer, trying to see better in the dim light - a moth to the flame, caught in a spell - until a peal of laughter carried from a street over and cut through the quiet like a shot, breaking the moment. Vanya felt heat rise unbidden to her cheeks as she came back to herself, to reality.

The resolution of this…situation was simple enough - Vanya would bring the woman to the inn, then find someone who could truly help her, rather than force her to linger out in the cold. And if the stranger was a threat? Well, then at least Vanya would not have to face her alone.

She’d been silent a beat too long, so Vanya softly cleared her throat and gestured to the door of the inn before speaking. “I can’t get you to the clinic to get that,” a quick nod at the stranger’s cut, “looked at, but but at the very least someone in there might be able to help - it’s an inn.” She continued by way of explanation, resuming her slow approach of both the door and stranger.

Instead of forcing the woman to move, Vanya slipped around her in the alley, holding her breath as she passed by. At the door Vanya bit the tip of her glove between her teeth, tugging it off in a smooth pull. Fishing around in her pocket, she produced the key to the back door, slipped it into the lock, and felt relief wash over her at the thought of getting real help - only to be greeted by a cold, empty lobby.

“The faire,” Vanya sighed, disappointment tinging her voice with darkness. Her eyebrows pulled up in concern as she turned back to face the woman, who clearly could not linger in the snow much longer. “I’m sorry,” she stated simply - for her failed plan, for the woman’s obvious distress, for her own indecision - before stepping into the small building, and leaving the door open in what she hoped was a silent invitation.

Vanya could not recall ever seeing the fireplace unlit in her few weeks at the inn, but it sat unused and cold, making the inside little warmer than the frigid alley. A small sign at the front desk confirmed Vanya’s fears - Taken tour to faire, will return after fireworks. If assistance is needed, please call a listed number below. Happy holidays! .

With a huff of quiet annoyance, Vanya reached over the desk and picked up the phone reserved for the receptionist. A monotone drone filled the line - the wind must have disturbed the telephone wires.

Without checking over her shoulder to confirm that the woman had followed her inside, Vanya murmured, “It seems like that ‘help’ I mentioned will have to wait - I’m truly sorry. Would, mmm…” Vanya faltered, glancing up the stairs toward her room where she knew warm blankets and a portable heater awaited her. It was a risk, a far greater one than inviting a stranger into a public inn, but the haunted look of the woman’s eyes lingered in Vanya’s mind as she pressed on, “would a bath help? Maybe some food?”

[Stargazer3000]

𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧
tagged callum, adelaide | mentioned | location somewhere in Snowfell
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x
Ilion cursed, low and guttural. Around him, the world continued spinning at a horrific pace and his vision swam as he fought to keep his balance. Wherever he was there was no port master to be seen, no sounds of a bustling city, no familiar scents wafting through the air - nothing. Just darkness and quiet pressing in on all sides.

That, and a rising sense of dread - the feeling of jumping from a building one story too high and watching the ground rise up to meet him at a pace he hadn’t anticipated. Ilion was just bracing for impact.

With his head still pounding, he forced himself to focus, take in every scrap of light he could and ground himself. As seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, Ilion’s surroundings became increasingly clear - a desk in the corner, a well worn chair beside it. Shelves and rugs, thick curtains drawn tight, and, blessedly, a door silhouetted by a dim golden light filtering in from the outside.

A simple push, and Ilion emerged from the darkness into an alley blanked by slow - and thank goodness too, his day thus far had been far too simple. A howl of wind rushed down the narrow street and for a heartbeat Ilion considered staying where he was, looking for answers, for information in the residence he’d been sent to - if only to grab a fleeting few moments of respite.

But Ilion had no time to spare, not when he’d already wasted so much, put so much at risk.

And so, praying that his soiled tunic had not yet worn too thin to be of use, he stepped out into the chill. As Ilion glanced around in a futile attempt at finding any familiar architecture, the sounds of distant chatter and cheer were carried to him by the wind.

As a younger boy, Ilion might have followed the sound, might have let it draw him in like a warm embrace, and look for answers among a throng of strangers. But now? Now he’d traveled, been to as many realms as there were ports, and carved each into his mind. Now he was inclined to go up - on a roof he would be able to see more, pick out landmarks, travel unseen, uninhibited.

Perhaps he’d moved too fast, or perhaps the gods were making him pay for his crimes, or perhaps it was pure, stupid bad luck, but as Ilion quickly glanced up the movement made his vision swim once again, made his head pound, and he doubled over, retching into the once clean snow.

At least no one was around to see the frankly humiliating display.

“Uh, hey buddy, are you okay over there?”

Damn.

