January Catch-All [Semi-Open]

[frogiturgy]

Who: Perell frogiturgy and you!
What: A wizard shows up in Trench and tries to get settled
When: Throughout January
Where: Throughout Trench

Content Warnings: references to recent body theft, near drowning, and a depressed Wizard.

> Open Threads

> Closed Threads

Comments

Open Threads

[frogiturgy]

Intro

[frogiturgy]

A-- Haberdashery

He didn't like the cold.

Perhaps it was his recent problems with nearly drowning in the open sea, where the torrential current was only matched by the torrential storms that continued endlessly over the Sea of Graves, but Perell did not like the cold-- and was miffed that all of the fashionable hats were sold out.

Or, at least they weren't being sold to him.

"What do you mean, none of this is good enough to trade?"

A selection of sundry items, ranging from cool shells to small, empty jars were spread out over the counter while Perell looked askance at the Shopkeeper. He knew he had only arrived, but weren't newcomers supposed to have an easier time getting necessities?

"Well, there might be One..."

The Shopkeeper reached over and delicately plucked the long, delicate looking feather Perell had stuck in the knit cap he wore as a memento-- and immediately Perell snatched it back.

"Uh. No. That's not for trade."

Suddenly protective, Perell tucked it away into safety. It wasn't much, but it was an expensive accessory...

And the first one he had bought in well over a century.

B-- The Library

If there was any place that had the answers he needed, it was the library.

Perell, a man who well understood the power of books, was prepared for the haul of an extensive research venture. Sure, he could ask Vyng or Tuck for information, but he knew what the odds were on that front and he preferred the direct approach to information gathering over accepting it from secondhand resources.

He also wasn't Wanted in this land. It was amazing how nice a little freedom felt after so long without.

Throughout the month people could find Perell tucked in a corner with a mountain of books, scribbling notes in his book or even passed out among the tomes he had gathered. Perhaps he wasn't as well prepared for extensive study as he thought.. but, at least his heart was there.

Wildcard

[Don't like a prompt? Make one up!]

A

[eudaimonikos]

[And then, suddenly, there's a tall old man here! He's grinning.]

Looking for hats?

[frogiturgy]

[It was a small mercy that the man wasn't too tall. Perell wasn't short, but he was of average height-- being among people who were practically as tall as trees had its own troubles.]

Well. Yeah.

[It's why he was in the shop that sold hats. That and, even under the knit cap he was wearing, it was obvious that he was a little bald.]

I've got a good, warm one already. It's just not very... fashionable. This town seems like a place that appreciates good fashion, so I was hoping to get a nicer looking one for nicer occasions.

[eudaimonikos]

Well, if you're looking for fashionable hats at an affordable price -

[He puts his arm around Perell's shoulders and starts to steer him away from the booth, apparently not at all above just snaking other peoples' customers right out from under them. If they can't be bothered to go easy on a newbie without a lot of trade goods, then that's their problem!]

- there's another shop right down the road that does custom work! What sort of thing were you thinking?

b

[onekindsoul]

When Perell wakes up he'll find that his isn't the only mountain of books in this section of the library. Another one has cropped up just down the aisle from his own. The main difference is this one looks particularly more "Fort" like including a little hole in the middle for a mechanical eye to spy through and a pirate flag jutting out from the top.

Eventually with little warning a book will come sailing through the air out of the top of the fort to crash into Perell's pile of books.

[frogiturgy]

That was...

Startling.

Perell jumped up in his seat when he heard the book crash into his pile, momentarily bewildered and heart racing as he blearily wondered if a monster was really going to assail them with the First of the Sailors taking them to safety. Then he observed the books... and he remembered where and when he was.

This wasn't the Sea of Graves anymore. This was Trench-- and evidently the library was a den for pirates.

He hummed thoughtfully, still bewildered, and set his notes aside. He wasn't keen on turning books into actual ammunition, but perhaps there was still a way out of this peacefully.

[wapples]

Billie is standing in the fort next to Ruby. He peeks out the little hole so he can judge where Perell and the stack of books are. He doesn't know much about books, he doesn't even know how to read, but this is a much more entertaining use for them.

"Watch this, I bet I can knock over the rest of the stack," he whispers. He rifles through their pile of 'ammo books' looking for one that's just the right size and weight. He picks up something that looks very old, and rather small with gold writing he doesn't recognize on the cover, and holds it in one hand, with the spine facing outward.

He peeks through the hole one more time before launching it at Perell's pile.

wild

[siriusly]

Anyone home?

[Manabu calls from the door as he steps in late afternoon, his dog omen trotting in after him. he nudges the door shut behind him, setting a box down so he can get his boots off.]

I got some surplus goods from the Roost, so if anyone likes tomato sauce...

Oh this will be wild all right

[frogiturgy]

[Perell hadn't known what to expect-- all he knew was that, despite how crappy he felt, he couldn't just lie around all day. Thus he was outside of the tent that had been pitched in the living room and was currently head and shoulders deep in a cabinet.

The thud followed by a soft 'owww' was all the answer Manabu needed that there was someone unusual in the house.]

