Welcome to Theia!

[theianmods]

Who: Your mysterious caretakers and you
When: September 1st
Where: The Town Square
What: The welcome wagon has arrived!
Warnings: Minor gore, death




It's a white envelope that finds its way under every door, through every nook and cranny a day or two after your arrival. With the peculiar, bloodstained fingerprints lovingly applied as though they were a signature scrawled into its thin paper body, it doggedly persists--it will find you--until you open it and read the letter written ever so meticulously in fine script. It's a cordial invitation to a party hosted in your honor in the town square today. You should hurry, hurry, hurry! You wouldn't want to be late and keep your generous hosts waiting... or so says that oddly compelling feeling pressing into the back of your head. You make your way to the square, the urgent tugging feeling growing stronger the closer you get, and when you turn the corner to get a glimpse of the festivities, you find it's... not quite what you had been expecting.

The square is small, and looks rather out of general use. The fountain in the center is dusty and crumbling, and if there was ever any water in it it's long gone now. Most of the cobbled stones are broken and loose in the road. There are two long tables stocked with refreshments along either side of the walkway to the fountain, and what appears to be a small stage of some sort right in front of it, holding a large, ornate chair and a third table. The most unsettling thing, however, is the rest of the décor.

The theme is death, or so it would appear. Beside the food table to your left sits a bespectacled man wearing a scarf, but was the scarf always red, or is it only stained so because his head is hanging onto his neck by a thread? Against his lap rests a beautifully crafted cello, which appears to be missing its G-string... Oh. There it is--it's still stuck in the gashed man's neck. The poor bastard has been garrotted with the strings of his cello! Talk about hoisted by your own petard. Where his head lolls against the table, you may notice that behind those glasses, his eyes are missing.

Near the fountain is a large, wrought-iron statue of an archer, where... well, he's made his first kill, apparently. The body of a young girl with long dark hair is speared neatly through the chest by the archer's arrow, her little feet a good half a yard off the ground, now sticky with her blood. If you step closer to peer into the fountain, you'll find another body, this one a man with short dark hair, his face twisted into a mask of desperation and his gloved hands around his own throat as though he were gasping for air. Oddly, his lower jaw appears to be missing. Did he drown? There is no water in the fountain...

In the ornate chair on the platform is the body of another man, this one with his head completely removed from his shoulders. Oh... there it is, in his lap, his hands carefully arranged in his wild black hair. Wait, it seems there are too many hands, though! A second body dangles from a large tree that looms over the square, the rope frayed and dirty where it is wrapped around another man's neck, a strangely peaceful smile on his face, blue though it is. His hands rest atop the first man's, as though making certain the severed head remains still.

On the table in front of the chair rests a chest, its lid wide open and a glittering bounty inside.



If you peer inside, you will see a collection of eggs! Scaly, cool to the touch, and about the size of a football, they come in several colors. There is a note pinned to the inside of the trunk's lid--


Do you take an egg, as the note suggests? Dare you? (Dare you not?)

That pressing feeling in the back of your head has left you now, now that you are here to be welcomed to the city, now that you are here in the presence of your caretakers, but it is difficult to take comfort in the relief from the compulsion when surrounded by so much destruction. Who has done this to the faithful sentinels of the city? Who has killed the Watcher, the Interloper, the Guardian, the Nightingale, and the Keeper? Why have they been left here, at your welcoming home party?

Before you can turn to ask your neighbor, before you can wonder any further, a sound breaks the silence--a terrible, wet crunching noise like a sheet of ice breaking under your feet. You turn over your shoulder to see that it isn't anything so simple as ice. In the middle of the square is one final body, a body that wasn't there but a moment ago. She is small, thin, with dark hair and eerily pale eyes wide in terror. You know this girl, she met you on the elevator, expressed pleasure that you had been found (had you been lost?), and welcomed you home. Where did she come from? It's as though she simply... fell out of the sky! The Dreamer now dreams forever.

