#this is what happens when we squabble over carriage disputes... we all suffer

[ratatatastic]

the day matinee hockey games are streamed exclusively on roku is the day i finally leave this earth

[arcanacouncilrp]

       event two     -      may 15 - may 28

                      first.

      28 August 1691 — It has been twenty-seven days since everything changed. The disappointment, the rage, the betrayal, the sense of loss; all of it has faded into a dull, thumping, pure loneliness. I’ve been travelling aimlessly for over three weeks; it’s the only thing that’s kept me sane. Carriages and ships pale in comparison to my old methods of travel, but all that’s gone now. If I’m to be one of the people now, I suppose I’m meant to suffer their wearisome normality.

     I landed in Norway early this morning, after bartering a ride from a fishmonger. The crew was polite as one would expect, but it hardly made up for the smell. The locals seem used to it; I received no odd glances or upturned noses, but I also didn’t stay in town for long. The forest felt much more inviting than their taverns. Loneliness is my curse. An eternity of it. Perhaps the others were lucky.

     After I settled in a clearing and built my fire, I heard a rustle in the trees. A clowder of long-haired cats emerged. They had stone cold eyes; hard-looking. Feral. Perhaps they smelled the fish I’d made a bed of on my voyage against the flames. They studied me, and I didn’t falter. Once, I’d have been able to speak with them, but those days have passed. One broke the line, overcoming its hesitation. It continued to hold my gaze as it made its way over, slowly and with a predatory gait. When it was close enough, I offered it some salted meat. It didn’t trust me, but hunger won out. No sooner had it plucked the meat from my fingers did it disappear back into the depths of the trees. The other followed with it.

                                                               I was alone again.

     But an interesting idea lingered with me long past the sun setting behind the leafless branches. The Ancients left me my creation powers. Why don’t I… create? Why hadn’t I thought of it before? My companion didn’t have to be human. Witches had familiars once, right? That’s all I am now, isn’t it? 

     It took a lot out of me, bringing him into being. But he’s beautiful. A spitting image of my mystery friend that had visited in the afternoon. He also enjoyed the salted meat, and the warmth the fire had to offer. He told me his name was Balfour. Who was I to argue?

                               Perhaps I won’t be alone anymore.

                     before.

     Two weeks have passed since the initial discovery of Feiyan’s absence, as well as the flicker in magical gifts. Not to mention the grab for power. Emotions have calmed over the short time, but the weight of it all has hardly dissipated. No one has really moved on, but some seem more intent on finding answers than others.

     Death has taken to his dog form, using its keen sense of smell to search The Lair. He goes floor by floor, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches the suites. Something incredibly old and remarkably feline fills the air, emanating from beyond Feiyan’s door. Knowing Billy rarely leaves the library, Death barges in, coming upon a feral-looking grey cat with long hair and bright teal eyes. They stare intently, and Death starts barking.

     The Tower and The Empress both run in, hopes high, and Justice follows not long after. “Oh, great,” Justice mutters sarcastically, a sentiment The Tower shares.

     “What have you morons done with her?” the cat replies in a gravelly voice that shocks only Death. The Empress calms the room, but not before giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ears and a small smile.

     “Welcome home, Balfour,” she whispers. A voice rings from the doorway as Death shifts back to his human form. The Fool, having heard the commotion, appears to ask what the hell is going on. Justice suggests they convene The Council.

     Balfour sits in the middle of the Council table, everyone else in their seats, listening as intently as one can to a talking cat. He explains what he is: a creation of Feiyan’s. Who he is: her oldest living friend. How he is: pissed at the idiocy of the group in front of him. The Empress speaks up, interrupting what she knows could be a barrage of insults from the irascible cat she grew up with.

     She explains that Balfour lived with them when she was young, The Tower quickly chiming in that he is far from a friendly house cat. The Empress continues: he often came and went just as Feiyan did, but one day he left and did not return. That was nearly seventeen years ago. Balfour interrupts her then, telling the group he has his own thoughts and agenda just like the rest of them, and had some things he had to figure out.

     “About two weeks ago, I knew something was wrong. We’re connected, Feiyan and I. I’m a piece of her soul, and I could feel her in pain. So I ask once more: what did you imbeciles do? Where is she?”

    That hushes the room, but only for a moment. Questions begin flying. Feiyan is hurt? She’s alive? Where is she? How do we get her back? Balfour hisses to silence them, his frustration - and concern - is clear. He tells them the only reason he has returned is to find out where she is and why the scent of danger lingers in the air around them, and until a clue surfaces, he has no information for them beyond this.

     “And what have you all been doing in her absence?” he sneers, piercing gaze leveled around the table at all of them. No one answers immediately, forcing The Empress to speak up and explain their dispute over decision-making power.

     With that he leaps off the table, making no effort to hide his irritation at the Councilors. “You are supposed to be the best of the best,” he tells them, his tone an uncanny reminder of the way Feiyan spoke, “yet you squabble like children as the world decays around you. Either put yourself to good use, or do not bother me.”