Still doubled at the waist and bent low, a dark chuckle slipped out from between Ilion’s lips. About as far from ‘okay’ as I can get. Wiping his mouth with the back of his black glove, Ilion rose to his full height, responding in his litling tone, “I will be, hopefully, once I’ve got nothing left to…ah, lose.” Keeping his tone light, Ilion turned to face the source of the question - in his experience, no one approached a stranger in an alley out of the kindness of their hearts, more often than not they were looking for an easy mark. And even now, weakened as he was, Ilion refused to be easy.

“Say, I seem to have gotten lost,” he called, feigning a slight slur in his voice as he leaned against the wall in exaggerated need for support, a wide, east smile spreading across his lips. There was no need to draw more attention to himself than he already had by raising a fuss about a portal mishap - no, he’d deal with it on his own. It was far easier to lean into the role of a reveler who had enjoyed the nearby event a bit too much.So he let his full weight sag against the wall as he took in the two figures silhouetted by the dying embers of day.

One was a man, lacking obvious markings of the fae and daemon alike - interesting. Very interesting indeed. An exile perhaps? His hair was tousled in the wind, but his stance was open, untrainted. For a second, Ilion let himself consider that this stranger might truly be concerned for his well-being. The second passed quickly. Beside the man was a slip of a woman - graceful, and lean, and… familiar?

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌,xxx 𝘐 x𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌 x𝘛𝘖 x𝘉𝘌 x𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 x𝘋𝘖𝘎 !

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☾ ⋅ ──── ⋅ 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐀 xx 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⋅

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𝖡𝖸 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖸 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖪, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖢𝖠𝖭 𝖬𝖤𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖸 𝖡𝖱𝖮𝖪𝖤𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖳

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tagging; vanya
mentioned; -
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location; snowfell outskirts > inn
feeling; cautious

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Murmured words mingled with the wind whistling through the alley. A flurry of snow billowed from an eave, spread into the air overhead, and caught the light over the door for a moment, glittering as if suspended. The woman stepped closer and Erika straightened reflexively, but found she could not bring her eyes level with the stranger's. In her years-long isolation, her sense of personal space had crept out further and further, and now she felt its invisible borders pressing back against herself, a dense force like a wall, but even as it compelled her to move away, she did not take a step away.
indentindentInstead, she stood still, as if pinned to the gaze of the intensely blue eyes on her. Breath held in her throat, as if inspected, or maybe hoping to avoid being seen. What was this stranger looking for in the paling green of her eyes? Did she know after all? Was she playing some manner of long game, aware of more than she gave away? If so, what would she need to find in order to make whatever decision she was putting off? Yet this searching seemed genuine, as if neither of them knew what they were looking for.
indentindentIt might have been the first time in a long time that Erika had really looked at a face. Another face. It wasn't comfortable. But she didn't particularly wish to look away, either. All she knew was that there were reasons others didn't look at her. Why she didn't look at others. Then laughter pierced the suspended air between them, the woman blinked, and the spell was broken. Erika tensed, and simultaneously realised that as unmoving as she had been, she hadn't been tense before. Self-conscious, maybe. The woman turned away, just slightly, and Erika's breath puffed out into the cold.

indentindentA resolution seemed to come over her, a kind of rearrangement of her posture, and Erika found herself waiting for what it would mean. A clinic? She had heard of them in the big cities, the ports like Everwinter, with real doctors trained at academies greater than any she had ever seen, even as a child, but for a cut? Had the situation not been so strange, so quiet and almost fragile, she'd almost have wanted to laugh. She had dealt with injuries far worse on her own, nursed her wounds in places much more antithetical than this silent, freezing alleyway in a place she did not know. But the stranger did not appear to know of such things, and seemed to consider the cut something grave. It almost felt like learning something about her, if only Erika had known which way to place this grain of knowledge in the much-too-empty tapestry of the things she now knew about this world. There was snow. Humans. Pain seemed deeper here. Was it herself or the laws of this realm?
indentindentHer eyes tracked toward the door of the what had been indicated as an inn to her, watched the swift movements of her hands, the key as it slipped into the lock. There was a familiar word, inn, and yet she hadn't been allowed inside one as herself for a good while. How she had once longed for the warmth of a hearth and a good meal before it had all grown so far away as if difficult to think about. Maybe she had simply taken the longing and crushed it small, hidden it out of sight, because when the woman's quiet step into the doorway wordlessly invited her inside, it was as if something had cracked in her chest. A hollow pain, of the past, of uncertainty. Gratitude. So much feeling arising from a mere implied invitation.
indentindentAnd then the woman turned back to her, her face and voice veiled with worry, disappointment. Erika's own brows knit together, but in confusion and uncertainty, as the woman stepped further in. What was she being apologized to for? In the span of a few moments, this person whom she had never met before had shown her more kindness than anyone had in years. A beat of hesitation, and Erika followed her inside, tracking snow over the doorstep, into the cool room that still managed to feel much warmer in comparison to the frigid, blustery alley. The entry was quiet to the point of desertion, and Erika noticed that she was relieved. Without thinking, she had been fearing a crowded room, but there they were, alone. The walls around them seemed to hum gently, like distant rain, like the light outside, and she couldn't tell what it might have been that surrounded them so thoroughly. Magic? It made her feel vaguely uneasy, but in a way that was different from the usual unease that settled deep. Her skin buzzed.