As you turn to survey the carnage all around you, a pleasant chiming sound seems to fill the air. It would seem that your mirror has a message for you! Upon inspection, you will find a new icon on the main viewscreen.


If you touch the icon, it will take you to a new application. Welcome to the Task Board! Here you will find a multitude of errands you can run for... whoever is running the city, now. Boy, what a way to announce things are under new management!

Welcome back to Theia, wayward children. Please enjoy the refreshments--watch out for the Nightingale's eyes, they may have fallen into the punch--get reacquainted with your friends and neighbors, and do take good care of those eggs. Or else...

Comments

[saltysanta]

London? It's probably just imported--!

[Just. London from well over a hundred years ago, who never had the opportunity to eat expensive imported goods or look at fancy cookbooks that might have influences from foreign cuisine. Noël yelps in surprise as he's suddenly towed along, nearly dropping the basket and hurrying to keep up.]

Wh-what's so miserable about not knowing one or two dishes?!

[gottastaycalm]

[ Lambo looks at him. One or two dishes... is that right. ]

What about bruschetta? Frittata? Risotto? Gnocchi?

[ Surely, he at least had those. They were all common dishes like ravioli. ]

[saltysanta]

Eh.....

[Noël furrows his brow, trying to remember back when he'd roamed the streets of London and listened to the chatter of the crowds; clearly his life is even more miserable than Lambo first thought, even if he can at least offer an answer this time. He hadn't been able to understand foreign languages back then, after all.....]

I think I've heard of fritatta? Probably from the immigrants.

[gottastaycalm]

Yare, yare. At least that's something. [ He picks up some ricotta made from sheep's milk and hands it to him. ] Why don't we start with the ravioli.

[ Then, they could tackle the rest. ]

[saltysanta]

Right.....

[He drops it into the basket, glancing down at what they have so far. He dimly remembers eating noodles before, when he was young; their parents had been able to afford them, at least. Who knows what something like "ravioli" might turn out to be?]

[gottastaycalm]

[ The moves through the store like an expert picking up a fresh Italian baguette, red peppers and cannellini beans for the crostini and even eggs, basil and spinach for the ravioli filling. Growing up he spent so much time with the girls it's no surprise that he learned his way around a kitchen, coupled with his Italian roots, he's become a great cook. He's not a chef or anything fancy but he has some very nice recipes up his sleeves. Just... don't ask him to clean up after. ]

Do you want anything specific for dessert?

[ He asks him as he's leading him out, not sure if he had something he'd prefer something overly sweet or not. ]

[saltysanta]

I've barely known what you're talking about right from the start. You may as well just pick your own favorite.

[For once, Noël smiles, wry though it is; he guesses if he's surrendering to a foreigner's idea of good cooking, he may as well trust his judgment. Lambo certainly looks like he knows what he's doing, at any rate. Probably considerably better than he himself does, given he'd needed to teach himself.]

[gottastaycalm]

Yare, yare. You don't make it easy on the host do you?

[ He'd prefer to have an inkling of what he'd like but with no opinions forthcoming, he guesses his tastes are probably better anyway. ]

We can end with a sweet note at least.

[ He tells him as he leads him out of the store and back to the residential district. ]

[saltysanta]

I'm not exactly familiar with the cuisine..... The only dessert I know much about, assuming you even are from that same country, is what the hokey pokey men sell. Ice cream, I think?

[People don't actually leave them food or drink all that often in Italy, sweet or not, to be fair..... The wine is usually excellent though, if they bother. Noël follows with basket in hand, curious in spite of himself.]

[gottastaycalm]

[ Lambo grins, giving him a secretive look. ]

Is that so?

[saltysanta]

.....Yes?

[What's that look for? Should he be concerned?]

[gottastaycalm]

I'll beat it.

[ The ice cream. ]

[saltysanta]

Someone sounds confident.

[gottastaycalm]

It's not even a contest.

[ Is all he says as they round a corner and come upon the apartment complex. ]

[saltysanta]

What, are you a chef or something?

[He'd believe that a lot more readily than he would believe Lambo being part of the mafia, at any rate.]

