un: whitewolf | video

[northerndragon]

[A young man, bearded and perhaps overly serious, addresses the party.]

If we haven't spoken before, I am Jon Snow. I have traveled with this party for two years, now. Some of you can say the same, or have traveled longer; some of you have just joined the group in recent days.

We've seen a number of places. Most were under one sort of threat or another from the Dead. A few were places of rest, or ways of travel.

I know that if I go back to where I came from, I may not be able to hold on to any wisdom I might be so lucky to gain here, but there's something I wonder about from time to time. I would hear your answers, if you have any.

The cities we've been in... what would you have done if you had been ruling them? How would you have answered the same challenges, faced the same threats?

I have been king of a land and a castle which will face the Dead in its own time. I ask because I do what I can to help my people. I hope it is not so easy to stray as some in this world have made it seem. But I understand their fear and their need better than most.

[He is finished speaking, so he presses his lips together and nods.]

[OOC: super casual post, don't worry about format too much. Assume Jon is matching anything you use.]

un: sizhui, voice

[paperbutterflies]

After the message about being bored, I was thinking that, perhaps, I am better at listening to and remembering stories than telling them. Words don't necessarily come out... interesting when I try to give them back.

However, perhaps some music can alleviate boredom, too.

I know there are others who play the qin here, and all who know music well, please forgive me any mistakes.

[ And there will be some guqin music from Sizhui, for anyone who is interested in listening.

He does not imbue this will spiritual energy, unsure still how that might interact with the curse around them.

But the music itself tells stories. Stories from back home, and even stories from this world. He has been here for nearly three years, and while some of this time he did not have his instrument, he has been working on practicing for that time, and so here come melodies. Some that he has learned before, but now played with stories in mind, and some that he is cautiously weaving himself.

The qin's music is not loud, and it rarely lends itself to humorous. He tries to keep it from being sad as much as possible, though few stories from this world at least have ended up ... well. Some did hold hope, he believes. ]

un: ut malum pluvia | audio

[somebadnews]

( How it started... )

[ Five clears his throat as he turns to the network. How to put this without admitting that he threw a tantrum and might have broken someone... possibly more than someone... several horrifically-cursed-people into pieces. For someone who can be fairly blasé when it comes to murder, this seems a little too much like insult to injury. ]

You're all pretty handy, aren't you? [ God, starting with a compliment. They have to know something is wrong, but he doesn't know how else to handle this weird problem. Maybe he should have written this down to not give himself away, but he's already started now. ] We have any carpenters, or... maybe some metal workers? I need something repaired.

A few somethings. I'm sure you can take a break from the mystery to do a mundane task. Call it a favor. [ Something crunches under his foot and he winces. That one may be a lost cause. ] ...Thanks.

[ And if anyone happens by his room (or heard the ruckus and went to investigate), he's at least trying to sort out the mess he made, and trying his best not to notice the statue looking much more accusingly in his direction. What's worse is he can't get a broom without worrying it'll snitch on him. Fucking magic castles... ]