[siriusly]

[the thud is startling - both for Manabu and Magnet. the latter's ears perk and nose starts going, sniffing around the tent in search of the source.

Manabu slowly straightens, nudging his boots aside as he slowly steps further inside.

warier:] ...Hello?

( b )

[cryptograms]

Normally Ford would be a bit hesitant to approach a total stranger in the library, especially when the reason he wants to approach - that stranger having a book - is easily solved by just wandering through the stacks until he locates his own copy. It's something he enjoys doing anyway. But with January's Darkblood effects still in full swing there's not a chance of that happening. So instead he simply approaches Perell and offers him a friendly:

"Greetings! I was wondering if you still using that." And he points to one of the books on the table, one that covers the appearance of various forms of blood magic throughout Trench folklore.

[frogiturgy]

Unknown to Perell was the Warmblood effects of encouraging positivity in others just by his own presence-- a striking contrast to growing worry that seemed to gnaw at his heart as the days since his arrival in Trench steadily pressed forward. Whatever Tuck and Vyng had done when they severed his chains to the entity that had called itself Pellar seemed to have severed something else.

Even back in the Sea of Graves, he was starting to suspect it-- and that suspicion was only compounded in Trench when the world saw fit to not grant him much anything by way of abilities that resembled thaumaturgic practice. The result had left the now self-called Wizard moody and depressed for the moment while he processed the full ramifications of this and battled with a future that was more uncertain than ever. He would find a fix. He always did. For the moment, he just needed time.

Perell peered up from the old, dusty tome from underneath the brim of the worn hat he had kept on despite being in the library, the words Histories and Practices of Bloodcraft emblazoned in shining lettering upon the worn leather-bound cover of the book he was reading, and glanced at the book in question. Folklore was good and all, but he needed something more...

Indepth.

He shrugged.

"You can use it," He commented. "It talks a lot about folk tales and history, if that's what you're looking for."

Normally, he would be extremely interested-- but the tight scrawl of handwitten notes and calculations in a pocket sized notebook next to him suggested that this wasn't his current research goal.

[cryptograms]

"It's exactly what I'm looking for." And since permission has been given, Ford scoops up the book without a shred of hesitation.

He notices the array of books Perell has spread in front of him, though, and notices that they all appear to be about blood magic. Not an unusual subject in and of itself, but for him to let go of the folklore-focused book so easily...

"Is there something in particular you're researching?"

B

[frogfear]

Not unlike Perell, Willow spends a fair amount of time in the Archives looking into the deeper mysteries of Trench. Since November, though, it's been more geared towards solving the problem of her lack of magic. She is trying to pull a book free from a shelf that is just barely within reach not far from Perell's corner.

She finally manages to wiggle it far enough from between two others that she can grab it properly, only to promptly lose her grip on it and have it drop right onto Perell's head.

"Oh! Sorry!" She winces sympathetically. That was a completely unintentional book assault. It takes her a beat to recognize him as the man she and Puck helped to shore from the frozen ocean.

"Oh, hey! It's you! Are you okay?"

[frogiturgy]

"--ack!"

There was no hiding the startled yelp, nor the wide-eyed look of surprise that Perell cast on the young woman, which slowly shifted to bemusement at her commentary. Finally recognition dawned after a moment too long-- but, that was Perell's own fault.

Accidentally squidding himself for an extra month probably did that.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's-- it's you."

Rubbing at his head, he knelt down to retrieve the fallen book.

"I... I guess things have been fine," He added. "I found my friends. That's the important part for all of us, right?"

Event

[frogiturgy]

A-- Snake Den

Parties carried with them the inherent promise of excitement and an excuse to have fun-- and Perell was not immune to such whimsy. In no time at all he had donned the threads that Madame Generosity had left with his robes and budding hat collection, and for a short while he was proud to prance around the ball room in his duds while he explored everything on display.

Until he realized that parties were not a good idea when there was no possibility of escape and exhaustion was a new friend that you were trying to shake.

Skirting the edges of the ballroom with his hat brim pulled so low that only the lower rims of his round glasses and his fake moustache were visible, Perell struggled to not be perceived. Even amid the decorations, fake plants, and the curtains, the truth was obvious to everyone but him:

His efforts were in vain.

B-- Unsnakely

It didn't take a genius (or a Wizard) to know that snowmelt in the midst of Winter was generally a bad sign. Such details usually suggested that powerful magic was at hand.

Or, at the very least, something with the capability of melting large amounts of snow in a short period of time.

Perell, hesitant to track the beast but curious for his own reasons, was writing down his notes while enjoying a steaming cup of coffee at one of the shops in town, his cramped and sloppy handwriting quickly crossing the pages while his glasses slowly fogged with the steam from his cup. He didn't say much on the matter-- but the tension in his shoulders was obvious to anyone who knew him even a little.

This 'Unsnakely' sent chills down his spine.

C-- Wildcard!

(Don't see a prompt? Make one up! HMU at woodrift for plotting!)

Event - B

[subject_013]

A paper napkin might intrude into Perell's field of vision and notetaking. "It's likely bdifficult to read or write when your lenses have fogged up," a somewhat throaty baritone voice with a patrician accent says. And if Perell looks up, he may spy a tall blond gentleman in black who probably knows a thing or two about ones lenses fogging... given how he's wearing dark glasses indoors.

