THE FRACTURED WORLD: ARRIVAL

[modormenace]

 

A

rrival for some goes all but unnoticed. It's a sudden shiver, the sensation of being watched... and then nothing at all. Life continues serenely as it always has. The only indication of any change comes with sleep, wrapped in dreams: vague and distant echo imagery of another life, melting away in the morning.

 

F

or others, arrival is a sharp jolt. In the space of a single blink, they find themselves in an unfamiliar world, surrounded by the trappings of a life they have not lived. They are replacements, spirits taking possession of bodies belonging to people very much like themselves...

 

A

nd for the rest, arrival is a procedure. Routine. Those ported in to the Fractured World wake hazily in the comfortably dim light of the Porter room, laid out on an exam table. Their wounds, if they remember having any, have been healed— and even those who remember their own deaths find themselves miraculously restored. As they regain consciousness, an automatic audio-visual presentation is triggered. Regardless of their backgrounds or physiology, all imPorts 'see' and 'hear' this message as if in their own language:

"Greetings, imPort."

The voice is calm and gently authoritative, almost certainly selected by committee.

"On behalf of the Synod and all imPorts it represents, we welcome you to the planet Earth."

A decidedly non-humanoid robotic arm holds out a palm-sized device and rather insistently demands the new arrival take it. This is the imPort's comm, used for accessing the Porter's database of information, as well as the communications Network— though it won't receive communications from outside the Porter building until carried through one of the many Gates set up in a long, crescent-shaped array on the far side of the room.

As each Gate is approached, information about the faction it leads to flashes up on the comm device's screen. Which will you choose?

THE WHITE TOWER SANCTUM AURORAE KRAKOA HOUSE OF M EMPIRE OF LIGHT EQUALITY BEFORE LAW THE TWIN CITIES OLIN VALE EDEN SEEKERS OF THE NEW DAWN NORTHWESTERN IMPERIUM GREEN PIECE MAD BURNISH LUMINARY

Comments

THE PORTER BUILDING

[modormenace]

[New Arrivals: please let us know which of the 14 factions your character chose on arrival through the Porter here!]

Re: THE PORTER BUILDING

[self_immolate]

Dabi has arrived in the Twin Cities for now!

[deadwenwalking]

Wen Ning is with the House of M!

[patchricide]

Princess Allura is off to the Mad Burnish!

[takomaki]

Tamaki has chosen EBL.

THE WHITE TOWER

[modormenace]

 

ARRIVAL

Welcome to The White Tower.

Right out of the Gate, you step out under a sky that is brilliant, whether in the night fraught with neon-signing unmanned machines, or the humid glare of daylight. You're on top of a sixty foot tower; just low enough that you can see hundreds of people milling in the stone plaza and pristine parks below. Just as you're thinking this is rather exposed, a bird thunks into an invisible forcefield overhead, sending a brief, scintillating shimmer through a dome-shaped shield.

Applause tinkles from the distance below. Native residents looking up. You realize there are screens as tall as buildings down there, some marqueeing announcements that a new ImPort has arrived, others showing off a digital avatar that bears some fleeting resemblance to you, animated into stepping out. Drones float a dozen feet from you; none seem to be focusing their cameras on you, but instead ushering nearer a row of five servile attendants.

They are all dressed in mandarin-collared uniforms, redder than blood. But that aside, they have different looks; some in elaborate tattoos and piercings, others unmistakably inorganic in their flesh and being. The one in the lead is characterized by elfin, pointed ears and golden eyes.

"Hello. We've been waiting for you.

"I'm to offer you a beverage," a gesture, and a hoverbot serves up three bottles of chilled, sparkling liquid and just as many glasses, "and take you to your introductory suite in the Western citadel unless you'd prefer to take a city tour, or attend the gala tonight. In which case, I'll need to take you to the tailor. We will need to begin honing your public image as soon as possible. You have a duty to the people of this world, and it to you."

WELCOME SPEECH

You made it to the gala, or you're hearing it recorded. Either way, the prelude is the melodic dingdingding of silverware on glass.

"Welcome, residents of the White Tower, old and new."

Kavinsky looks young, but he has that bombastic, shiny self-confidence that characterizes so many ImPorts here, wearing AR glasses and a deep, iridescent suit. "You're here because you wield great power. You're here because you've accepted great responsibility. The White Tower was founded on the principle that we must lift up this world and leave it better than we found it. For ten years, we've been the first line of defense against cosmic interference, and terrestrial forces that seek to exploit the Porter-- and us-- for their own gain. The native people look at us and see heroes.

"But it takes more than a cape to justify that title. Each of us has and will continue to innovate, inspire, and protect this city and the world, just like the ImPorts who sacrificed themselves ten years ago to protect the Porter. And now, a moment of silence for those who fell during the Cataclysm of Cape Canaveral." Mind you don't roll your eyes too obviously at this revisionist history. Stay silent. It's easy. And in a moment, it's over.

"Here's to you. Here's to all of us."

INAUGURAL GALA

Fireworks and laser shows. Half the waitstaff are androids, judging by their chrome faces full of subtle, smiling seams. Alcohol and tea in equal bounty; an international buffet, serving everything from greasy burgers to Creole nectarines. Merpeople lounging flirtatiously in rimless glass aquariums; in contrast, a swimming pool of crystal clear, breathable perfluorochemistry, and decorated with an bioluminescent coral reef of unknowable origin. Peacocks and curiously docile foxes wander the grounds, both breeds in striking white.

It's a good thing you arrived in Synod season: the White Tower goes all out. The clothes-- costume-- you're wearing is probably worth more its weight in gold.

You're the new kid on the block. Inevitably the press mob you with questions:

What did you do back home?

Have you saved humans before?

Are you single?

How much do you love the Tower?

But perhaps someone will come to your rescue, a plate or a drink in hand, forcing the media back to a respectful berth. Don't worry. You'll learn how to do it too. You're just new.

NETWORK

For all that there are murmurs of criticism, fascism, oppression, the White Tower is proud to offer a free and open access network. There are even channels specifically for social change.

ImPort moderated, of course.

See, it's not hard to color between the lines; there's all kinds of metaphorical line art here, even a way to complain, to speak to a future brighter than the past, without starting too much unrest too soon. But if you find yourself speaking out a little too passionately, using just the wrong buzzword, inciting more chaos than the system is designed to market or suppress, you will find yourself blocked, and network administrators ignoring your calls.

 

rey palpatine - star wars

[reydacted]

I. Gala - Open to All

[ Rey's dress is almost ephemeral, dreamlike the way it floats around her. She steadily stays by her husband's side, clapping and smiling genuinely and right on cue through the introductory speeches and pleasantly exchanging greetings with the VIPs.

Rey is still nothing if not independent, though, and she has no problem excusing herself to some secluded dark corner of the party. Her brow knots together as she looks at her comm.

Keen senses keep her aware, despite whatever is on her phone. She immediately puts back on the mask of a diplomat, joking. ]

Don't tell me you also have a crisis.

II. Gala - Newcomers only

[ Oh the press is such a nightmare, and what's a greater rescue than one from the First Lady herself? ]

I think that's quite enough.[ Rey steps in, offering a gentle hand on the newcomer's arm and offering a practiced smile to the press. What a lovely photo op. She poses for just a moment and then turns back to the new arrival. ] Let's get you a drink.

III. Gala - Established CR/White Tower Leadership

The Merpeople are a nice touch. Your idea?

[ This comment is as sardonic as it needs to be for the intended recipient. ]

IV. Wildcard

[ Something else? Feel Free to run into Rey on the grounds and hit me with a starter. Gossiping about another faction is a good way to get her to dip into a conversation that she overhears. Otherwise you can also hit me up via PM or private plurk colster ]

TONY STARK ⧓

[houseparty]

I. Gala - OTA

( In a suit of unrelieved black, decorated to evoke the careful pleating of his wife's ethereal, diaphanous dress, High Chancellor Stark takes the time to shake the usual hands, to grin broadly through Kavinsky's speech with clear pride and approval.

Left to his own devices while Rey tends to one matter or another, anyone wishing to approach will have an easy time of it- in theory. For established allies and White Tower Leadership, they'll be able to stop by the High Chancellor without issue.

For those unknown or new to the faction, sharp eyes and senses might notice a subtle glance of synthetic eyes, the faint shiver of alertness to the nearest set of chrome-faced attendants, poised and ready, before they go right back to serving, offering crudités and pouring more tea under the rainbow burst of fireworks.

Stark tips his champagne glass at the one joining him, either way, and wryly offers before anything else: )

Too much, or not enough?

II. Gala - New arrivals only

( As the eager questions of the press reach a sudden, fevered pitch, overwhelming even to the well-seasoned, the High Chancellor might very well be the one coming to your rescue, new imPort. )

C'mon, fellas, give them room to breathe. ( The cheerful admonition is unnecessary- members of the press ebb away like an indrawn breath, quieting in equal measure with deference. A few might even appear...openly adoring? Smile now, one, two, before he turns with practiced ease to guide the newcomer away, leaving the reporters to turn and pounce on another unsuspecting target. ) All right? Need some air?

III. Gala - Wildcard

( Stark will mingle with attendees throughout the evening, so please feel free to hit him up with something of your own! PP me at backagain or PM me here if you'd like to hash anything out for it! )

Stephen Strange ۞ MCU

[timestones]

۞ Gala
[Whatever differences Stephen has with what White Tower has become over the last ten years (differences that by now are extensive and deeply entrenched into both hairline fractures and full dislocations), this is the sort of contexts where the Sorcerer Supreme is almost guaranteed to make an appearance.

And sure enough, while it's unclear when he arrives exactly--before, during or after Joseph Kavinsky's well-produced welcome speech--Stephen is very much present, dressed in an outfit that straddles across the two key aspects of his life with one end becoming a needle pointed memory while the other expands out widely and much further.

Even when he put on a penguin suit and mingled at medical fundraisers was arguably part of his surgical celebrity life, Stephen never found socialising and hobnobbing something he took to with particular ease of finesse. Now he's arguably even worse and he doesn't even try and play for the cameras or entertains the idea of giving anything even remotely like speeches. He's not harsh in his dismissals though, just direct and swift in his refusal to engage, creating an exit for himself in order to side-step the attention as much as humanly possible.

At least, that's how he is with the press... ]

۞ Gala - New Arrivals
[The new arrivals are arguably the biggest reason he's there.

It would be hard to call Stephen Strange the neutering sort, however almost without fail he is there to greet new arrivals, or slide himself between the aggressive attention being directed toward the new kid on the block.]

You're acting it's like you've never seen an imPort before. How about you go harass an MP instead, give them something to do.

[Having dispersed the crowd around the new arrival, Stephen looks their way with a quirked eyebrow.]

Unless you were happy to lap up the attention, that is. [He jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the press cluster heading away.] 'cause I can call them back, if you'd prefer.

