isleofavalon | best foot forward [OPEN]

Entry tags:

best foot forward [OPEN]

🧙 WHO: Cecelia & OPEN
⚔️️ WHAT: assorted happenings/questings
🕒 WHEN: early/mid-march
🗺️ WHERE: in & around Camelot!
⚠️ WARNINGS: none in prompts; if issues arise, the content will be tagged

o1. the cinderella situation - camelot, shopping areas
[Cecelia Ardenbury is not very great at the pauper life, and she knows it. she grew up wanting very little where material needs are concerned, and her understanding of "making do" is skewed by the world of fiction.

still..."make do" she must.]

Have you...any system in place of...lending your wares? [her smile is a touch pained as she speaks to one of the workers at a clothing boutique. her hand goes up almost in pefect timing with their eyebrows at the inquiry.] I know. Strange, yes? And you've got little cause to trust me. But is there any collateral I can offer in exchange? Surely others from other lands have found themselves in such a situation, and as it stands, I can't work in this...

[she sighs down at her gown, utterly ruined by the days of travel and strife she's found herself in upon arrival.]

...Unless you have some simple cleaning that needs done in exchange instead, I suppose...

[or someone with coin to spare feels moved to lend her a hand.]

o2. the sorcerer, re-apprenticed - outside camelot

None of this magic is really mine, is it?

[a small tongue of flame dances above hand, bouncing from fingertip to fingertip while she's seated on a stone along the side of the road leading back to the city. her journal is in her lap, and she scratches away notes while idly juggling the flame. a slender, goat-sized unicorn lay at her feet, seeming to doze while the half-elf woman murmurs to herself.

a chilly spring breeze snuffs the flame out, and Cecelia sighs.] Not mine in the slightest... [her spark,the flames she could conjure on her own from her own blood and heritage...

she shivers, hugging her arms to herself.] Nh. I'm...not used to feeling the elements like this, either... [she sighs.]

One hell of a square one...this is so vexing...!

o3. wabbit season - Camelot
[ye gods, the indignity... fetch questing?? what is she, level 2?

be strong, Cecelia. it's just a dumb animal. and at least it's not like she has to crawl through mud or brambles? this is actually quite gentle. yeah! this'll be fine! this...this is fine.]

Right, then...

[animal handling: one of her greatest failings in her ages of training. Cecelia frowns down at the array of fuzzy lumps currently populating this little cafe, then at the photograph provided by the app.]

Is it you, hm? I'd quite like this to be over quickly, so--

[she puts her phone away in some hidden pocket within her dress and tentatively reaches down to pick up one of the bunnies, looking like she's about to lift something potentially radioactive, letting it dangle at arm's length until, naturally, it begins to fidget. the second it does, she yelps in alarm, letting it drop and bound over to whomever else is on the case.

still in bunny-hold pose, her expression struggling to contain her disdain:] Gods...

o4. the randomizer - varied -- Camelot adjacent (this bitch can't afford a ride yet)
[wild card me, i fuckin DARE U.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

My, I'm setting a precedent. [she smirks, but not unkindly, before sitting up a little straighter, her chin a bit higher. old habit. elf upbringing. very haughty. much putting-on of airs. wow.] I say wily as I envision observing a fox leaping and bounding around its underground prey like some strange forest dance. You, jumping about with a tail painted 'fool,' rather keen on the insight that lies beneath.

[after a beat, she tilts her head slightly in his direction.] I doubt it's the worst impression you've had painted of you, is it?

Oh, well, that's not so bad.

[Grinning, Morgan points a finger at her, sighting along it with one eye as the other winks.]

And now you know why I don't mind calling myself a dumbass. Don't get me wrong, I totally am... but there's a huge difference between not knowing that, and embracing it. Being a dumbass is a luxury I've earned, because I can totally afford to be one and still life wonderfully.

[she makes a soft, thoughtful sound at that, giving him a quiet moment of regard.]

What a curious thing it must be, being Morgan Knight.

[Laughing, Morgan flops back on the ground, heedless of dignity or decorum as he splays his arms out.]

I'd offer to let you try it out, but I'm not sure how that would work! Besides, everyone is different and everyone is the same. At the same time, we can only imagine what it might be like to be the other, and yet we're all just part of a greater whole, with so much more in common than different if we could only see it that way. God, I miss what I could do back home, the things I could show you.

[that last bit is certainly a sentiment Cecelia shares, but wouldn't think to voice. better to be less extraordinary in such a state of unknowns and build up where necessary.

still, she'll entertain the conversation for a while, since he's clearly not in a hurry to flee:] You paint well enough with words from what I've gathered; try me.