Omg I'm so sorry for not getting back to this. Those winter bugs are intense!

[frogiturgy]

Perell did look up-- staring blankly at the stranger above his round lenses for a moment with the apparent confusion of an academic who had been disturbed in the middle of a project.

"Uh... yeah." Perell said when his thoughts caught up to reality. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I guess I got so into this book that I didn't notice."

That book being 'A Sleeper's Primer of Bloodcrafting'-- clearly a dated tome, but one that was well worn from years of studious types facing a similar plight. Perell briskly accepted the napkin and started buffing the lenses with a gentle hand. He had no idea where he would get a replacement if something happened, and didn't relish the prospect of damaging them.

"Do you do this kinda thing often? The... saving strangers from fogged glasses thing?"

A

[shemara]

She hadn't been sure she would want to go, but people had been talking and it had sounded interesting. Something had been pushing her, encouraging her to go out more and smile and talk to people even more than she usually does. Mara is often friendly, but it's not often that she's outgoing. And so she went in the clothing provided by Madame Generosity and she couldn't help but mingle and navigate and say hi to many people. She'd even tried some of the food, only to find the pies making her feel very nostalgic for Etheria...for Madame Razz.

But someone seeing she tried the pie seemed to think she would like to try more pie and was being a bit pushy about it. So Mara looks around for anyone else she can shove this pie onto and get it out of her hands. A man slinking along the edge of the room with his hat tucked down low? Perfect!

"Hello, would you like some of this? Those people are just too kind and I couldn't possibly eat all of this pie."

I am so sorry. I got a bug and lost my tag mojo for half the month.

[frogiturgy]

There was a certain something somewhat mortifying about being perceived that Perell had not anticipated-- and he unconsciously started when the woman approached and offered pie without prompt. His gut impulse was to deny it, but right at that instant his stomach decided it was high time to growl.

Welp.

Perell chuckled, chagrinned.

"I guess I do!"

He said, with cheer that seemed a little forced. Replacing his hat, he accepted the offered pie with an awkward smile.

"Thanks. The servers at this thing are very pushy. I don't think I've eaten so much breaded shrimp fried in truffle oil in one night!"

All that was missing was the flight of sauces...

Closed Threads

[frogiturgy]

For Tuck, Vyng, and Billie (and, let's face it, whomever else gets dragged in)

[frogiturgy]

There is a Wizard in the foyer at 2 am.

Normally this would not seem to be a terrible issue, because sleep was for the defeated and the dead when there is an imbalanced world full of wrongs that had to be righted. But, this Wizard was not supposed to be here.

Perell, to his credit, was at least quiet. He stood staring at the ornate portrait done in oil paint that was hung in view of the door, a particular look of bitter nostalgia drawing his lips into a line while he waited for the fog to clear from his saltwater smeared glasses. He was at least dressed warmly-- in a thick sweater knit in a multitude of stripes that tried and failed to be colorful that was offset by the obnoxiously vibrant plaid of his flannel pants, with a furred hat that mercifully covered his ears as well, and a pair of thick socks that he wore underneath his ridiculous crocs. Somewhere along the line he had gotten some frog charms to stick into the air holes in the rubbery material-- and he wore them unironically.

It was comfy, and he was just glad to have a hat again.

Next to him, in the silence and darkness, floated a weird little Koi who didn't look like it belonged in the physical plane at all. Perell sipped at the hot drink he had acquired-- coffee, a rarity in the northern climes of Trench, or so he had heard-- and silently shook his head. Truly, not even another reality could spare him from the gloating smile of Morris Wadge.

At least they had the forever tent, and Perell was content enough to just collapse on the sofa and sleep-- should no one find him, first.

[wapples]

There's a light on in Michael's kitchen, and the sound of someone rattling around in the cupboards. It's 2 am and Billie is hungry. So he's ditched sleeping in his drawer to get himself some late night snacks.

He wanders back through with an armload of raw potatoes and his dog following behind him, carrying a potato of her own. He walks straight past Perell on the sofa, doesn't realize he's actually asleep and says very innocently, "Hi Perell. I wasn't doing anything."

He carries on towards his drawer for another couple seconds, and suddenly stops. The potatoes drop and roll across the floor as realization hits.

"Perell?!"

Quick tag in to get this moving.

[frogiturgy]

Sleep had taken Perell quickly, and he hadn't even bothered looking for a pillow or blanket before passing out. This was indeed Perell, safe and comfortable if somewhat thinner from when they had last seen each other in Crystal Bay.

Weeks spent at sea, and later with his body taken over by an entity that wasn't even human, had not done him any favors.

His coffee cup sat on the table growing cold while he snored-- and he abruptly snorted when he was startled awake. Nearly tumbling off of the sofa, he scrambled to pull himself upright.

His glasses still sat askew while he peered at the boy in disbelief.

"Billie?"

His voice was still muffled from sleep, but the smile that quickly spread on his face made his sentiments clear enough. He had thought his last encounter with Billie had been a dream--

He was glad that it wasn't.