۞ Gala - White City Citizens
[Hardly the social butterfly, Stephen generally lingers at the periphery of the event, the stem of a champagne flute caught between his gloved fingers that he spins idly as he nurses the drink, though when he feels someone draw near he speaks without much hesitation--]

Having yourself a grand old time?

[Depending on who it is depends on the delivery.

Someone obviously a close defender of High Chancellor Stark's approach? It's very likely you and Stephen have clashed at some point, directly or indirectly. In this cast, he'll probably sound a little cool without being overtly cutting or snide and it's a coin-toss about whether he'll look directly at you immediately depending on how strongly attached to the current Parliament you are. He will eventually flick a glance over though all the same, though he probably won't turn his head.

Someone he gets along with one way or another? It'll be marginally more welcoming, more dry humoured and tongue-in-cheek and there may even be the impression of a little smile. You may even get this version if you're pro-current Parliament but have been trying to play peacekeeper and find a compromise for the fractured membership. His head will likely turn with the eyecontact too, followed by the rest of his body to provide his full attention.]

۞ Wildcard
[Throw a custom greeting or scene at him! Or hit me up for plotting at kralkatorrik ]

Thor Odinson | OTA

[ifhebeworthy]

GALA

[ thor plucks the offered glass from the servant delicately, looking far more fragile in his giant hands. he regards the sparkling liquid curiously before he downs the fluted beverage in one mighty sip and then gently it, empty, back upon the tray. as tony, one of the few who actually knew him well, might expect, thor politely declined a tailored suit. politely in a way that, in his deep voice and beneath his even stare, left little room for discussion.

if a 6'6" 640 lb viking god wasn't enough to stand out in the midst of the white tower's posh party, that he was dressed in a sleeveless blue shirt, open deep at the neck, chainmail, and worn cloth working pants certainly assured that much. on the plus side, he was polite enough to leave his war axe, jarnbjorn, at home, and he smelled wonderful. manners, after all, were very important to humans. ]

WILDCARD

[ just a simple opener. if the above doesn't jam with you or you wanna do a specific thing, lmk at BATGUY ]

Midnighter | OTA

[heliophilic]

Gala
[Midnighter hated these events. As much as he hated anything these days. As one day grew to the next, he was finding it harder and harder to feel almost anything. Henry Bendix would be proud to see his creation reverting back to its factory settings.

The leather cowl on his head clashes with the finery of the black tuxedo he's wearing beneath it (not his choice), but he frankly doesn't care. It should be enough that he's here in the monkey suit in the first place.

As he passes through the crowd, the computer in his brain projects little x's onto each of the partygoers, feeding Midnighter all the ways he could best kill them. He used to be able to silence that, once upon a time. Divert it. But now he doesn't care.

It's what he does best, after all, and those in the White Tower used for their talents.

The fight computer whispers something into Midnighter's ear and he steps back just in time to get out of the way of someone new, the red x in his mind's eye obscuring their face. He frowns; whoever it was was trying to get his attention.]

Did you say something?


Gala - newcomers
[Midnighter doesn't necessarily have to do anything to get the reporters to back off--he merely has to look at them. The sight of a man in a cowl and a suit may seem odd, but they know the cowl well enough by now to give the man that wears it--and anyone in his vicinity--a wide berth.

Reporters successfully herded, he turns to the newcomer.]

You should go inside.


Wildcard
[I am open to darn near anything! Feel free to come up with a custom starter, or hit me up at redconfession or Kaitie#0107 to plot some things out!]

SANCTUM AURORAE

[nightmarist]

ARRIVAL

A priestess and a knight are waiting to greet you the moment you step through the Gate. Its light is so bright that it's impossible to see what lies beyond them, hidden in the pitch darkness, but the air is frigid, damp and earthy. The scuff of your shoe against the stone floor echoes all around. It must be a cave.

"Welcome to the Sanctum," the priestess intones without warmth. The knight beside her says nothing. Welcoming you is clearly not his purpose. She continues, "You must be here for the Greywaren." It isn't a question. Everyone who arrives at the Sanctum Aurorae is here for the Greywaren, in one sense or another.

She explains nothing further, turning to lead the way out of the Gate's chamber. As she walks, tiny orbs of light rise up out of the obsidian rocks, miniature suns floating lazily in the air, and it becomes apparent that the cave is enormous. And treacherous. The path is a precarious one, dropping off sharply on either side to invisible depths. Anyone fumbling through it without a guide would almost certainly plunge to their death.

After countless twists and turns through the labyrinth, the three of you finally emerge into a narrow hall. Although the walls soar as high as the cave's, these are smooth concrete, oppressive in design yet vibrating with an energy that's somehow soothing. Reassuring. There's a sound coming from them, a droning hum like a lullaby.

You're not alone here. There are a handful of others lingering in this corridor. It's easy to tell the newcomers apart from the disciples, who are dressed in heavy and strange garments of white and red and black and gold.

"Wait here," the priestess tells you. "He will call you when it's time."

INDUCTION

The call is not a verbal one. All at once, the head of every person in the hall feels compelled to turn in a single direction, moved by an unspoken command. In unison, you file silently down the corridor. The humming of the walls grows louder and louder, until it becomes unclear whether the sound is coming from the walls at all. The vibration feels internal, somehow.

The assembled newcomers and disciples spill into an expansive throne room, where a figure is waiting on the mezzanine, cloaked in ceremonial attire. As you all take your places, the humming in your head goes abruptly quiet. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren rises smoothly from his seat on the throne to address you:

"There is one crime in my Sanctum."

Immediately, a thrill of nervous tension runs through the assembled crowd— but Kylo lifts a hand to calm it. He hasn't gathered his people here to condemn any of them, curious as he might be about the spike of fear.

"One... sin," he continues, dark gaze sweeping the cavernous chamber. His attention is a heavy, tangible weight as it settles on each of the faithful in turn, then slides to the newly arrived. "Betrayal," he intones. "Treachery. Faithlessness... but not faithlessness to me."

Kylo lets the silence stretch out as his focus draws in on its target: a member of his audience struggling with uncertainty. "To yourselves."

"I see you. Exactly as you are. And I welcome you: every part of you. Everything you've done. Everything you want. There is a place for everything you are and ever could be here—" the Supreme Leader pauses, his offered covenant a challenge.

"If you choose it."

BLESSING

Everyone is talking about the Greywaren. There's a fondness in their voices when they say the word that suggests they feel more than awe for him. Whoever he is, they adore him. And they're excited for you, too, that you finally get to meet him. To experience him. To have made it this far, you must have been judged worthy, because this is the rarest opportunity in the world.

Following the induction ceremony, there are only a few of you waiting in the antechamber of the temple. When the door opens to allow the previous supplicant to exit, the gap isn't wide enough to give you a glimpse inside. All you can tell is that the last one is crying as they shuffle past you, hands against their mouth to stifle their sobs.

"It's your turn," someone whispers to you, seemingly unconcerned by the weeper as they giddily wave you inside.

The shrine is small. Intimate. Only about a dozen people would be able to gather here comfortably, but for now it's only you. And him. It's dark in here, illuminated only by the backlight spilling in through a cross-shaped gap in the far wall, and the details of his form are lost to the shadows.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?" he asks you, with a drawl as languid as his posture.

As you get closer, it doesn't become any easier to understand what you're looking at. The Greywaren doesn't seem to have a face. Or rather, the way the light plays across his mask makes his features impossible to parse. He's dressed in so many layers of lavish robes that his body looks like it's melting into the altar, atop which he's sitting akimbo.

"So," he begins, "why are you here?"

NETWORK

The network of the Sanctum Aurorae is, in practice, a closed one. There is no ability for any member to send a private message. Every interaction can be intercepted and interrupted by anyone else in the cult, and you can rest assured that every word is being scrutinized.

While it's possible to use the network to contact the outside world, it would be highly suspicious of you to do so. After all, anything you need is in the Sanctum, provided by the grace of the Greywaren. You turned your back on everything else when you decided to take refuge here, so why would you communicate with the world you left behind? If you still insist on reaching out, everyone else will be watching. And they'll start wondering about you...

Xue Yang | The Untamed | OTA

[xue_yang]

When Xue Yang woke up this morning he knew something was strange. He was in his body but this is not the place he had fallen asleep. His body seemed to move on his own as if he knew he had to be somewhere but he didn't know why. And so he got ready and headed to the faction that apparently he called home. At first he was confused but then he slowly started to become amused by the whole proceeding. He didn't really care of follow the whole worshiping thing. He mostly seemed to want to enjoy the promise that was told to him upon his arrival.

And as he stepped into the room with that being that everyone seemed to enamored with, he smirked. Walking up to him and leaning in as if studying the strange attire.

"I want what I was promised. Everything. I was told I could do anything, be anything, and get anything I wanted. So show me just how you are going to do all of that."

Xue Yang isn't all that impressed with all the cult stuff and the weirdness. But if he can get away with doing whatever he wants, as long as he agrees to be loyal to this place then so be it. It wouldn't be his first time he pledged his loyalty to something in order to be able to do whatever he wanted.

They said it didn't matter who he was or what he had done. But they might change their mind after meeting him.

KRAKOA

[goldtoxicity]

ARRIVAL.

You step out of the Gate and into a dream. The walls of the porter building are transparent. A notification goes off the moment the porter fires off and you're greeted

You're greeted with enthusiasm. Children bring you flowers and gifts, teenagers hold welcome banners, and a handful of adults smile with the barest hint of wariness in their gaze... but you're here now. You're one of them, as far as most people are concerned - although you may notice that there appear to be birds and other wildlife monitoring you with a critical eye. These animals report to the Council of Five

If paradise exists this is surely it. To your right you see a seemingly infinite stretch of ocean. Blue waves lap gently against white sand shores.

Almost everyone on the island is an ImPort. Those who aren't are spouses, adoptive children, or adoptive parents. No native of this world is here unless they have a direct connection to an ImPort.

You're immediately offered everything Krakoa has to give. Counselling services for ImPorts who come from troubled worlds or are just having trouble adapting to their new reality, classes to learn to control your powers and to keep up with your education, and housing and care services. You get the sense that the people here love each other deeply and will love you just as much once you become one of them.

THE OATH.

Blessedly, there's no trial to join Krakoa. The Council greets you with smiles and handshakes, although you may be asked some questions and there's a quiet implication that should you cause trouble or pose a threat those friendly smiles will disappear and you'll see just how dangerous things can really be.

There is an oath to swear. You stand in front of the Council of Five and lay your hand across a biometric scanner that reads your vital signs.

“I swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Krakoa. I will faithfully observe the laws of Krakoa. I will uphold the values upon which Krakoa was established - to protect and honor my fellow citizens, to live with honor and grace, and to build a better tomorrow for all those who come after."

The machine records your heartrate, your breathing, everything that could possibly indicate a lie... but you may notice some members are watching you closer than others. You know if you're found wanting you're not going to be allowed to walk free for much longer. But you're honest, aren't you? Or at least really good at hiding.

