Anders (
birdhousesoul) wrote in
exsiliumlogs2012-05-08 10:44 am
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mage meeting open to all mages and mage allies
Date & Time PIE DAY. Um, fuzzy timing - post-mission, post-spamming of everyone by Martin Septim, pre-United Earth Boat Trip, pre-leadership meeting
Location: Magehouse aka Unit 205
Characters: Anyone who didn't block Martin Septim'sspam private message; anyone who considers herself a mage; anyone who likes pie
Summary: Time to get this MAGE COLLECTIVE startedso it can exist ICly before the upcoming plot kicks off
Warnings: Anders is a loudmouth, look out blood mages
INITIATIVE DOSSIER: TRANSPORT HOUSING UNIT 205 aka 'magehouse'
Unit 205 is the haunt of mages and cats. Its human residents are Martin Septim (a mage), Anders (a very loud mage), Nathaniel Howe (a Grey Warden who doesn't mind mages in certain contexts), and sometimes, unofficially, a woman named Delphine (a stalker grandma who hides under Martin Septim's bed).
Its feline residents are a large tabby of Thedosian origin, male, intact, named "Ser Pounce-a-lot" (possibly also a mage), and a grey kitten (native to Exsilium) recently rescued by Martin Septim.
Like all standard transport housing units, Unit 205 contains three bedrooms. The Thedosian residents share a room, Martin Septim has a room to himself (Delphine, officially domiciled elsewhere, does not always succeed in secreting herself within the emperor's quarters, and is usually commanded to leave when he discovers her presence), and the third bedroom has been converted into a headquarters for seditious activities and scrapbooking. Cat beds also reside in this room.
A long time ago (okay, seven or eight years), in Amaranthine, the fugitive mage known as Anders declared that the smell of freshly-baked pie was, for all intents and purposes, the smell of freedom.
Sadly, he's not much of a baker. The pies on offer at tonight's possibly-a-mage-collective meeting are not fresh, but shelf-stable and store-bought. There are, however, a lot of them. There is also lemonade, mixed from concentrate. Convenience foods are strange to the people of Thedas, strange in a good way: readily available! full of preservatives! preservatives are good!
Anders isn't sure how many people will actually come to this meeting. The word has been spread informally, and as discreetly as is possible given that he's sure the network is monitored by the Initiative. He doesn't have an agenda written up; it wouldn't occur to him to do so, being from a world where xerox machines are unknown and laser printers are right out. He has, however, appropriated a flip chart and some markers from the Initiative Hold, and set them up in a corner.
Every piece of furniture usable for sitting — desk chairs, kitchen chairs, cushions — has been dragged into the living room, and the dining room table has been pushed up against a wall to create an impromptu pie-and-lemonade buffet.
This is a far cry from gathering in the sewers of Darktown. No one wants to eat pie in a sewer.
Where Anders comes from, mages aren't always open about their identity, thanks to systemic religious persecution. He won't be surprised by anyone who shows up, and he won't turn anyone away. Even if they're just here to eat pie.
[No posting order, everything'stotally pretty much freeform (I tried to give it some structure but don't feel constrained); anyone should feel free to threadjack into any conversation unless someone marks in the subject line of the comment that you shouldn't for some reason, like "Anders and Martin are arguing in whispers about blood mages, don't interrupt" or something]
Location: Magehouse aka Unit 205
Characters: Anyone who didn't block Martin Septim's
Summary: Time to get this MAGE COLLECTIVE started
Warnings: Anders is a loudmouth, look out blood mages
INITIATIVE DOSSIER: TRANSPORT HOUSING UNIT 205 aka 'magehouse'
Unit 205 is the haunt of mages and cats. Its human residents are Martin Septim (a mage), Anders (a very loud mage), Nathaniel Howe (a Grey Warden who doesn't mind mages in certain contexts), and sometimes, unofficially, a woman named Delphine (a stalker grandma who hides under Martin Septim's bed).
Its feline residents are a large tabby of Thedosian origin, male, intact, named "Ser Pounce-a-lot" (possibly also a mage), and a grey kitten (native to Exsilium) recently rescued by Martin Septim.
