FEBRUARY INTRO LOG( FEB 16TH & 17TH )
february 16 ↴ INTRO: NEW WANDERERS' ARRIVAL! Our batch of new Wanderers wake this morning, as all new Wanderers have before, on a plush bed with a mild but lingering sense of recent disorientation. Frigg greets them as per normal, though rather than outright escorting Wanderers to the front doors this time, she and Sigyn allow the Wanderers time and space to leave their bed, meet the pantheon, and even depart the palace at their own pace - but not without a warning. All Wanderers must choose a deity to tether to before dawn the next day, or else one of the gods will choose them. This is of grave importance, as that's precisely how long the magic giving them form is able to last untethered before the Mother's own magic overwhelms it.
(Though the gods are more than willing to allow Wanderers to leave, it's worth noting that many a castle servant - natives, born in this land - might see fit to intercede and insist on the choosing of a god before Wanderers step off the Gladsheim Palace grounds.)
Stepping outside, you're greeted by an almost bright and sunny day... Undermined thoroughly by a sharp, biting wind that permeates any small gap in your clothing. I bet the gods might give you a sweater, if you ask. It probably won't even look that absurd, depending on which one you ask. A trail of what seems like stringless balloons float at eye level from just outside the palace door, guiding Wanderers down the path to a notice board just outside the palace grounds. On this notice board, Wanderers find a brief handwritten guide to accessing the city map on their cuffs, specifically denoting the little colored house icons ( ⌂ ) to help Wanderers make their way to each god's housing.
Also on this board appear to be a variety of job listings, for those who want to get more involved in Asgard as a whole. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? There's more than enough time for that once you've chosen a god to tether to in the first place. february 17 ↴ GOD CURSE: CHARACTER-BUILDING WITH SKADI. The storm brewing within Skadi is hardly a secret. She was impatient during the gods' supposedly unanimous address, and in the days to follow, Sigyn (with all her desperately good intentions) tried to balm the irritation but only abraded the goddess further still. She attended the Wanderers' arrival purely by the letter of her duty and swept back out the doors as soon as that duty released her, and since then she's been holed up in her temple, her pointy-faced statues positioned just outside as sentinels meant to intimidate mortals away.
They dared to tell her that she does nothing. Nothing for the Wanderers, that is. Nothing to help them grow and self-actualize, as if these 'Wanderers' are so much more important than Asgard itself, which weakens by the day as her fellow gods fling their magic about to overprotect the Wanderers, or even to satisfy their whims. The consensus to draw back some of that wasteful protection would have pleased her, if she weren't so thoroughly fixated on the slight that preceded it.
They want her to help the Wanderers self-actualize? So be it. There's no better way, truly, than to confront and overcome the ways in which you're flawed.
So the morning after arrival day, many Wanderers wake up with a stinging, itching spot somewhere on their body. Maybe their arm, maybe their back, maybe their throat. In that spot, as it turns out, is a set of words in a deep ruddy brown (almost like old blood) under their skin as if tattooed in place. But these aren't just any words - they prey directly into the Wanderer's fears, their regrets, their insecurities, and their mistakes. They're facing down some of the worst things they've ever thought or feared about themselves.
The other gods, of course, are eager and willing to try to relieve the poor Wanderers of these cursed marks... but they find that it's not quite so easy. Wanderers who seek a god's removal of the words find that not only do the words remain, but a new set appears: Flees the truth.
But that's fine = For most Wanderers, these words disappear on their own in a day or two. A handful of unlucky souls find that their marks linger indefinitely, or seem to disappear but return at truly inopportune occasions down the line.
MOD NOTES This is the February intro log and Skadi's curse, our mini-event for this month! Skadi's curse is is entirely opt-in - not all Wanderers are affected - and is detailed more fully in the 'This Month's Events' section of the February Bulletin, and you're welcome to direct any follow-up questions to the Bulletin's mod questions top-level. You've also likely noticed that god jobs are now live! The listings themselves can be found here (same link as within the 'arrival' prompt), with a brief FAQ featured over here. |
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She clasps Jim's hand and pulls him in close. "Thank you for building us a place to live. I'm already so happy to be here." Finally, she would get some privacy and a comfortable room to call her own. Mary tilts her face up in order to kiss Jim's mouth.
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"You're welcome," he smiles down at her. She doesn't have to thank him, really, he did it for himself as much as her, but he is glad to have made her life here a little better. And selfishly, he does like having her around more often.
She still always surprises him a little when she kisses him so spontaneously, but he certainly doesn't mind. He tips his head down to returns the gesture, cupping her face with his free hand, content to let the contact linger for a few good seconds before he's pulling away.
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Between the two of them, it only takes one trip to bring all of her clothing and small personal items to the new house. They place them down in her room and Mary, unthinkingly, removes her shawl and places it on the bed.
"I do hope Peter and Gamora aren't offended by us moving out," Mary says as she starts to put her clothes in the wardrobe.
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"Of course they aren't. They'll be glad for us, I'm sure," he says. Well, Peter will be, anyway. Jim's still not sure if Gamora likes him all that much.
He's carrying some of her clothes to put away when he spots those letters just poking out of the hem of her dress, and reaches out thoughtlessly to try and see what's on her skin. "You've got something there..."
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Mary sighs, realizing that her reaction was a bit rash and that it only probably made Jim want to know more. She returns to him and, after debating for a second, starts to unbutton a few of the buttons on her dress so that she can slide it off her shoulder and reveal what's written there: MEAN in bold, black letters.
"It appeared this morning," she says sadly.
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"You, ah... you weren't the only one," he says, waiting until she's looking at him again, then he turns around, lowering his turtleneck enough to show the word CHEAT tattooed boldly onto the skin.
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"Is that something that people called you?" she asks. "Because this..." Mary points to her shoulder. "...I've been called that my whole life."
For whatever reason, it's making her feel emotional and she takes a shuddering breath, trying not to cry. As concerned as she might be about Jim's marking, she's worried that he's just as concerned about hers.
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"Oh, yes. Rather officially, too," he tilts his head, pressing his lips thinly. "There was a hearing and everything, I was very nearly kicked out of the Academy."
It's a horrible thing to say that he was lucky that there was an attack that cut that hearing short when so many people died during that crisis, when a whole planet was destroyed, but... truth is he probably wouldn't be Captain today if it weren't for that.
He forgets all about that when he notices how shaken she is, and he rests his hands on her arms instead, trying to get her to look up at him.
"Hey, Mary, come on. You're not letting this get to you, are you? It's just one of those stupid god curses, I'm sure it'll be gone in no time."
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Mary puts a hand up to her mouth, trying to keep it together. "It just... it looks so horrible on me. It ruins my skin." The tears start to flow down her cheeks and she wipes at them. It's so much more than the fact that it's ruining her skin, but maybe she can try and downplay it without actually having to talk about why it hurts her so much.
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This all reminds him he should still talk about what he's been up to in Asgard, though. While they weren't that serious at first, Jim did still have a couple of encounters after they had their first few dates. Not really anymore now, but he doesn't want her to think he's hiding something from her.
For now, however, he focuses on her, wanting to help soothe her distress. "It doesn't. Your skin is beautiful as ever," he assures her, even though he knows that's not the only thing that's upsetting her. He places a hand on her shoulder, sliding it back to cover the word, while with the other he cups the side of her face. "Do you want to talk about it?"
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"I don't want to be mean," she says with a shuddering sigh. "I just... found it hard to have a smile on my face when one naturally didn't want to be there. I got called cold for that."
She furrows her brow. What did she have to be sad about?, people would wonder. Or, What a snob. Mary wouldn't deny that she had snobbish tendencies, but often her moods were just how she was feeling that day, not because she was being rude to someone else. She doesn't like being seen as mean or cold, but that is apparently what a lot of people think of her.
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He's reminded of Spock, vaguely. And even Bones. Neither of them were very expressive like that-- or rather, Bones was expressive, just in a more grouchy and scowling way. And he could probably count with the fingers of one hand how many times he saw Spock smile. That never felt jarring to him, nor did he ever think they were mean or unpleasant because of it.
"I don't think you're mean," he assures her. "For what that's worth. And I don't think you should be smiling when you don't feel like it. Has anyone here ever called you mean?"
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Mary wraps one of her arms around him, pulling herself close to him. "Women of my station... we're supposed to smile, be kind and gracious and warm, throw parties, help charities, raise children, look perfect... I know that it's not the expectation here, but it's a lot to grow out of."
At least with Jim she hasn't felt like she's needed to be anything but herself. He has a way of making a person feel comfortable and loved. They probably wouldn't have ever gotten together if he hadn't convinced her that it would work.
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He brushes his fingers down her face, tipping her head up to meet his eyes. "So that word is a lie. You're lovely, Mary. What can I do to help you forget all about that?"
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"You could kiss me," she suggests, an innocent look on her face. Kissing him always makes her feel better.
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Cupping her face, he steps in a little closer, then dips his head in to press his lips to hers, slow and gentle. Things have never gotten very heated between them so he doesn't push to deepen the contact, even though he is more than happy to let it linger for as long as she wants to, lips brushing and sucking gently at her own.
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His arms tight around her, he pulls her closer, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress on her back. His head tilts and he swipes his tongue into her mouth, deeper and bolder, at least until they have to break the kiss for air if nothing else.
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She's struck with the sensation of wanting to do more, a desire and a need for him. Maybe it's reckless, but she's feeling raw after discovering the branding this morning. Jim's love and comfort mean so much right now.
Mary pulls back a little bit to look at him, eyes wide with want.
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His hands ease their hold on her dress, smoothing down the fabric. "Do you... want me to leave?" He's not going to try to make a move just yet, not until he's sure that's what she wants. He promised himself he wouldn't push for more until she was ready and he's absolutely sticking to that, no matter how bad he might want this.
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"I want you," Mary tells him, sliding a hand up his back to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Should we?" Mary isn't sure if it's too soon. They may have just moved in together, but they still did have separate rooms.
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The contact is a little deeper than before, more passionate. He groans softly but pull from the kiss before getting too carried away, lips still hovering Mary's as he locks eyes with hers. "If you want to," he murmurs, breath warm and eager. He knows he wants to, at least. That much has to be obvious for her.
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Mary pulls him back in, pressing her mouth hungrily to his. Before long, they're clumsily making their way to her bed.
moving (cw: sex)