One by one the council approaches you and take your hand in theirs. They greet you with warm smiles and enthusiasm.

"I heard a rumor," Allison Hargreeves says as you take her hand, "that you won't betray us."

NETWORK.

Communication for adults on Krakoa is largely open and unmonitored by the council. They don't care what you're doing online, just so long as it isn't potentially a threat to their way of life. However, as they are still allied with the White Tower, one can expect eyes everywhere. though conversations with other factions are secretly recorded and anything potentially treasonous is flagged.

Younger members will find they can't look up anything inappropriate.

There is an open forum for all young ImPorts to speak on. They're encouraged to find friends, to talk about their problems, to comfort each other when they're homesick.

MISBEHAVING.

If you go too far out of line - pick a fight, cause some havoc, wanton public destruction - you're going in Rimuru's timeout bubble. Maybe you decided to cause some property damage, maybe you got too rowdy at the club - but one way or another, you're in time out. Make friends with your fellow detentionaires!

Allison Hargreeves ⧓ Council of Five

[numberthree]

post-oath.

Allison stays back with the Council while the general greetings and welcome start, but eventually, even they will blend into the crowd, into the light hearted frivolity that always comes with adding another person to their ranks. Another person free of the strife and the fighting, who will hopefully find the peace and sanctuary they are seeking in this place they’ve worked so hard to build.

She doesn't drift automatically to her family, but she does account for them every time her gaze sweeps the crowd. A necessity never lost from childhood, ever kept in all of them being swept into this world. If her gaze lingers on one of them in specific, until that head turns her way, even half the crowd away, and a corner of her mouth lifts, marginally, like she’s been caught out not being subtle, maybe that’s not surprising to anyone either.

There are a few words to exchange with the four people left standing next to her, the way there always are. Because they are always a little apart, a little adrift. Because of who they are. Because of what they have to do. The kinds of decision they have to make for the whole of this happily, beginning to party, congregation of faces.

But at least moments like this, it’s utterly worth it.
The long, grueling hours and hard talks. Even harder compromises.
Because the whole scene just fills her heart with such pride to see.

around the island.

While Allison is often busy with Council Meetings and Council Business she can, also, regularly be around Krakoa itself.

Sometimes she drops in to help with hand-to-hand & self-defense classes. She doesn’t go in for the night parties much, but she can occasionally found on the edges watching everyone on the night Council Meetings run late. She, also, likes walking along the emptier parts of the beach and usually, she can be found there, de-stressing from especially the bad days, before going home.

While Allison is about Council Business across Krakoa she’s usually alone, but in her free time, before dusk falls, she can just as often be found with her adopted-daughter in tow, as well. Four-years-old and bright-eyed, Claire is the youngest person on the Krakoa, as she has been for the last four years, and she generally loves everything and everyone she runs into. Sometimes literally. Sorry about that. Four has been a very exuberant age for her.

wildcard.

[ I’m wide open, let’s do things, planned or unplanned. Have ideas? Toss them to me at wanderlustlover ]

Faction: HOUSE OF M

[divaricate]

ARRIVING

After you find yourself stepping out of the Gate that leads to the island where the House of M faction is based, you'll likely notice that the air is warm, but with a bit of a breeze coming off the ocean that makes it smell like sand, heat, sea, and salt. Although it looks like a vacation, you have some work to do. The buildings are nice looking, but practical for their purposes, and some of them even have an elaborate flair to their exterior. Mostly just to be a little flashy with the magic; there's a fountain that instead of water, shoots out harmless magical sparks that are multicolored. At that point, members of the faction greet the new arrival in various ways. Some offer a handshake and a smile and an introduction, others just nod in acknowledgement, but either way, the introductions aren't unfriendly. As with the aesthetics of the place, the introductions too are practical; they get to the point.

The welcoming speech that you have to sit (or stand — you do you) through isn't long — ten minutes at best. A couple of those first minutes are dedicated to the short version of its origins; a place where magic and magically skilled imPorts could have the respect they felt they were due. This is their place. Most of the rest of the minutes talk about the strength of this place: how they rely more on protective wards and magic that can do heavy damage, rather than bombs and guns. Wounds and sickness are treated with healing magic because who has time to sit in an emergency room or doctor's office for hours? Agriculture, transportation, and other aspects of daily life are boosted by magic. And then, finally, about how various forms of magic should be working together, and how the network here works.

Also, this island has a lot of peacocks for some reason (and are the unofficial mascot of the faction). So, don't be too weirded out if you see a bunch of them just wandering around like they own the place. It's fine. They don't bite (usually). Give them snacks or a gentle pet if you like.

COMMUNICATION (NETWORK)

Speaking (ha) of the network, the network is provided by this faction's government, communication is allowed between almost any factions (just don't be caught being friends with the resistance) — and while this faction doesn't publicly disclose if communications are monitored, they are, technically. They just won't care what you say unless it's illegal or against their causes.

The short version is: You have nothing to worry about if you have nothing to hide.

A PARTY (WELCOMING)

New members are a cause for celebration, no? Of course they are. Since this place has a lot of magic to celebrate and show off, the welcome "ritual" is less of a ritual and instead more like a gala than anything. Expensive snacks and drinks, magically provided elegant clothing (make your own if you can; show off your magic skills!). Table decorations are smaller versions of things like the fountain with magic sparks; there are flowers that glow, things that look like little galaxies swirling as a centerpiece, ice sculptures that don't melt and also change color.

There's plenty of room to dance too, with music that leans more classical/instrumental than not. Have fun! And yes, a peacock will probably come up to you at some point, sorry.

WILDCARD

If there's something else you'd like to do - go for it. People who find themselves causing too much trouble, at first, will find themselves randomly teleported short distances across the island for several moments, before they either get too dizzy or disoriented, and either give up or need a nap to get their bearings again.

Wei Wuxian | The Untamed | OTA

[chenqing_player]

Welcoming

Wei Wuxian has been with the House of M for a few years now and so he doesn't need to attend the welcoming speech. But he often goes just to hang towards the back and watch the new arrivals. Always wanting to make sure he knows what kind of power is showing up in the world now and trying to decide who might be useful in the fight against those in charge. Although a member of this faction, Wei Wuxian has been working for the resistance for almost as long.

And so he watches, waiting to see if any of the new arrivals might be able bodied and willing to cooperate with the ideals of the resistance. He's learned over the years what to look for and his instincts are what make him a top assassin.

Party

Wei Wuxian doesn't care for parties, but he does enjoy alcohol. And so anytime one of the welcoming parties happens, he can be found near the drink table, helping himself to as many as he can possible down in the hours that he feels like being there. He doesn't like to dance and although his powers do focus around music, he shows no interest in joining in.

So he spends the evening mostly a lone, but he won't turn away anyone that decides to come and start up a conversation. Even more so when he's had several drinks under his belt.

Wildcard

Wei Wuxian is an assassin. Of course those at the House of M don't know it. But there are many nights when a secret mission will come in and he will sneak his way out of the faction to go and take care of it.

Tonight is one of those nights. He always wears black so that it is easier to just blend in and escape when he needs to. And so he is like a ghost as he moves along the far edges of town and heads towards one of the exits. If anyone appears in his path he ducks into the nearest alley or hides away behind a column. But mostly the streets are empty at this time of night.

As he nears the exit he hears something behind him and spins around to see. Seemingly unarmed but his hand goes immediately to the sword hidden beneath his robes.

✯ Empire of Light

[faithfulson]

✯ ARRIVAL
Stepping out of the portal in this place is like stepping into a dream, where reality and fantasy got smashed together into something almost harmonious. Some may recognize where they've ended up -- after all, that pointless castle in the middle of Central Park sticks out like a sore thumb in any reality, it seems, never mind how much it looks like its been put to practical use here.

There's someone waiting as soon as people arrive through the Porter, almost as if they were expected. The man there has a youthful face, but tired lines around his eyes and mouth make it look like he's much older than he really is. He's dressed simply, almost like he could be just anyone.

"Welcome," he says warmly, like he's known you your whole life, "though I know you are not here by choice, it is my hope that you will find this place welcoming and comfortable. This small Empire is a haven, a place for people unwilling to dive into the conflicts of this world to call home and relax. As long as you follow the laws here and do no harm to others, you will always be welcome here."

After the little speech, the new arrivals are led away to a small, private bathing area to rest and clean up while their clothes are laundered or repaired, if need be. The native who guides them adamantly fills the arrivals in on the state of the world, and reiterates that the Empire of Light is a s̵̠̘̟̒ã̸̞̤̈́f̵̺͂e̶̪̝̿͗͘ ̷̫͍̊̐͜͠p̸͖͊̍͝ľ̵̙̣͛̇ȃ̵̦̪͠c̸̜͑̽e̷̼̘͋͆͜. It... may seem a little odd, but this is a new world, after all...

✯ WELCOME
Once new arrivals are cleaned up and ready, they're taken out to the main square of the city that once stood here before everything fell apart. Those from a similar background would recognize it as Times Square, cleaned up in a way it has never been, even when it was new. Billboards are alight with advertisements of social services and the latest entertainment available. Anything technological seems to have been mated together with nature; billboards are framed by wood, vines are wrapped securely around and feed into traffic lights, ect. Even the phone the native hands out to new arrivals looks more like it's made from tree bark than metal and circuits.

Stands have been set up outside shops all along Times Square, showing off what's available and offering free samples of food and drink. It won't take long for arrivals to realize that currency isn't a thing; most shops deal in favors or even trade for their goods. Both natives and imPorts mingle around freely through the square, and it's clear that there is a close kinship between the two. There's no trial to take, no oath to swear; just a promise of safety as long as you maintain the p̷̥̌e̴̢̬͂̓a̷̛̗͍͒c̸̜̭̗̉̆ē̵̺͛ the Empire enjoys. In fact, the longer the new arrivals stay, the more they may come to realize that this is a s̶̰̿̅̄ạ̸̧̑̎͝f̷̧̀̀ȇ̴ͅ place, and the thought of leaving would be absolutely terrible...

Others may feel that something is o̷̹͝f̶̧̆̓̓f̸̘̳͒͐͝. For a place in the middle of a world where imPorts call themselves superior, it's a little too idealistic. A little too p̵̬̺̓ę̶̞͖͑a̸̼̓͌c̸̹͓̺̿̾͘e̴͑ͅf̵̩̠͆͗u̶͈̣̱̿̒͐l̶̝͋͋̈́. As the new arrivals unaffected by whatever is making others relax and go along with the cheerful atmosphere continue along, they may become aware of eyes, watching them, of an imposing figure keeping a careful eye over everyone attending the welcoming party. The very look of him screams danger, that if they don't go along with this fake peace, that man will be paying them a very direct visit.