     Tail held high, he’s out the door, ending the meeting without another word. The Councilors look at each other for a moment longer before breaking away. Some go looking for Balfour, desiring to aid him; some seek out friends for comfort, or to laugh off the absurdity of the whole situation.

                                            They have no idea how outrageous the day is yet to be.

                    now.

     Hours later the Councilors begin to notice their magic behaving strangely, though most write it off as their nerves getting the better of them. 

                                                                                 Until they can’t.

      Death finds The Fool lost in his fears over the Council’s permanence; attempting to cheer him up, Death takes the form of a kitten, barking insults and orders just as Balfour had. Quickly, though, he realizes the problem on his hands. He can’t change back - or at least, not to the form he is trying to take. The Fool might have laughed at him, but his own control over his powers wavers, sending him to new places at random as if he was a child once again.

      Wheel of Fortune has never had this many unlucky things happen to him in a row before, which naturally leads him on an ill-advised adventure to test his newfound bad luck. Things are supposed to go his way always, so what could possibly be wrong? On his little adventure he gets caught in the crosshairs of The Chariot’s malfunctioning magic, and suddenly his feet leave the ground. Frustrated by her loss of control, The Chariot is already doing everything she can to regain it, but Wheel of Fortune’s attitude does nothing to improve her concentration.

     The Devil is not trying to summon anything, yet things from fleeting thoughts keep appearing around her. It isn’t that big an issue - the clean-up may not be fun, but she can only do so much to help with that - until her rogue powers put The Tower right in her path. Having fought hard over the years to master his gift, he hasn’t accidentally set anything on fire… yet. Mostly. But the harder the Councilors fight their loss of control, the worse it gets.

     Judgement, who had taken to the astral plane to get away from the pandemonium of magical talking animals, cannot seem to find his way back. The Magician finds him in a trance and moves to shake him awake, but the contact slams her spirit into the astral plane with his, leaving them caught between worlds with seemingly no escape, and their bodies abandoned and empty laying in The Lair.

      A storm closes in on The Lair, so The Star goes out to take control and let it pass, but his powers only seem to make it worse, whipping the rain into a thundering frenzy. Strength catches a glimpse of his struggle through a window and runs out to help. Big mistake. Combined, the two of them valiantly fight against the storm they are feeding - and begin to worry they run the risk of the Potomac rising and flooding their home.

     The High Priestess is not just drowning in others’ emotions - no, his predicament only gets worse. Happening upon The Emperor in the library, the two quickly discover that neither of their powers are working properly. The Emperor bursts into uncharacteristic tears, her frustration at the day’s events amplified by The High Priestess’ out of control powers. She tries to will him to turn it off, but her persuasion doesn’t work quite as planned, and her magically-induced mood swings do not get any better.

     At first, The Hanged Man doesn’t notice a huge difference in his powers. He’s still moving faster than everyone else, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Until he struggles to control his own speed, that is. One minute he’s darting around, the next it’s as if he stepped in quicksand. He seeks out the nearest person he can find for help, but The Hermit is having troubles of her own. Her visions overlap with her present, and she’s struggling to wade through what is real and what isn’t, but she hears The Hanged Man’s voice and knows she has to help, if she can.

      The Moon finds herself ejected from her sleep much too early, and in her annoyance she seeks out The Hierophant in the infirmary for something, anything, that could explain her problem and make it go away. A new issue quickly arises: The Hierophant cannot seem to keep her eyes open very long around The Moon, and every time she dozes off, her dreams start up loud and chaotic, drowning out both their worries for the moment.

    Justice and Temperance are arguing when they leave the meeting, the former not trusting Balfour at his word due to past history, while the latter attempts to point out they’re being stubborn. The Sun follows close behind attempting to mediate but failing miserably. What actually works is the three stumbling upon an unconscious and seemingly unwakeable Judgement and The Magician. Worried, the three take the bodies to The Hierophant, hoping she can wake them, but as she herself struggles to stay awake, she discovers her healing powers are not responding.

     The Empress had gone to her garden just after the meeting for peace and comfort, and for a while she was left unbothered. Then, her plants begin to grow. And grow. And grow. Utterly out of control, she tries to stop them, but her powers do not respond as they should. The Lovers, upon seeing the commotion, runs to help, but she actually makes matters worse. She can’t control her mimicry, let alone the chlorokinesis, so between the two of them, they become trapped in a maze of greenery.

     Mayhem reigns well into the next day, until a subtle shift in the air restores everyone’s control. The storm ceases, objects stop floating, and The Lair is (mostly) untouched by flame. No one is any closer to discovering what caused the malfunction, but Balfour reappears to confirm one thing: this cannot have been a good sign for the future.

Happy plot day, councilors, and we hope you enjoy Balfour! He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Our first event was such a lovely success, and we were so thrilled to read through everything you all came up with. Although this new event is starting, feel free to continue any threads you are still working through from the first event. For this event, the magical malfunction lasts approximately 24 hours, so your threads with event partners can occur anytime between the afternoons of May 15th and May 16th. This event will last about two weeks through May 28th, so you are also encouraged to begin reactionary threads about the power fritz and Balfour himself! We have more in store for you with this sassy cat, so stay tuned and happy plotting!