Like all standard transport housing units, Unit 205 contains three bedrooms. The Thedosian residents share a room, Martin Septim has a room to himself (Delphine, officially domiciled elsewhere, does not always succeed in secreting herself within the emperor's quarters, and is usually commanded to leave when he discovers her presence), and the third bedroom has been converted into a headquarters for seditious activities and scrapbooking. Cat beds also reside in this room.
A long time ago (okay, seven or eight years), in Amaranthine, the fugitive mage known as Anders declared that the smell of freshly-baked pie was, for all intents and purposes, the smell of freedom.
Sadly, he's not much of a baker. The pies on offer at tonight's possibly-a-mage-collective meeting are not fresh, but shelf-stable and store-bought. There are, however, a lot of them. There is also lemonade, mixed from concentrate. Convenience foods are strange to the people of Thedas, strange in a good way: readily available! full of preservatives! preservatives are good!
Anders isn't sure how many people will actually come to this meeting. The word has been spread informally, and as discreetly as is possible given that he's sure the network is monitored by the Initiative. He doesn't have an agenda written up; it wouldn't occur to him to do so, being from a world where xerox machines are unknown and laser printers are right out. He has, however, appropriated a flip chart and some markers from the Initiative Hold, and set them up in a corner.
Every piece of furniture usable for sitting — desk chairs, kitchen chairs, cushions — has been dragged into the living room, and the dining room table has been pushed up against a wall to create an impromptu pie-and-lemonade buffet.
This is a far cry from gathering in the sewers of Darktown. No one wants to eat pie in a sewer.
Where Anders comes from, mages aren't always open about their identity, thanks to systemic religious persecution. He won't be surprised by anyone who shows up, and he won't turn anyone away. Even if they're just here to eat pie.
[No posting order, everything's
serious business part 2: working groups?
Are you trying to put everyone off their dessert, Anders?
"Not to single you out or anything, Bariyan, but honestly, I think it's brilliant.
"There have got to be other groups of affinity. I'm sure not all our classifications will map one-to-one against each other, but it's a place to start."
This is when he breaks out the flip chart.
"I started out asking my flatmate Martin what schools of magic they use in Tamriel. This is what he gave me, more or less — I'm not the best note-taker, so he'll correct me if I've got something wrong, of course. But the accuracy of the descriptions isn't really the point here, so bear with me a moment."
Anders shows half the first sheet; the other half is covered with a second sheet.
"Then I tried to align these with the schools I learned in Thedas. The result was ... well, here, I'll show you," and he uncovers the other half, to reveal that the list was only one column of a table he's kludged together.
"And this," he concludes, "is why I think it might not be so useful to try matching up our various systems."
He turns the page to reveal a page divided into quarters. Each quarter has a heading:
1. Offense
2. Defense
3. Support
4. Miscellaneous
"The looser the classification, the better."
1. Offense
Re: 1. Offense
Re: 1. Offense
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
2. Defense
Re: 2. Defense
Re: 2. Defense
3. Support
Re: 3. Support
Then he writes Ser Pounce-a-lot (revival).
no subject
no subject
4. Miscellaneous
you are Bariyan e Kodhiyour character has some Miscellaneous power)HEH EXCUSE ME /sidles in here
He waited until the presentation was over before edging around to meet Anders.
"I'll put myself and the maggots under 'miscellaneous', I suppose," Bariyan said, straight-faced. Without changing tone, he added, "And I'd like to speak with you about, er. Some new developments."
no subject
These pies are...okay. As everything in Exsilium, they're too rich, loaded with preservatives and sweeteners. This is probably what skooma tastes like, a over-indulgent punch to the throat that settles heavily into your stomach. A single slice seemed enough punishment.
"New developments?" Martin raises an eyebrow, soon distracted by the sight of his pet pawing at pies. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to pry," he offers apologetically with a struggling, rheumy-eyed grey kitten on his arms.
no subject
"I don't mind -- I'd be glad to talk about them with you, if you're curious." And then, realizing that they haven't met in person before, Bariyan quickly tacks on, "I'm Bariyan, by the way. Martin, correct? I believe we've spoken a few times over the network..."
no subject
no subject
"In any case..." He looks at his hand after he's taken it back, frowning. "They told us that our, er, weapons would develop when we first arrived. I didn't pay much attention at the time but now I'm wondering-- has anything happened to your powers since coming here?"
It doesn't even occur to Bariyan that another mage might've chosen something other than their magic to develop. It seems like the obvious choice to him.