Others still may realize there is another watching as well, lurking in the background, but the chances of seeing them depend on just how good their awareness is, and if their powers will let them see that which doesn't wish to be seen.

✯ NETWORK
The network is free and open to all that maintain the communicator they are given on their arrival. There are a number of websites maintained by those in the Empire -- a fiction archive, news sites, social media, ect. -- though access to some of these sites are restricted to younger arrivals.

Calls and texts can be made to anyone in the Empire rather easily. However, anyone wishing to communicate with people part of other factions will experience difficulty. Calls are frequently dropped for no reason, and sometimes text messages don't make it through.

Those that openly speak on the network of how the peace the Empire maintains doesn't seem right will find themselves experiencing difficulty connecting to the network. If they continue, they may get a surprise visit in the middle of the night...

Darin Altway | Empire of Light | OTA

[forgeabettertomorrow]

-Greetings-

[Shortly after the attending leaves you to get yourself sorted, you'll hear a voice from nearby.]

Sorry about all of that. We do our best to make sure everyone's welcome, but if you ask me, the whole speech is a little dry.

Master Skywalker isn't exactly one for a lot of fanfare. I keep telling him we should at least bring out a cake or something. Who doesn't like cake, am I right?

[The man before you is dressed in a pale blue, sleeveless overcoat, which he wears open over a black shirt that clings to his muscular physique. The collar of his coat is popped and over that, he is wearing a dark hooded robe, the hood pulled back to show his deep blue, spiked hair.]

The name's Darin Altway. I know this is all pretty jarring, but relax. I promise you're safe. In fact, maintaining the peace is kinda my thing around here. Can I help you get settled?

-Network-

[Following the welcomes, after everyone is situated, Darin will make an announcement via the Empire of Light network. He clears his throat.]

Attention to all Empire citizens, this is Darin Altway, Keeper of the Peace. It's come to Master Skywalker's attention that there's been a rather large influx of new citizens into the Empire. By his benevolence, I am making this message to reinforce some of the rules here. The Empire is a place that values peace and security over anything else. We do not stand for anything that would disturb the peace and tranquility of others and, especially, those who seek to upset the balance we've painstakingly maintained for so long.

With that said, I'll break it down in terms that I prefer: I hate fighting. We all do. But that doesn't mean we can't or we won't. As Master Skywalker's Keeper of the Peace it's my job to make sure everyone is safe. And I like to think I do a pretty damn impeccable job. So here's the rule for any would-be dissenters or, gods forbid, any of those other resistances trying to stir the pot.

You break the peace, I break you into pieces. Easy enough to remember, right? Let's all get along out there.

[He signs off with an eerily cheerful smile.]

-Big Trouble in Little Empire-

[Darin would be lying if he said he didn't truly want peace. He'd also be lying if he said he'd be totally happy with constant peace and tranquility. After all, that's boring as hell, isn't it? So maybe he looks forward to the occasional resistance attack or uppity dissenter a little too much.]

[He doesn't make an entrance right away. He really wants to see what these newcomers can do. So he'll keep quiet, crouched down on a nearby rooftop, and observe. But with a bit of a sigh (he knows Master Skywalker would get annoyed if he lets the peace be disturbed too long) he decides to make his entrance.]

[He drops and smashes to the ground with an impact far greater than anyone his size should generate. The ground cracks and collapses in as if a meteor just struck, the edges of the impact crater surging with blue alchemical magics and reforming as the robed figure struts out. In a few moments, the crater behind him reforms, just like new, and he's throwing his dark robe aside to stretch his muscular arms.]

Alright alright alright! Let's all just take a quick breather here!

[Citizens of the Empire begin to cheer. Those on the opposite side that seem familiar grimmace in frustration and fear. Some swearing about having wasted too much time, others outright running altogether.]

Now, whoever started this? Let's you and me finish it, yeah?

[And that normally cheerful grin seems to grow sinister all in one fell swoop.]

-Wildcard-

[Got an idea for a thread? Want to do something totally different than the prompts? Bring it on! Hit me up at bitterbearface if you want to hash it out or just comment and I'll roll with anything!]

EBL // Equality Before Law

[facepalmchampion]

[i. WELCOME WAGON]

Maybe you aren't sure what to expect when you step through the Gate that will send you to meet with the leaders of Equality Before Law. The information the Porter room gave you was kind of mixed; on the one hand, this group sounds like they're all about anarchy, everyone just doing whatever the hell they want, freedom and justice and tearing down the oppressive system, but also at the same time they talk about loyalty and law and the responsibilities of every being to take care of others. Maybe you're expecting an underground bunker full of guns and explosives and dudes who look like Rambo chewing on a cigar. Maybe you're expecting something more like Greenpeace, making signs and marching and passing out flyers.

Either way, you're probably not expecting to step through the Gate and into what looks like a pasture. Green grass is soft beneath your feet, a little damp from morning dew; the air is fresh and crisp and smells a little like fall, and in the distance over the rolling fields you can see a red barn and a sprawling farmhouse. A little closer to hand is a cow, wearing a red collar with a bell that tinkles softly as she lifts her head from grazing and gives her ears a shake, looking at you.

//Hi. I'm Bessie. Welcome to The Farm.//

The voice in your head is female, friendly and warm, sounding almost Texan with its soft, syrupy drawl. If you don't interrupt, she'll continue chatting, telling you that the Farm is the current residence of what people here call 'the movement,' known to others outside as Equality Before Law, or EBL. They're a nomadic group, travelling wherever they're needed, wherever there's work to be done tearing down dictators and corrupt city councils and handing agency and choice back to the people, where it belongs. It's good you got here when you did, she continues, punctuating the words with a long MOOOOO and a chewing of her cud; they're a little shorthanded on site right now, and the caravan's supposed to get on the road first thing tomorrow.

There's a path just to your left through that fence gate there, and if you follow that on up you'll come to the main house. Someone up there should be able to direct you.

//Welcome to the family, honey! I'll be seein' you around, don't you fret.//

Feel free to head on up the path as instructed, if you like; or you can hang around here and ask Bessie some more questions. You probably don't wanna lead with 'holy shit, a talking cow,' though. She's sensitive about that, and she's a really accurate spitter.

[ii. DINNER BELL]

EBL may have a serious mission, but they also know how important it is to relax and let off steam, and tonight is for just that! There's a big fire pit out back here, and the blaze is already going as the sun sets; the air is filled with the smell of smoking meats and grilling veggies, there are picnic benches and long tables and blankets on the ground for everyone to find their own level of comfort, and the atmosphere is warm, friendly, and buzzing with excitement.

Help yourself to a plate, and wash it all down with some fresh lemonade, cider made from the farm's own orchard apples, and maybe a drop or three of the highly alcoholic applejack someone's been brewing in that still out behind the barn. None of that for the youngsters, though! There's a couple of adults here who'll notice, and aren't too shy to grab you by the ear for that one.

For the entertainment-inclined, there do happen to be a few instruments lying around; a beat-up but well-tuned guitar, a violin that's the same, a tambourine that's seen better days. If you like, pick one up and give it a whirl! Or if someone's already playing, maybe you want to sing? Or dance? There's a few folk who're more than happy to shake it on the dance floor--or the dance lawn, as it were. And when you get tired, there are plenty of rooms in the farmhouse, though sorry, you're gonna end up bunking with someone, or several someones.

Whatever you choose to do, make sure you enjoy yourself, because tomorrow the real work starts.

[iii. GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD]

The Farm is a bustle of activity right now; there are about 8 different kinds of vehicles ranging from a giant flatbed to a school bus to a boxy white utility van that looks like it should house at least one serial killer to a traditional woodchuck station wagon. People are swarming around these vehicles, packing and prepping; the Gate is being assembled for transport, also, it looks like, and there's definitely no room for idle hands.

"Need someone over here to load these boxes onto the truck!"

"Who left the coop open last night?! All the chickens have gotten out!!"

"Has anyone seen Charlie this morning?? He was supposed to be in the cellar inventorying supplies, but I haven't heard from him yet!"

If you don't pick something to get started with, chances are, someone's gonna make that call for you. Better get going...

[iv. BREAKER, BREAKER]

As a renegade faction, EBL doesn't exactly have a ton of resources, but what they do have is a lot of ingenuity. Present Mic's pirate radio station broadcasts all day most of the days they're on the road, and some nights as well, and there are plenty of listeners, all tuning in for the secret message hidden in the song: the tuning band for a top-secret digital radio network. Anyone in the movement, whether they're part of the caravan travelling down to Florida, or if they're in any of the cities or territories worldwide, is welcome to broadcast their own shoutouts, share intel on the activities of other factions, or even request songs! Just throw up a hello, and don't forget to give the listeners your callsign!

Felicity/Meg ⧒ OTA

[helixian]

[Welcome Wagon]

Felicity felt like she was in some sort of walking nightmare which lately is not unlike her real life, she looked around not really recognizing much of anything but having the nagging feeling that she should. She could be thankful for small gifts and recognizing her outfit, knew where to look for pertinent info. She stared at a ghost in the mirror and quickly looked through the pockets of her jacket, looking for anything to help her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose once before spotting the cow.

"Hey," She greeted the Cow. "What's up?" Yes, she realizes she is talking to a bovine but when in Rome right? "Been here long?"


[Get Going]
[Blend in... blend in... was the mantra running through Meg's head. deep breath in.... and exhale.]

Haven't seen him, but I can look... it's not like I'm busy right now. What is he wearing?

The TWIN CITIES

[ttwwiiccee]

Arrival

You step out of the gate and into a fancy yet dignified room in Rideau Hall, former residence of the Governor General of Canada having long since converted into an arrivals area for those arriving by Gate. The remnants of whatever previous faction ran the area are still in the room - some sort of serious screening process it looks like - but this has all been shoved to the side and a cheap party store "WELCOME! BIENVENUE!" banner is draped on the dusty equipment instead.

Six identical men are there to greet you. They're all 5'10" in their twenties with spiky blond hair. They're wearing different clothing, at least, some wearing suits, others dressed more casually. They all greet you the moment you step into the room in different ways, at least one giving a bow, a couple waving, one may even give a thumb's up.

"Welcome to the Twin Cities!" they say in a chorus, and that's the last thing they ever say in chorus because they all immediately start either offering you things ("Drink?" "You hungry?" "Anything you need?" ) or asking you questions ("Why'd you choose here?" "Where do you want to live?" "What's your deal again anyway?").

Eventually one of the men quiets down the others and says, "We're really happy you decided to come. I'm Jin Bubaigawara -" He's briefly interrupted by all the others introducing themselves as Jin Bubaigawara. "We're all Jin Bubaigawara, and if there's anything you ever want or need, let any of us know and we'll sort that out for you right away." ("If we can," pipes up one of the others.) "We're having a party in your honour tonight at the Gallery, and we have a hotel room for you to stay while you figure out where you wanna crash fulltime." ("Anywhere unless someone who isn't us is already living there.") "Yeah, don't pick fights with our other residents! We're all friends here, right?"