Give me some time to work and I could make you look like me. Not like a disguise or anything -- [He waves his hand in the air] -- I mean change your body. Completely and totally. Not permanently, of course, I'm nowhere near good enough for that, but you could be me in face and form. That's a lot more than you might think, when it comes to being me.

That's...novel. [she impresses some notion of concern to her tone.] And ominous at that last part. Are you going to leave that to speculation?

Oh no, it's not ominous or novel. It's something I had to learn. I mean, for example, I'm tall, in excellent shape, and male. People aren't going to mess with me without good cause. I'm less likely to be a victim of a mugging and no one's going to think to overwhelm me with force and take advantage of me. I'm human, so people don't instinctively recoil the way they do with... say, a vampire.

[That example didn't come out of nowhere, but let's not get into that now.]

My brother-in-law isn't that far from me in age. But he's been through hell in his life, and it's left its mark on him. When I compare the two of us, I can see clearly how lucky I am -- and how much being me, physically, has shaped me, compared to how being him has shaped him.

[her first thought was polymorphism...and as Morgan explains, her second thought is changeling, and her gaze sharpens as she looks for clues of exactly that. as if she could! changelings are hard to discern, even if some common tells come up over time.

it's risky to show her knowhow so readily, and so her mask of naiveté and tempered inquisitiveness remains in place as she frowns, squinting.]

I'm not sure I wholly understand. Are you talking about a magical spell that changes other people to look like you?

[She isn't going to get a single clue from his appearance! After all, being kin to werewolves has no physical tells.]

Sort of, yes. It'd be closer to say that it reshapes the body, and the end result can be all sorts of changes. So I could definitely use myself as a template. But I could've also done it less extremely, like leave hair and eye color, or.. you know, other physical attributes.

Oh, I don't like the idea of that. [she gently hugs at her arms.] Do you have any idea how long it took to get comfortable in this skin? Ye gods.

Well, there's no way I could do it to anyone involuntarily. I'm really not that good. [Not for a whole-body change like that, quick enough to actually take effect before the person got the heck away.] But you get what I mean, there. You're comfortable in your skin. Changing that changes everything!

[she makes a faint, thoughtful sound.]

Take no offense, but...I'll be just fine not seeing such a trick.

No worries, I can't do it here anyway. I don't even see a way it's possible, the way magic is divided around here. What I'd call Life is split up into animal and healing here, and that doesn't even fully cover it.

Hm. Do you suppose magics don't mesh between categories, then?

That... is a difficult question to answer, when our access to them is so limited. We can work two different magics together here, but that's like putting a puzzle together, finding a way to fit two solid objects together, instead of just casting out one blended whole.

Were it not so likely to inadvertently crater the two of us, I'd offer to test. But as it stands...I'm not very keen on it, I'm afraid. [with a passive gesture:] Find yourself a healer and see if you can't...oh, I don't know, hurl curatives a great distance or something? I don't know.

Oh, I think it would be easy, but -- you know, there's overlap, now that I think about it. Elemental magic could hurl a boulder, couldn't it? But yet hurling things is kinesis. So... the boundaries blur.

Mm. [she twiddles her quill idly, looking back toward the landscape ahead.] And what magic seems openly taught or shared varies in intensity from what I've seen. Rather chaotic, isn't it? [almost like running on fey rules.

..."rules."]

Honestly, it's a lot more regimented than the magick I'm used to. [Unsurprisingly, since 'magick' is simply a matter of believing so hard in something that the universe can't stop it from becoming true.] Though it still comes down to the person, at the core.

Do you believe what they say about the state of things, then? [she tilts her head so she can peer sidelong back down his way.] About how us using magic is supposed to be saving all manner of worlds.

[He props himself up on his elbows, the better to look back.]

Qualified, but yes. I think there are other possibilities, but I haven't seen any evidence otherwise and it seems way too complicated and relying on too many people to be a huge lie.

[it could just be a misdirect. it's what she's convinced of, anyway, as such a volume of generosity and lack of resentment from the locals feels very skewed compared to her past experience. rare is the world where good intentions are first and foremost, and with such earnest.

but she doesn't argue it, instead simply accepting his assumption with a soft sound, looking away once more.]

I wonder...how long until some are drawn who demand a bit more than is offered in exchange for this work...

[It could indeed be a misdirect. Morgan just struggles to imagine a big conspiracy which everyone is in on, and yet somehow no word has been slipped otherwise. Especially since the world is full of fairies who probably could be trusted to spill that sort of secret as soon as possible.]

Well, no one is forcing anyone to act. So if they do demand more, they just won't get what they want.

I suppose. I guess...what leverage they do have depends on how much anyone not only believes, but actually cares. It's not a stretch to assume there's some who don't mind leaving their old lives behind at all; it could be a complete reset, as far as they're concerned, mm?

[could've been for her, maybe. but. eh.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject