The dance of flames and shadows in the street make poetry nobody's ever heard

[ofwovenstone]

WHO: Cassandra de Rolo (ofwovenstone) and OPEN
WHEN: After arrival and settling in
WHAT: Arrival and exploration
WHERE: All over the place in and around Gazin
WARNINGS: None to start, probably. Save maybe the usual warnings that naturally come with a de Rolo.


Cassandra had been moving, taking some of her things to her newly renovated warehouse-turned-home when it had hit her once more, a desperate desire to be somewhere else. A desperate longing for Rome. Not Whitestone, never Whitestone, not anymore. Just... somewhere else. Not the City, not Whitestone... But somewhere familiar none-the-less.

And then she’d quite literally gotten her wish. Found herself standing by a sign for somewhere called Gazin. In a world that reminds her far more of Rome than it does the City. Reminds her of Tal’Dorei, the parts unpolluted by her feelings for Whitestone. Familiar and she’s almost feeling... lighter for how the relief fills her chest with an intensity.

First things first, of course. Learning more of this world in which she’s found herself. Which is how she comes to Gazin, taking a room at the inn. (It turned out gold was gold, no matter the world it was from. The strangeness of her coin did draw her an odd look and she explained it away with a tale. Which either was believed or else the innkeeper had seen enough oddities that they weren’t bothered by it.)

A few careful clothing purchases help her blend in further, and she set about finding out more about this world she’s found herself in. And finding employment; she spends a great deal of time at the apothecary and the herbarium talking plants and remedies, and managed to negotiate a rather beneficial arrangement with the both of them. Without mentioning her... particular gifts. She’s going to keep them to herself for the time being. But she learned the rarer and more difficult to find ingredients and if she happens to be able to provide them regularly, well...

She spends a great deal of time at the market, leaving with a basket of produce and a few other things. Taking advantage while she has it.

She can be found late at night or early in the morning in the tavern attached to the inn she’s taken rooms in, curled up out of the way with an empty journal in front of her, where she’s sketching any number of things; the people she’s met, store fronts and buildings, or mapping out part of the city and the surrounding forest. She’s taking notes as well, in shorthand that’s not going to make sense to anyone but her (which is the point of it all).

Her ventures out into the forest are careful. Not delving too deep all at once, necessarily. But nor is she shying away from it.

Comments

Into the woods

[themerlin]

It is in the forest that Merlin walks, his eyes keen and two small sacks at his side bulging. Glancing aside as he steps from the undergrowth, he spots Cassandra, and is about to greet her when something catches his eye.

Then with a cry, he grins, and kneels, there in the dirt, not caring how it affects his clothing, as he digs into a depression in the rocks, hand coming up with a handful of white crystalline powder, eyes aglow with mirth.

"There you are, you little sneaky thing. Hiding under the mudkip and the rocks, both. No wonder they did not find you." Carefully sifted by hand, a mere handful is placed into a smaller pouch, and put into one of the sacks, and then he rises and turns, raising a hand.

"Greetings, milady. Forgive my tardiness. Finding the elements of making things is something of my nature."

[ofwovenstone]

Cassandra watches his antics with amused curiosity; he’s an odd one. But then, so is she, anymore. (If she allowed herself to think about Vox Machina, she would think that he’d probably get on well with Keyleth.)

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she replies with a smile. “Shall we?”

[themerlin]

"Aye, milady. We shall." he grinned at her, and nodded, walking with her.

"There have been tales of many beasts in the deeper woods, but not so much clear on which ones."

[dualikey]

He's no stranger to traveling to other worlds, but Sora is a stranger to staying in them. Every time they'd set out, even if the adventure itself was long, they didn't have to worry too much about carving out a niche for themselves. They'd had a ship to stay on, or to retreat to if something went wrong. There was always something to fight, a task to do, and then they'd have to be moving on somewhere else- following breadcrumbs to the next world.

This is the first time Sora's really been alone, and it's the first time he's had to figure out what to do with himself. There aren't a whole lot of friendly faces to be found on the long road that lead him here, before he'd known what Gazin was. And there aren't that many more for a stranger on the town's doorstep. At a loss, with nothing to fight and no friends there to guide him- Sora does what he knows. He fishes.

Gazin's next to a river, and Sora, an islander through and through, makes his way out before the sun is fully up even if he drags his feet the whole way. He's always been teased for being lazy and sleepy, but the fish aren't going to wait around forever and there's only so many days he can go without food before he starts to get pretty grumpy. Once his routine is established it brings him to places like this- the tavern, bright and early, hauling his catch to make the first sales of the day. There's a girl he's seen in here a few times, tucked into a corner and bent over a book. Ruled by curiosity more than ceremony, Sora dusts his hands off on his thighs and makes his way over, not necessarily trying to creep up on her, so much as he's trying not to interrupt. Of course, he ruins this the moment he opens his mouth.

"Wow, you're really good at that."

[ofwovenstone]

Cassandra is lost in the drawing, pencil moving over the journals page easily. It had taken her a long time to find her art again. After the Briarwoods... well, it had gone from her. Rome had helped her find it. Daud, and Sunny, and Magnus, James... they’d all helped her find it again. (They’d helped her find herself, too. As much as Rome had.) And now she’s drawing, painting again.

She’s aware of someone watching her, trying to discretely watch, so it’s not entirely a surprise to hear a voice speak up. She looks up from her drawing (of the signpost for Gazin, this time, her first sight upon arriving in this world), and smiles.

“Thank you.”

[dualikey]

"Mn!" It's an enthusiastic sound, largely because Sora has never learned the necessity of subtlety. For better or worse he wears his heart on his sleeve, and being in a strange place with strangers is no exception. Sora crouches a short distance away and with his body alone telegraphs his intent to settle in and watch.

"I've never been very good at it, but I have a friend who is! She kept track of a bunch of really important memories that way." His chin rests in the palm of one hand. "Is that what you're doing too? Making sure you remember it?"

[freightcars]

He's looking for work, that's how he winds up directed her way. The people in the market gossip, everyone knows everyone else, and one person leads to another leads to mentions of the girl who works at the apothecary that's often seen on her own. Carrying supplies, venturing off into the forest by herself, things maybe she could use a hand with.

He doesn't have many marketable skills, but a hell of a lot of strength and a metal arm could come in handy.

He finds her at the apothecary in the middle of the afternoon, slipping quietly through the store and toward the front - despite his height and sheer mass of muscle, he's got a quiet demeanor. Patient, subservient almost, he waits for her attention before he speaks.

[ofwovenstone]

Cassandra would be amused to learn that word of mouth has led him to her; it’s been a long time since she’s resided anywhere where that had been much of a thing. At least for anything good. It hadn’t been in Whitestone and given all that had happened it had been a rather mixed bag in Rome.

He gains her attention almost immediately, and she draws to a halt, giving him a friendly, if curious smile. Blue-grey eyes study him thoughtfully, taking in his body language, how he holds himself. The glint of metal is... interesting.