And all the Bubaigawaras give you identical smiles as they usher you away.

Welcome Party

You're driven to the National Gallery of Canada in a limo (or whatever vehicle you can fit into). The gallery hasn't actually been the National Gallery of Canada for years, but in all this time it's managed to be preserved as a gallery and no other name has stuck.

The Bubaigawaras have made it into a party destination, leaving the architecture as is and the artwork on the walls but otherwise that's all that's left of the formality, aside from one Jin who still runs the coat room. There's a trampoline underneath the giant spider statue and festival stalls serving all sorts of food (all run by Bubaigawaras, of course) outside. Inside the gallery the different rooms are all themed - unsure of what any potential guests would like, they thought of whatever might be fun. There's a movie theatre, an arcade, a bar. One of the rooms is a ball pit. One of the rooms has a wrestling ring set up where you can get into (controlled) fights with other residents or some brand new clones ready to sacrifice themselves for your entertainment. And one long hallway is still an art gallery.

Have fun! They'll be very disappointed if you don't.

The Network

The Network is provided to all guests and is meant for them. This is because there's only one Jin Bubaigawara allowed on there so the whole thing doesn't get overwhelmed by Bubaigawaras chattering, and the singular Jin doesn't have a history of speaking up on it. But it is a welcome place to talk to someone who isn't one of him, and you might even be able to contact any allies of the Twin Cities as well, as the Bubaigawaras might pass on access to essentially anybody they remotely like.

⧒ (Replacement) Twice | OTA

[ttwwiiccee]

Arrival

[ One second, Twice was in De Chima, living his life as an imPort there, and the next he's blinking in the dim light of a strange room, decorated with electric white paper lantern chains. He's behind a desk and he's wearing a uniform. There's all sorts of noise coming from the building around him, but here he's alone.

Confused and looking around he sees that he's behind the desk of a coat room. He feels around in his pocket and pulls out the communicator - only to find that it looks different and the Network it accesses has nothing on there he recognizes.

He notices then that he's not wearing his mask. ] What...? Where's...?

[ Feeling his face for it, he notices that his telltale scar in the center of his forehead is gone. Panic already starting to bubble in his throat, just then a group of Jin Bubaigawaras walk up to the desk. "Hey, we're heading out, coats please?"

They put down their numbers and Jin feels like he's losing his mind. Again. After a moment of blank staring, one of the Jins snaps his fingers. "Coats? Come on, me, get it together."

Jin scrambles to get their coats, starting to hyperventilate. After they leave he ducks behind the counter, breathing heavily, grabbing a coat randomly and throwing it over his head where he crouches underneath, tugging it around him. ]

I'm me, I'm me, I'm me -- aren't I?

For New Arrivals

[ Twice still doesn't know what's happening, but it's clear that all the other Bubaigawaras expect him to keep running the coat check and he's terrified of himself. He's learned that there's versions of him everywhere he can see and therefore nowhere to run. Nothing to do but pretend everything's fine -- mostly. He ducked into the gallery gift shop, grabbed a paper bag and pulled it over his head and hastily pulls it off the second he hears someone approach. ]

Hey! Coat?

OLIN VALE

[sighsheavily]

-OLIN VALE-


-ARRIVAL-
Did your curiosity get the better of you, or did you accidentally select the wrong location? The ill-tended terminal of this gate simply reads your latitude and longitude -- no city name, no welcome message...no city to speak of! Instead, you find yourself deep in the Appalachian Mountains, somewhere remote...so remote, in fact, that you can barely get cell service out here! It's just you and nature...and the glinting eyes watching you from the trees.

Newcomers will definitely not go unnoticed in this wilderness -- in fact, you may already have been detected before you get your bearings! The hidden Vale possesses a skilled scrier who can alert those who can read auras for signs of a threat... Oh, and not to mention that pair of eyes -- it tends to come tandem with a sharp knife just in case.

Idle too long in this wilderness and you will find yourself apprehended by hook, crook, or (very likely) hex, and you will find yourself bound by magical means, facing a beautiful, suspicious woman and a small gathering of trusted others.

"What did you expect to find out here, stranger?" she asks, her eyes faintly aglow. "And, tell me, why should I allow you to remain?"

Perhaps you should've just turned right around and back through the gate...

-INDUCTION-
New additions are getting out of hand: Olin Vale is not keen on recruitment, after all, and it seem an almost-unprecedented surge of imPorts is upon all factions. Typically, bringing a newcomer is a staged process -- very one-on-one, very thorough, for suspicion runs deep and the want to keep trouble out is strong -- but it's clear to Cecelia (after some hours of back-and-forth with her trusted inner circle) that she has to be somewhat flexible.

And so, all those who have freshly sought asylum face these trials at once: Before being allowed to wander the Vale freely, they are housed in a kind of longhouse where all their immediate needs can be attended to in one place. Good luck getting some privacy here -- there's only feeble curtains for partitions between bunks and only a handful of large tables for dining. The structure has peculiar etchings on its foundations and supports -- scrawled spells to keep it inhabitants in despite attempts to break out. Or dig out. Or punch out...and so on.

As long as you don't desperately crave TV or a phone, you'll want for little: There are books and some cards and board games to whittle time away, the food and drink is actually quite good, and the view from the windows is picturesque.

It might not be too easy to get comfortable, however, because that feeling of being observed is hard to shake. Now and then, Cecelia or other long-term residents enter to converse or ask questions, but for the most part, it seems you are being left to your own devices in this fancy, makeshift prison, constantly watched for signs of a threat or show of violence intended for this place or its inhabitants.

After a few days, some parchment and pens are left on the tables, enough for everyone there. Each stack's first page comes with a line already elegantly scrawled:

What do I want from this place?

An essay?

Seriously?


-THE NETWORK-
Sadly, accessing the network seems very difficult within the magic bubble of the Vale. Connection will be spotty but stronger by the gate itself, and tech gurus may have better luck a few miles away, getting closer to nonmagical civilization.

There is something fun and peculiar within the Vale, however: Journals, filled with a couple-hundred blank pages, which one can open up and...watch write itself as others write! Owners can write there, too, and all other journal-holders can see it as well and write notes to each other. When the pages become all filled up, they wash away to blank pages overnight, beginning to record anew.

Unfortunately, these nifty books do not work outside of the Vale and will cease sharing notes once taken out of the magic barrier. Still, if you mean to stay, by all means! Leave a note! You can even make the messages private by simply addressing them "To: [name]"


-THE VALE-
After you've been vetted (and probably judged for your handwriting and grammar) and properly inducted (by way of taking on a curse wherein your eyes and tongue will melt to ash should you give away the Vale's location to outsiders), the Vale is yours to wander.

In the middle of this large valley there is a lavish structure like a mansion where Cecelia and her confidants reside; other housing is more modest but shares similar aesthetics in how nature is entwined with it to make something both regal and arboreal. There are clear, bubbling streams crisscrossing throughout the area, gently swept footpaths and wagon trails, idyllic spots for picnics and meditation...truly a camper's delight...and truly an Internet junkie's nightmare. No cell phone towers, no electricity cables...just you, nature, and the patchwork quilt of imPort magics built up over the years to maintain this lifestyle.

Now, while this place is very beautiful and generally peaceful, it is by no means idle. After all, if people want to maintain a certain level of upkeep, they have to work for it! So you may find yourself asked to help chop wood, shuck corn, reset animal traps or clean horse hooves (yuck!). That's the price of peace here!

anathema device ⧓ ota

[anathemic]

arrival.

[ ooc: if you want to write the actual vetting process, pls go fill in some aura info! ]

Anathema Device is an old hand at this sort of thing, after years of doing it: once the council hands you over to her for vetting, she'll take your hand in a handshake, flash an almost-apologetic smile, and then her gaze goes a little faraway and distant as she looks into your aura. For better or ill, to see what she can find, and what kind of person they're dealing with.

After passing the Vale's scrutiny (whether administered by her or someone else), you might also run into her afterwards, helpfully leading you to the longhouse used for your induction... and which is going to be your home for a few days. Sorry, lads & lasses.

around the vale.

She always looks somewhat busy and half-distracted, hurrying around; it's a sleepy and peaceful town, but Anathema sure doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. You can run into her in one of the makeshift libraries (it's mostly just a collection of books in a one-room building, unattended except for some very nasty spell-wards if someone tries to steal a book), or pacing the outer edges of Olin Vale and strengthening the perimeter spells, or grabbing a meal.

If she spots a pair of idle hands ("Hello! You over there!"), she might go ahead and corral you into some gardening assistance, carrying her heavy books, or any other errands that need doing. Chop chop!

excursions.

It's mostly a self-sustaining society, but sometimes they do need some supplies from outside — and sometimes errands take people beyond the borders. Long-term residents have earned the right to leave more easily, and so Anathema leaves occasionally, mostly on little pilgrimages to other magic-oriented factions to gather information. Want to come with and hit the road? Pack a bag and tag along!

wildcard.

[ toss me anything, or hmu @ via PM or quadrille if you want to discuss a different setup! ]

EDEN

[afallon]

1. Arrival

The Gate is housed in a modern military institution, though it'll take stepping outside the wood-paneled arrival room to realize that. Though perhaps the uniformed guards, welcoming but professional, will clue people in from the start. After some hand-shaking and an offer of water, the guards hand new arrivals a folder. It contains some general information about Eden - its ideals, its government, an explanation of the most common modern technology such as cell phones, and directions to an apartment building where imPorts are housed until they're able to support themselves (they are expected to support themselves). Along with this is a check for $2,000 (for convenience's sake, the currency has remained dollars), enough to help someone get on their feet. And a letter certifying that the bearer is an imPort and thus automatically eligible for a position with the government, should they desire it (not everyone has easily transferable skills after all, and there's always something to be done).

As they're escorted through the building, which proves to be located on an island in Boston Harbor, the building's loudspeaker system begins broadcasting a prepared message. "Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg and the people of Eden welcome you. Here, you will find peace and opportunity for all. Pursue the life you wish for, without obstruction or interference. Alongside one another, we can achieve lasting harmony."

The ferry, manned by one Samuel Beechworth, is on hand to take new citizens to the city. And old hand, Samuel's ready to offer a few words of his own about what to expect. "It's safe enough, and that oughta count for something. But don't let all that shine fool you, because there's something grimy lurking around the edges. Feels like there's eyes on you wherever you go. The head honchos are playing a different game than we are, and they didn't bother letting any of us commonfolk know the rules. Maybe that's just how it is when you've got all that power, no matter where you go."

And now, you've arrived on the docks. Welcome to Eden!