indentindentThe woman leaned over a desk and picked up an oblong object. Its shell was shiny but in a dull way. Not metallic. It emitted a strange sound, and this appeared to have been displeasing, or perhaps the wrong answer to whatever question she was asking it, because soon she placed it down again and the sound ended. Erika swallowed her emotions about the situation, around the old lump in her throat. It was nearly overwhelming to her, all of this, but she understood that it must have been more than mundane to anyone who hadn't been exiled from society for most of their lives. And she no longer had any desire to frighten this woman away. Truthfully, she feared doing so.
indentindentShe apologized again for reasons that Erika didn't fully understand, and it made her conscious of having spoken barely a word again, so used to dwelling in her own thoughts and emotions, standing watch for any flicker that brought some change to the monotony and loneliness. The exile. She had half been expecting this woman to read her own mind for her.
indentin"It's alright. Please, don't apologize," she offered, caught in a strange in-between state of sudden emotional ease and physical unease. "We haven't met before. None of this is your fault," she added, slightly quieter than the words that had come before.
indentindentThe woman offered food and what she imagined would be a real, warm bath rather than an ice cold creek at dawn. She was used to being uncomfortably conscious of her own state in the rare times she was among people, the torn and poorly mended clothes, the black hair that would always grow just a little too long before she would care to cut it. And now the blood that must have been drying at her temple, although she could feel the ache of the cut itself slowly dulling. Yet in the moment, the food called to her more, stoking her hunger, an old friend, and she accepted, trying not to sound too eager.
indentin"Food would be great. Thank you." Where had these manners come from? Her childhood? As soon as her thoughts turned to the past, terror crept over her, an overwhelming force that took her in its grip. She had forgotten about the beast, possibly for the first time in her life, and now she was enclosed in a room together with what might have been the first person in the world she would have mourned for more than the average life. An instinctive step carried her backwards, away from the woman.
indentindentErika was afraid to ask, to broach the topic with another person, to even toe closer to what had set her so forcefully apart from everyone, but it was for their safety.
indentin"Do you..." she started, then stopped for a moment to taste her own words in an attempt to see them from the stranger's side. How could she make it clear enough without frightening her away as she frightened everyone else? "Do you know the phases of the moon? Is it close to full here?" There was a pleading, urgent edge to her tone that she tied to soften, but it had been years since she had spoken about her curse with anyone, and even then, only indirectly.

[Consulting_Angel]

Raoul Solaris
Location: Snowfell Library
Tagged: Vincent

Okay, so he was a little cold. Maybe that was just a side effect that he hadn't had yet while porting, and no one had warned him about. How annoying, it would have been nice to have been informed. He didn't like the thought of not being able to keep warm. Surely his inner flame would warm him up in no time... at any moment now... no? Okay, how about creating a tiny flame to keep his hands warm, as risky as it may be, being in a library, he'll try that.
And... nothing.

No magic. No phoenix powers. Great. He didn't even bring a jacket. His shirt, while long sleeved, was still somewhat thin and airy, since he'd never needed one before. And a quick glance out the window told him it had snowed, which meant it was going to be even colder out there. Maybe he'd be able to hole up in the library as he tried to work out what was going on. He did think about getting another port opened to get back home, but that would require a portmaster, and he had a feeling if he went around asking if anyone would open ports around here, he'd get some very strange looks. Raoul gradually accepted the fact that he was stuck here for the time being.

As he's trying to figure out what to do - and he can't even appreciate all the books that he's surrounded by, which is even more upsetting - Raoul is distracted out of his thoughts by a voice, asking him if he knew what time the library closed. People - that he could work with. Maybe he could find some answers as to where he was, at the very least. Even, perhaps, a way to leave.

Turning around with a warm smile, Raoul shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't. I'm just visiting." he replied, apologetically. He took a quick look around, and, noting that there didn't seem to be anyone else around, and most of the lights were now turning off, added, "Although I suspect it must be very close to closing, if not closed already. We may get kicked out by a librarian soon enough."