[gottastaycalm]

[ How nice of you to think so, of course he's probably that good but no, he's much more than that. ]

No. I'm part of Vongola. The Lightning Guardian for the Decimo.

[ He says all this with flourish and pride, utterly pleased by his position. ]

[saltysanta]

[Noël stares for a long moment with undisguised confusion. Who would be part of a bunch of clams with anything resembling such pride? Or the far more likely explanation, why would you name your organization something so ridiculous?

Possibly more importantly, who would entrust this easily-spooked nitwit with the responsibility of guarding anything?]

Sounds..... important. What exactly is Vongola?

1/2

[gottastaycalm]

The top mafia family in the world.

[ Making him, a mafioso. ]

2/2

[gottastaycalm]

[ And with a puff of his chest because his position sounds so much better than the reality of it. ]

I'm more or less their vanguard.

[ Or... he's supposed to be. ]

[saltysanta]

.....You're a criminal vanguard? Seriously?

[It's not quite unadulterated disbelief in his voice, but Noël certainly sounds skeptical. He knows what the criminal underbelly of society is like. He may not have been deep in it, not like the mobsters were--an artful dodger like him only skimmed the surface--, but he knows enough. He knows the posturing and bluffs, the threats, the egos and arrogance, the vicious raw tempers and jockeying for power. He knows how quickly grown men's blustering can turn into brawls, and how quickly a simple fight on the street can turn into blood running down the gutter and a life snuffed out like a candle.

Lambo seems completely unsuited for a world that grimy and dark. Is he really so out of place there, so good at what he does that it doesn't matter what he's like the rest of the time..... or so cunning that his facade is nearly flawless?]

1/2

[gottastaycalm]

[ A smile and wink. ]

Seriously.

2/2

[gottastaycalm]

Goodness. You don't have to be afraid of me or anything. [ Because that certainly is an ego-boost. ] I only follow Tsuna-nii's orders and he's a nice guy.

Re: 2/2

[saltysanta]

Hmmmm, I suppose not.

[For now, he'll tentatively peg Lambo as the second option, until there's occasion to revise his guess. Without his boss here, Lambo can just act however he wants, huh? That seems fair.]

What's this Tsuna-nii like, then?

[gottastaycalm]

He let me stay at his house after I tried to kill his teacher, so that was nice of him. Mama always fed me lots of yummy food and candies too. She was the best.

[ Oh, but this was about Tsuna. ]

Goodness. It's been ten years since then. [ He smiles though. ] He got special permission from my Famiglia to join Vongola and I got to tag along with the rest of the guardians to all their fights. He never once left me behind. I even got to fight! It was so much fun, well except the time I spent a month in the emergency room after my first fight. But I never lost a fight after that! Tsuna-nii made the funniest face when I woke up. But he gave me lots of grape candies so I was happy. Because of him, I got to play with everyone and share in their experiences. I even got one of the legendary Vongola rings along with Gyuudon, my box animal. He's the kind of guy who doesn't leave you behind, so even though this place is scary, I know he's trying to find me and bring me back, so I'm not worried. I just have to stay safe until he gets here. I might even wiggle out my own motoped from him if I play my cards right. He's always worrying over me. I guess, he still see's me as a kid but I'm a man now just like him.

[saltysanta]

[So..... very much a tightly knit family based gang, this Vongola mafia, and one that can play nice with other families if it needs to. The leader acts as a kindly adoptive older brother to his subordinates, and everyone is involved in their turf wars, no matter how young. They care about each other enough that Lambo is confident he'll figure out a way to find him and bring him home from the outside.....

He's almost jealous, to be honest. Back then, when he hadn't been much younger than Lambo is now, it had only been him, Charles, and Pierre against the world. But his life is different now, isn't it?]

What a guy..... He must be worried sick right now. You'd better fight hard to get home to him too, huh?

[After all, he knows exactly what it's like to worry over your little brother, especially when he's being hurt and there's nothing you can do.....]