2. Festival

In keeping with Eden's ideals of equality, there is no special event to welcome new imPorts. New arrivals are, however, encouraged to come join in during the monthly street fair held around the Council Hall, the building that used to be Trinity Church. Shops and restaurants throw their doors open, artisans of all kinds set up booths, and, of course, there are food trucks. There's a bit of Renaissance fair flair which has wound its way into the proceedings, from the prevalence of mead on drink menus to the musical style adopted by some buskers. It is by now a well-established and well-attended affair. You may even run into some high-ranking members of government while you're here.

Venturing out into the rest of the city, the mix of old and new remains, even more so than usually the case in Boston. Newer buildings appear in older styles, horses move in traffic alongside cars, and cloaks have made a definite comeback in local fashion. Still, the Romanesque edifices are lit by electricity, and you'll need to shout pretty loudly to warn the guy with earbuds in about that runaway horse.


3. Network

The network in Eden is provided by the state-owned telecommunications company, and freely accessible. Messages can be sent to or from any faction, anywhere in the world. Freedom to pursue your own life means freedom to communicate, after all.

(Just not without being watched.)

Edelgard von Hresvelg | ota

[edelgards]

ARRIVAL

The Emperor of Eden hardly sees it appropriate to shy away from normal, day-to-day business. It's not unusual, then, to catch a glimpse of her at arrival. Since this is a military installation, Edelgard naturally sees it as important to dress appropriately.

Her armor, ornate and golden, is accentuated by a fringe of black eagle feathers by her collar and a long, crimson cape. If training with her soldiers, it is also possible to see her with an axe so large and ferocious that anyone would wonder how a woman so short can swing that weapon so mercilessly.

Apart from looking somewhat...intimidating, the closer you are the more you might see how interested she is to talk. And how oddly she seems to want to fuss over you.

FESTIVAL

Emperor Edelgard makes many appearances at the festivals as well. Stopping to speak with both natives and imPorts alike, it's not unusual for her to gain a bit of an entourage. Dressed in a stately red gown, her cape emblazoned with the image of a black eagle, she is easy to spot regardless.

If she isn't caught in the middle of a conversation, Edelgard can be seen wandering the vendor stalls, perhaps with a stuffed bear under one arm, or even a new board game. Soon enough her bags are full with things she either wants to give to her close confidants or something she thinks will suite them in their training for improvement. Always the mother-hen, she never fails to find someone or something to catch her interest.

The Seekers of the New Dawn

[thyarchon]

The Seekers of the New Dawn

Arrival

Glimmershire's Gate is...not yet in the city proper, and arrival takes an hours travel to the small city from the nearest one. Getting there is hardly difficult however, there's Seekers and those willing to give nearly anyone a ride to the city abound.

However you manage to get there, the first stop is what is effectively a gatehouse. There's a general bustle of energy, and a greeter is quick to hail new faces to their side and help give guidance. In fact, everyone seems generally happy to help if asked or to simply offer it if someone looks to be in need.

There are guards about, but they're just as willing to help carry a crate or give directions as they are to handle someone causing a scene or respond to an emergency.

New Face

The greeter that hails an obviously new arrival is fairly chipper, and it's hard to tell if they're an imPort or not.

"You're a new face! Welcome to Glimmershire, headquarters of the Seekers. Sorry it's a bit..." they wave a hand at the low grade chaos. "Anyway, biggest rule around here is the nonviolence one. Yell and argue all you want, but physical fighting's for the sparring grounds. Other than that... what can I help you with?"

Familiar Folks

Those who've been here before are greeted by a frazzled individual, though no less friendly than usual.

"Looking for someone?" they ask, "They're probably helping with the Gate, finally getting one."

Welcome Wagon

New arrivals, or those who might need to catch up on what's changed since they've been among the Seekers, are told of the evening meeting in one of the plazas near the markets. There's wide tiers of a short amphitheater for just such things, and the woman who steps to the 'stage' is one of the guards.

"Luckily, you're not dealing with Urianger this time so this won't take long." she says, smiling faintly and there's a few tittered laughs from those who've dealt with him. She shifts her stance, relaxed but still the stern guard she seems to be.

"The Seekers of the New Dawn, and by extension Glimmershire, is a neutral faction. We do not engage in disputes with the other imPort led factions other than to act upon request as neutral negotiators. If you are here to cause trouble or attempt to convince us otherwise, you will be unsucessful. That being said, we are not unfriendly or unwilling to help in whatever way we can. 'To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably aid is not wisdom, it is indolence.' It is our philosophy that helping each other and treating all as equal is the greatest way towards peace. There is housing available for those who need it, though anything bigger than what is offered will have to be built out in the wards. We will not force any to do work, but helping where one's interests lay is highly encouraged. Craftspeople are especially welcome as we ready to activate the Gate, though there are plenty of other works to help with and the Library is always looking for help as well. There has been work towards having airships, but that seems to have stalled of late.

"We Seekers have few rules here, as you were told when you arrived, we do not allow combat within the city. Engaging in such will result in being removed from the city, if you have a problem with someone there are better ways to solve the issue. The guards are capable of settling disputes through negotiation if intervention is needed. Other than that... we hold one another accountable around here. There is a council of those who head the different aspects of the faction, but while some final decisions are made by them they are no more in charge than any other group head. You are welcome to take charge of your own group if they wish to be led, or work on your own on whatever you wish. If there is something specific you wish to work on, you need but ask and you will be pointed in the right direction.

"If you have questions, I will do my best to answer them with the rest of the time we have."

Initiation?

The Seekers don't seem to have much of any real initiation to their ranks, other than maybe getting asked to swing by the Library to be asked questions. Everyone generally seems to assume that unless you're obviously visiting from a different faction, you're one of them.

The closest thing there is is from the man running the large cafeteria-bar, which is putting a line of shots before those who seem old enough to drink.

"The Fate Challenge, ain't gonna make you do it but it's bragging rights to do e'm all." he says, grinning, "And you'll get breakfast delivered in the morning if you keep 'em all down!"

Network

The network is a bit of a hodgepodge here, spare devices are available to connect to it but there's nothing especially formal about it and there's no monitoring by the Seekers of who talks to who. If you have the means to access a different factions network it will probably work here too.

There are some sections of the Library and Museum where network devices are not allowed, and that rule is enforced by a stern guard who will hold on to it in a little cubby wall for folks.

Lan Jingyi | The Untamed | OTA

[gusumouthcannon]

For anyone who knew Lan Jingyi, either from home or from the world he's begun to have vague dreams about, they will find him now in his early thirties, and someone who bailed cruelly on the Dawnseekers three years ago to pursue power and acclaim at the House of M. If anyone asks around, however, Jingyi does have a reputation for helping out the Dawnseekers at the drop of a hat, and often will assist with monsters and projects, especially at the request of his family.

A Belated Arrival

With only a couple of days left until the Synod, Jingyi arrives without fanfare, dropping out of the sky on his sword in his more modern-style flight outfit of leather and cotton, his sword sheath strapped to his back. Getting the Gate up and running will not come a moment too soon. As it is, he lands in a plaza and dusts himself off before looking around, seeing if he can spot any newcomers, friends, or acquaintances that might need a friendly greeting. Still, though, he gives only the most cursory of looks; he has qiankun pouch full of notes on the new arrivals to the House of M and he would like to get them to the Library before he goes to find somewhere to wash up and relax. As such, even though he sweeps his gaze over everyone as he heads from plaza to Library, faces do not immediately register.

Visiting Old Family

There for the establishment and building of the Dawnseekers, Jingyi has come to view them as family as much as he did those of his own world who had ended up here. Part of the reason he gave himself so long before Synod to drop off his information was his desire to say hello to friends, family, and everyone in between. The one bad part of living at the House of M (besides the whole...concerning attitudes thing), was that he had had to leave everyone behind for most of the year.

He heads to where they are most likely to be at this time of day and taps gently on the door frame (or whatever else is nearby that might make a light thunk) to get their attention. He must look a sight in his sweat-stained flight outfit, but the grin is more than genuine. "Miss me?"

Wildcard~

Wildcard me up, especially if we discussed anything during plotting out new relationships. Or, if you're inclined, feel free to ping me and I will whip up a custom starter!

[iceheart_imperial]

The Northwestern Imperium


"In nomine imperator, nos resurgemus, et restituet"

Where Have You Arrived?

The Northwestern Imperium lives as the gateway to North America from the vastness of the Pacific. Under the benevolent hand of our mighty Emperor, we reach to the Yukon in the North, and Oregon in the South, with a vast, beautiful interior to rival the greatest natural spaces on the Earth. You are in the capital city of Victoria, remodeled into a grand Imperial Seat. The Empire offers peace, and security, in the chaotic eddies of today's North America. Here you have the freedom to grow, to make a new life in a land in which imPort, Earth-born, and First Peoples work together in common purpose.

Protected by our benevolent Emperor, The Imperium reminds us all of the better days where strife and factions did not pollute the continent. The old prosperity, here, remains.

Find your Path!

Bring Honor to the Peoples!

Long Live the Emperor!

Setting

Sprawling across the beauteous spaces of the Pacific Northwest - and ever-expanding - the Imperium offers vast natural beauty - and technological prowess. It exports raw materials as well as high-end communications equipment powered by magitech - undercutting yesterday's silicon-based technologies from further south. Perhaps not the most populous of states, but everywhere there is a sense of movement, of energy. This is an Empire on the rise, on the move - but to where, is the question.

Further Details and Imperial History found here.

Arrival

One arrives through the porter system into what is clearly a great hall, prepared for some sort of banquet or party. The sounds of traditional music of First Peoples, drums and dancing, filter up to where you are.



You are approached shortly after by a woman with black hair, with two white stripes in it, and one eye red and the other blue.

"Welcome, I'm Director-General Poirier. Think of me as the Prime Minister. I'm glad to welcome you to the Imperium. You're in luck - not everyone gets greeted in person, but it's a festival day today. You'll get a chance to meet the Emperor later, as it happens. Emperor Emet-Selch does so enjoy attending such things in person."

Looking around, the new arrival will see what appears to be a very open hall - banners of First Nations hang everywhere, with signs pronouncing their self-government. The woman in the grey suit continues, glancing at a pocket watch to keep track of time.

"You'll receive a briefing on laws and customs shortly. Please bear in mind that the First Peoples govern themselves, so if you venture into their territories, you'll be under their laws - respect them."

As you look at details, some points stand out - despite the airy feel to the place, there are guards about. And the occasional Magitech armor:



The woman smiles, and nods, offering a shaken hand. "I have duties to attend to. But you'll find counseling services, orientation materials, and information on assigned housing - nobody in the Imperium goes without a roof over their head. Good luck, and good fortune. Do great things for us, please."

Below there are rich foods, including a selection of food from any number of First Nations - Haida, Tlingit, Nisga'a, Tsimshian - nearly twenty in all. There will even be gifts, echoes of the ancient Potlatch tradition, respected and welcomed here. There are areas where Indigenous artists have works for sale in a variety of ways. But above all, there is music and dancing - traditional in one hall, more modern in another. The Imperium is, clearly, eclectic - a reflection of its Emperor and his varying tastes and moods.

Finally, if you stay long enough, the Emperor himself makes his arrival. Escorted by his elaborate and fascinating royal guard, he sweeps up to the dais upon which sits his throne. Everyone, of course, rises. And then the impressive strains of the national anthem - a relic of the Director-General's French upbringing - fills the hall:

Vivat In Aeternum

The Network

While there is no real free press in the Imperium - the Emperor does so hate mockery - the Network itself is rather surprisingly open. It is government-provided, free to access, and can easily reach outside. Even careful testing will not reveal any actual monitoring - the Director-General well knows what full surveillance is extraordinarily costly and will prevent nothing. Better to save efforts for specific individuals and known spies, rather than waste money and resources on trying to control information that will escape anyways.

Besides, it is a rather convenient excuse: the Free Voice sub-network exists alongside it. From here a broadcast known as The Voice of the Peoples reaches nearly every citizen in the Imperium - and with the new communications satellites the Imperium has recently been putting into orbit, this broadcast is reaching further and further afield. The White Tower is condemned, rebellion and its eventual success extolled - calling for an end to ImPort supremacy.

Strangely, the Free Voice seems to never criticize the Imperium on anything other than the most superficial level - but then again, it says nothing against a number of factions, either. This is, of course, the sort of thing that happens on an open network. Nothing to be done about it, of course. And secretly, these increasingly professional propaganda broadcasts are being funded by the Director-General's ISB - the Imperium Security Bureau.

Talk to whom you want; it will be mostly free - let the rebellion organize, and they will go mostly without monitoring. The press may not be terribly free in the Imperium - but the flow of ideas certainly is.

Additional Information:
Faction History and Additional Information
Emperor Emet-Selch
Director General Ysanne Poirier
Jaina Solo, Future Leader
[If you become affiliated with the Imperium in the course of the event, please drop me a PM for an add here.]

[hellufacade]

[When he wakes, truly wakes, from his consciousness transposed into a familiar yet different body, he finds himself sitting up at his desk. He knows that it’s his desk as it is very close to one that he has designed before. Plus... he’s sitting at it. He spares a glance out the window to behold evergreen trees wrapped around mountains and valleys.

This is when when he hears a polite knock at his door accompanying the request of his presence. He stands, noticing slightly more stiffness in his knees than yesterday. It almost feels like—. ]

[He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror, answering precisely one question of a hundred.]

[And then his... advisor? Assistant? Handler? Whoever this is supposed to be informs him that there’s only five minutes before he’s to give a speech.]

[Emet-Selch asks if he left him with notes or if they’re waiting on the speech writer. Which earns him only the most restrained of odd looks.]

[“No sir—“]

[For fuck’s sake.]

Welcome, my gathered.

[“All hail Emperor Emet-Selch” they reply in unison. It is all he can do to not display shock on his face. Emperor... Emet-Selch? He’d have to catch up later. Which is precisely when he sees Ysanne.]

...Forgive me. A moment, please.

[He realizes, quite all at once, that anything he says is going to look insane. He has no idea who this man by his side is, how is he going to address him— ]

You. I’m about to be sick. Don’t tell them that.

Send anyone I was to speak with to my office in one hour.

[ And then he makes a quick heel turn and stalks back the way he came, searching his pockets. He comes away with a communication device and looks at who he may have spoken to last. He takes a breath and begins down the list, hoping that he will make sense of this before his hour is up. ]

◆ GREEN PIECE

[seasonoftheitch]

THE FACTION INFO

ARRIVAL

The Amazon has been fully reclaimed by Green Piece, acres of farmland and other developments swallowed back up into the trees and vines. Deep in the heart of the rainforest, however, several small villages have been literally carved into and cultivated out of the landscape. The largest of these serves as the arrival spot for newcomers, the gate welcoming guest into an area that appears to be straight out of a Tolkien novel. Buildings are growing out of trees and vines, rivers running through it, and the entire area is covered with a canopy filled with chattering wildlife. The only artificial items in sight are the many solar panels up in the very top branches, harvesting energy for the village, and the electrical wires (made from sustainable materials) bringing electricity to the buildings.

The population is relatively scarce. While some humans can be seen here and there, the first creatures new arrivals are likely to meet are in fact sentient plants cultivated by Ivy. Fans of Little Shop of Horrors may be slightly off put to notice how much the ten foot tall plant creatures wandering the area resemble the star of that show , except they walk around on vine legs instead of being stuck in a pot. Everyone that comes through the gate is greeted by at least one of these creatures and goes through an impromptu immigration check. No weapons are allowed, and will be held by the plants until you leave. Each person is given a bright purple blossom (a living plant, not plastic or dead) to wear somewhere visible on their person for the duration of their visit. They are warned any damage done to that blossom will be considered a personal insult to Green Piece, it is the visitor’s duty to keep it whole and well.

After that, visitors are welcome to wander the village at will, save for the underground research labs that are well marked as off limits. There are also several signs warning people not to venture into the forest unless they are ready to face the man eating plants and other dangers that lurk in it. The locals will range from curious to purely indifferent about most visitors, unless they are a known trade partner to the group.

JOINING

There are no grand celebrations when someone joins Green Piece. Humans aren’t really the point of all this, after all. Rather it’s more of a ritualized warning. An individual must simply have lived in a village or the forest itself for several weeks, proving they will not harm the faction or the natural world it worships.

Once this is done, the individual will be granted a new bright orange blossom by Poison Ivy to replace the purple one they wore as a guest. This exchange takes place in the Valley of Trees, an area filled with clearly non-native to the Amazon trees, all with twisted limbs and what looks like faces in the bark. Which they are. As Ivy grants the blossom she explains anyone that betrays the faction or its ideals of putting nature first will join the grove, being turned into a human/tree hybrid confined to this valley until they die.

After this warning, individuals then get their blossom and get a nice welcome basket of all natural soaps and lotions.


NETWORK

The network is freely available, and people can talk to anyone- Green Piece doesn’t believe in editing information. But the plants are always listening, and the forest itself can report on people if they are openly plotting against the group over the network.


MEDICAL TEST SUBJECTS

Green Piece cultivates a large number of experimental plants within their research centers, ones that aren’t allowed to just grow free in the wild. These are harvested to turn into teas, lotions, gases, etc, to see how they impact mammalian creatures. Obviously, Green Piece doesn’t believe in testing on animals. That’s what humans are for. Visitors or permanent residents can volunteer as a research subject to have the plants tested on them to get into Ivy’s graces, avoid other kinds of punishment if they screw up, or just for fun.

Don’t worry, they’re non lethal! Mostly. You’re an imPort, you’ll be fine. Medical staff is on call.

Many of the plants have totally unknown effects, while others are at a later stage of development where they are being perfected for use. Volunteers can choose which they’d like to sample. These plants can cause anything from paralysis, to acting as a wild hallucinogen, to serving as a ‘love potion’ where individuals become smitten with the first other human they see, to slowly turning people into plants, to whatever else you can think of.

Individuals that participate will be monitored while they experience effects and the full medical force of Green Piece is on hand to help if things get too crazy- but mostly, people will be left to their own devices. Being paralyzed on the ground for a couple hours or writing poetry to a bush an individual just fell in love with won’t kill them. It’s better for science to just observe, take notes, and adjust future formulas accordingly.

Samples, sadly, cannot be taken out of Green Piece without permission. If you want to trick someone into falling in love with you or breaking out into horrible purple spots, you’ll have to get them to the village first.

Tina Belcher | OTA

[continuousgroaning]

((If you'd rather do brackets, I will match! hmu on Plurk shurimon or Discord at Yedong#9491 for plotting.))

Tina's first arrival to this strange Earth had been disorienting enough- but this? She's barely able to cope with this. Superpower Earth was familiar enough to where she'd become used to it- daresay, even fond of it- and this world, where imPorts had decided to take over... well, she thoroughly disapproves of that notion. That and the cold, impersonal greeting she receives.

Which is how she's ended up here in Green Piece, as it seems like the most peaceful faction, a place where she can just... be and not get involved in this world's conflicts, and so it is that she's here, a very upset and confused teenager, wringing her hands with worry as she slowly, tentatively explores.

Magnus, she thinks. Where's Magnus? What about Archie? And her horse, for that matter? She's afraid to look, out of fear that they'll be gone and she'll be utterly alone.

As the days go by, she becomes slightly more comfortable, showing a particular interest in using her water manipulation powers to tend to the plants and learning how to best cultivate the edible ones. If she's stuck here, she thinks, she might as well make herself useful, until she can figure out how to get home.

Mad Burnish

[myburningsoul]

ARRIVAL

Passing the gate is like gasping for air. The dry desert heat engulfs all that step into it. A long, winding dirt road running through the desert marks the way for those willing to traverse the seemingly barren landscape. It's not a long walk, but the heat is almost unbearable. In the distance lies the last remnants of the cold war: Sugar Bunker; an old nuclear testing facility during the height of the arms race now abandoned in the deserts of the Nevada wasteland. There you are greeted by the sight of natives and imPorts, working together to build a new life, hidden away from the White Tower's eyes.

Solar vegetable gardens dot the space alongside the old bunker, irrigation dug up from the groundwater below. The atmosphere seems freer, cheerful-- like you can finally take a breath. However, something lurks below the surface among those tasked with protecting it. Nervous glances are passed, but smiles are plastered on their faces as you pass through.

WELCOME

If you're not immediately greeted, Mad Burnish General Galo Tymos will make his presence known, sooner rather than later. His loud, boisterous voice resonates across the barracks. He's quick to shake hands and greet all newcomers as long as he has the time.

When the night falls, the bright pink and green flames flicker, embers disappearing into the stars above. A wall of Burnish flames has been erected across the entrance to the bunker. ImPorts and native dwellers alike stand and wait for the night to begin as food is starting to be put out to be shared.

"ALL RIGHT." Galo grins, clapping his hands together as he gestures to the roaring flames. "All newcomers, it's time to line up and get ready for the TRIAL BY FIRE."

Staring at the wall of flames is intimidating as fire is wild, uncontrollable. Who knows what's bound to happen! Galo looks at the crowd expectantly, hands on his hips, ready for the first person to step forward.

"Come on! Don't be shy. It's easy! Watch."

And with that? He disappears into the flames.

A cry goes up: a young girl sinks to her knees with tears in the corner of her eyes as time goes on and Galo doesn't reappear. They have to go through the flames in order to become part of the Mad Burnish? She chews on her lip, the fear clear in her eyes as she considers bolting.

Then Galo remerges, laugher rising through the air as he pulls the flames back to himself until they are little more than a flicker in the palm of his hand.

"Kidding! Kidding. No trials or anything. Welcome to Mad Burnish."

NETWORK

The Network itself is built on some jury-rigged connections, routers, coding, and servers. It can be a bit intermittent, cutting in and out on its best days and being completely dead on its worst. However, when the connection is stable, the network itself isn't closely monitored--through Galo is an active participant in communications. Whoever set up the communications, however, was very generous with their filters.

LIO FOTIA?

Unfortunately, disorganization runs rampant through the ranks with one question on their minds: Where is their leader, Lio? Feel free to question Galo--either to what is happening with the missing man of the hour, or his leadership in Lio's absence. You might not get the answers you're looking for, and there might be push back from Galo. That works if you're looking for a fight, of course.

WELCOME (Closed to Galo)

[crimsonunion]

A young woman with a brown bowl cut and a downright massive pack on her back gawks at Galo as he charges through the flames, jaw slack as silence hangs over the crowd. Then she slaps herself on her cheeks, draws herself up to her full (diminutive) height, and begins rambling like there's no tomorrow. "Everyone knows that if you go through a bunch of fire really fast you won't get burned because you're too fast to catch the heat or something at least that's what my brother said and he did stupid stunts like that all the time and never got hurt except when he did but my family are all doctors so it was fine even if he got burned when the fire was super hot but he was small so that didn't happen very often and Mr. Fireman is HUGE so if he can just sprint straight on through there without getting hurt I should be more than fine since I'm way shorter than him and who knows I might get a tan for cheap! Cheap, cheap, cheap!"

Leaving the rest of the crowd utterly dumbfounded, she takes a deep breath, runs through the fire screaming, and-

-emerges on the other side a completely different person, although the huge bundle is still on her back.

"..."

Ryuko doesn't know what to say. She just stares at Galo. Then,

"Hey."

LUMINARY

[resoluteandunyielding]

ARRIVAL.

You step out of the gate into a gentle, brisk heaven, high in the Andes Mountains.

The porter building itself is a castle, old in age, but on close inspection, nowhere near falling into disrepair. You can easily spot work that has been done to keep it in as authentic condition as it is, as well as small artistic designs, like signatures near these patches of work. Once you’ve been lead from the porter gate to the land outside (by the guards stationed there, who are wary but treat you with unwavering professionalism), you will find that you are on an island little bigger than the castle itself.

Around you, in all directions beyond the water which surrounds this small gate, are rolling fields and steppes. All of which are terraced with crops and dotted with grazing animals. Even further out and more demanding to the eye are the snow-capped mountains dominating the sky in every direction. They rule the view in a majesty sliding between shades of brown, grey, and blue-purple, reflecting the tenor and tone of the day’s sky overhead.

You are met by The Royal Dragon Knight of the Queen here. Once it is ascertained that you present no danger to Luminary, you are delivered by craft to the mainland and the city at the center of Luminary, brilliant as its name. There at the docks, you are met with a fanfare of celebration and smiling faces. The population seems excited and happy to see you’ve come to join them.

You can instantly tell that this crowd is a mix of imPorts and world natives, but they all seem to be joined together and turned toward you in peace and affection. There are children bearing intricately crafted glass flowers for you, showers of tiny streamers in all colors thrown up in the air from every direction. An artisan brings you a warmer, obviously handmade, cover to help you transition to your new high-altitude climate, telling you that you owe them nothing, and you will want for nothing here.

It’s their pleasure to serve the Moon Goddess and welcome even more of her children home.

You realize very quickly as people begin telling you about your new life that this does not pertain to just gifts, but the government now also affords you free housing, utilities, healthcare, education, training, even food benefits as citizen rights. This will free up most of your time to turn your pursuits toward arts and production without any fear of needs not being met.


WELCOME.

There is no trial to join Luminary, as your only trial was meeting The Dragon, whether you knew it or not at the time. You are brought to the palace, where the Queen waits on the steps to the castle, to greet you. She is a small woman, arrayed in the moon’s symbols, and while her dark eyes hold a grave deepness, her smile of welcome is as sincere as her people’s.

After your short introduction with Queen Sinivalyana, you are ushered into the Oath Room, where members of the Orbit and Satellite government arms sit prepared to witness your taking of Luminary’s Sacred Vow.

Before you stands the Royal Dragon himself, clad in golden armor and a beautifully dyed woolen robe. For all the sun imagery woven in, it's still brightly colored. In his hand, he holds the documents of the founding government of Luminary, wrapped in a silver case with the Queen's royal seal on it.

For all this formal expression, his eyes are warm, even kind in a distant way. You've been told the Oath and also that the Royal Dragon will help you if you stumble or forget words. He offers the parcel out; it has a place for you to place your hand. "Do you swear upon the scared documents of Luminary the Oath of Citizenship?"

This is where you are to repeat the Oath. The Royal Dragon nods softly at you, his mouth pulling a bit at the corners in the suggestion of a smile. The words were given to you earlier, by one of the officials who welcomed you were:

“By the Moon and her presence, steady and true, I - your name -, swear to abide the peace and treaties our Noble Queen has set forth, swear to assist the Royal Dragon in informing on treason if I find any, swear to give until Luminary my talents and time to build a more vibrant, beautiful community, so we may be a shining light for all to see, swear not to drive myself to ruin for the sake of state but to grow, to be one of the many roots under its glory."*

You are watched with a critical eye by all in the room, monitored both by those with the powers and not. You are not informed they scrutinize your every thought, pause, possible hesitation, or gust of elated readiness. But as you are not found lacking in any means (because, of course, you wouldn’t be, right?), applause and cheers erupt as you finish.

Afterward, you are taken to shake hands with the heads of each branch, and people begin to discuss where you feeel you might best start fitting into the society of Luminary.


NETWORK.

Communication is open, and adults are free to do as they please, both contacting those within Luminary and those outside of Luminary’s borders, within the reason of Luminary’s Tradition and Values. As long as it does not threaten the lives of those in Luminary or bring the taboo and inappropriate before the eyes of children, the network is a free space of peaceful exchange, commerce, and artistic/artisan exhibition.

While it does not seem to be monitored, there is a complicated and profoundly sophisticated system monitoring Luminary’s Network. When Luminary began, this was not true, but just as the tenor of the rule changed, so did the observation of threats both within and without Luminary's borders.

Children will find they cannot access anything inappropriate to their age (which is set by tiers based on their growing ages). Still, they are always encouraged to interact with each other and the artists and artisans of all ages and walks of life, because the inspiration for such callings will be fostered at every age.


MISBEHAVING.

If you go too far out of line (pick a fight, are the cause of needless destruction, any form of inappropriate public indiscretion, or found guilty of sedition) you will be arrested by The Royal Dragon Knight or a member of the Queen’s Army, and then be brought for sentencing before Queen Sinivalyana herself.

As Luminary allows for little leeway in its mandated peace and harmony, this will likely not go well for you. Queen Sinivalyana is not unfair, per se, and she will hear out all those brought before her first, in their own defense, but the heavy hand of her rule and edicts is half of what keeps the peace eternal and the people confident in their safety.

Finn Onaru (the Dragonborn)

[fireandhoney]

Arrival
You arrive in a scenic, seaside town in Florida. A billboard cheerfully says "Welcome to New Solstheim" and below it reads "Home of Finn Onaru, the Dragonborn". The town is rather pretty, full of beautiful beaches, a marina full of boats, and nice looking houses in the residential district. If asked around, people will say that New Solstheim isn't this area's original name, but Councilor Onaru wanted it so. In the center of town sits a large stone statue of the Dragonborn, his face friendly but his pose suggests that it's best not to cross him. There's also a mural in town, near the entertainment district, showing the Dragonborn standing victorious over a dragon's skeleton. The piece is a reminder of the power their self-proclaimed Emperor holds at his disposal. Roaming the town are guards decked out in armor similar to what those on Raven Rock wear.

The Dragonborn's mansion is huge, with a tall gate surrounding it. This is the home of a man with a high opinion of himself, but knows how to be cautious. One never knows when an assassin or other trouble might come along to challenge the Dunmer. Upon approaching the gate, one will be seen inside by servants, because the Dragonborn Emperor is always in the mood for visitors.

Inside the mansion is quite luxurious, with a certain mixture of aesthetics. Some of it is aquatic themed, to go with the fact that he lives in a seaside town. Other pieces of decor are recreations of artwork from Morrowind, including vases, paintings and even a shrine to his ancestors in the reading room. Hanging within the front room is a large painting of Finn with Jonathan Walsh. It seems that even after Walsh defected, Finn hasn't had the heart to take down the painting. The servant asks the guest to wait within the front hall, and they are free to look about while they go fetch the Dragonborn.

Finn comes down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in a long blue robe that he likely just grabbed out of his closet and threw on. Finn gives his guest a small wave, "Hello there. What can I do for you?"

Network
The Network is freely open, and people are welcome to use it to their heart's content. The Emperor knows very little of electronics or computers, but he has a team of techs who monitor the Network for any signs that someone might be about to cause trouble. Anyone who speaks out against Finn or the White Tower is henceforth monitored for any future suspicious activity.

There is a rather large network devoted to artists, and those who wish to share their crafts. The Emperor supports the arts, after all.

Out and About

It's not often one sees the self-proclaimed Emperor out and about, especially without any guards with him. The guards kept insisting that they go with him, and Finn had to be firm with them that he can take care of himself. In reality, he wants to explore while being inconspicuous. Since he's not human, he's wearing a hood, jeans and a bandanna around the lower half of his face. There's so much fancy stuff in his closet, he finds it amazing that he was able to find casual attire.

He's gleaned some of what's going on here. It seems that not long after he got here, he went to the dark side and took over this town, and has been making plans to expand further out. Furthermore, Finn's found a notebook written in his native language with dates, times and names. He can only guess as to what it means, but obviously he didn't want anyone reading it if he wrote it in a language only he understands. For some reason that really worries him. So far, nobody's stopped him or asked what he's doing out. As long as he keeps his disguise up and his head low, nobody seems to recognize him and thus accost him. Frankly, he finds the statue of himself rather tacky.

It's possible to spot him while he's out on the town and follow him, if one knows what to look for or sees a hint of red eyes under the hood. Eventually, Finn makes his way to a wooded area near the edge of town, hikes about a mile inward and finds a rock to sit down on. He pulls off the hood and bandanna, letting himself just relax for now. "This is weird. This is really, really weird. Azura help me wake up already."

Wildcard
[OOC: Feel free to hit me up for a prompt or write your own. arwingyoshi]

Out and About

[legalcy]

Unfortunately, someone does find Finn out in the wilds as he travels to the woods. A large hauler truck rumbles around the forest on a former driveway. It's not anything like the trucks seen on the streets of Heropa in another universe. If anything, it looks like it should belong to a military.

Finn could try to run before it can spot him, but the truck starts to split apart and change shape. It grows taller, sprouting two arms, and the bottom splits into legs. The last to appear is a stern face.

There is a 30-foot-tall Cybertronian looking straight at Finn.

"I never thought this is how I would find you." He holds up a large gun that was customized for his hands and aims it at him. "Come with me or I will have to use force."