video — un: vast & furious.

[valeas]

( Last Emilia di Carlo was seen, she rode a thestral into the dark of night, with flowers burning in her hair and fury blazing in her eyes. Tonight, she looks somber and composed, her resolve no less steely for it. She sits at her desk, hair half braided into a coronet and the other half down in loose waves.

She's dressed practically, unlike when they're conforming to the city's fashions. )

I've gathered some donations from the nobility.

( Influence with the gentry (and their connections) helps, as does rich guilt. Emilia still takes great issue with everyone else being left to fend for themselves during the siege, but she decided to channel that anger into something productive. People need resources, not the consequences of her temper.

She'll need remember to do so on behalf of Vannozza. The siege doesn't, unfortunately, put an end to why they're here. )

I invite anyone that would like to help with its distribution to join me. Furthermore —

( Her brow furrows at the sudden commotion outside. The desk is close enough to the balcony that anyone who's decided to listen in is privy, as well. Much like the chimney debacle, really, except these are no protesters. No, these are two gentlemen suitors. And they bring ... poetry?

It would seem harrowing experiences turn already insensible men into impulsive brutes. Impulsivity further prompted by the fact Emilia, catch of the season, has yet to accept any offer. She's betrothed to someone else, in truth. Though at the moment, she'd like to eschew the presence of any and all men.

Forever.

The clearing of a throat: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day — "
"Look around, you complete and utter toadstool. It is far from summer, and you cannot propose when I intend to do so."
"The lady will not marry you. I am the one she favors — "
"No, I shall be her heart's truest desire in the end."
"Dear man, you know little of desire, if all rumors prove true."
"You besmirch my character! There is only one way to solve this — "
"Yes. Y e s - !"
"We duel at dawn!"

Emilia closes her eyes.

Draws in a deep breath. Prays to the goddess of strength and reasoning: may she keep a moon daughter from committing any violence this evening. )

You'll excuse me.

( Before she ends the transmission, a third unaffiliated voice can be heard, wailing in the distance, "I'm so alone." )



( ooc: this post is for their network only, but the commotion outside is, of course, free game for anyone to catch wind of.
this post is open all month. there's no such thing as too late.)

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[in_theworks]

[and now, as promised and in the worst British Accent he can muster, a reading from the book of Two Princes by Spin Doctors:]

Marry him, marry me
I'm the one that loves you baby can't you see?
Ain't got no future or family tree
But I know what a prince and lover ought to be
I know what a prince and lover ought be~!

[he's not really interested in Emilia's hand -- he's interested in heckling the idiots that are. considering they immediately turn on him, yelling at him to get his own balcony, it seems to be working, too. he, uh. he might need to climb up to your balcony before too long, Emilia, if they start getting violent. he's not really the dueling type]

[valeas]

( Before Emilia was wrenched (pun only a little of intended) from her realm(s) and unceremoniously brought to this one, she'd been a step away from becoming Queen of the Wicked. Power and strength is everything in the Seven Circles. Relinquishing hers for even a moment would make her an easy target.

And she's been trying, so very hard, to toe the line while not losing a shred of it: her power, her sense of self, her self-respect.

Upon hearing a baffling song that she's absolutely never heard before, humiliation blooms across her cheeks. She feels it like a blade to her chest, eyes stinging with it. Shortly after, of course, she realizes the show is not meant for her. More than that, it's wildly successful.

The gentlemen have their attention pinned solely on Wrench, one of them outright glaring. "Who are you?"

The other squints in the dark of night. "He's that wise mentor, isn't he? For Chosen Ones."

Emilia glances down, noticing tiny cuts in her palms where her nails have dug in hard enough to break skin. She decides, in this moment, that Wrench will not need to climb up her balcony. No, she will go to him. To them. And deal with this once and for all. )

[in_theworks]

Yeah, something like that.

[here, have a smile -- or at least the facsimile of one that he doesn't really feel, projected across the mask. (^_^) he really hates this title crap. he really hates having to pretend to be a courtesan]

But, uh -- don't look now.

[looks like Emilia's coming, which is not what he had in mind, but -- hoo, boy, does she look pissed. he can work with that. maybe. hopefully. hopefully, she's not pissed at him]

[valeas]

( Wrath once said that life always deals you a hand you didn't chose. The cards can be, in fact, quite lousy. And it's how you end up playing them to your advantage that counts. She's always been a little too stubborn for her own good, too intent on following her own will and ambitions.

But not so unreasonable she'll discount honest good advice. Here is an opportunity she should not squander. An opportunity to use this egregious gaffe against them so that she may be left alone without jeopardizing the collective group for it. She does not come with mercy in her heart.

When she does bring herself to a stop before the two gentlemen and not so far from Wrench, however, her anger is not the fiery anger that drove her in the tower, flames licking at her fingertips. It is cold and unforgiving. She does not raise her voice. She does not need to. )

I will waste not your time or mine own. Know this: I will not marry either one of you. I would only marry a man I respect, and one who respects me enough not to cause a shameful scene out my balcony while a city lays in utter ruin. Know, too, my current focus is Taravast and helping those most in need, as should be for us all. ( With even more imperious bite: ) I bid you farewell.

( And she makes no move to leave, so it is clear she expects the two gentlemen to do so. )

[in_theworks]

[Wrench watches her for a moment, not particularly surprised that she's not as keyed up as she was, that day in the Tower. that was a tense situation, and as far as he knows of her beyond that, she's always had her shit together, otherwise -- especially when she told him to get fucked, stay fucked, when they first 'met']

[she's more than capable of handling herself, without him, and so he'll just stand here quietly. mostly. he may offer a few helpful hand gestures, but otherwise, he got yo' flower, bae]

[rawr. (>_-)]

[valeas]

( Emilia watches them leave, both of them half-sheepish, not quite used to being told off at all, and clearly in their cups. She huffs out a breath once it's just the two of them, and then turns to Wrench. Quieter, and with much less bite: ) Thank you.

( Wrench may try to hide it, but she's already seen gold in that heart of his. )

[in_theworks]

[he shrugs, the mask jumping back to a bright (^_^)]

Eh, it's not like I really did anything but butcher Spin Doctors.

[you're welcome, Emilia]

[valeas]

Spin Doctors?

( Emilia's brows draw together as she finally starts to make her way back inside. It shouldn't matter, not with the state of Taravast being what it is, but they are from different teams, and she doesn't want to get Wrench in further trouble. She still tries to be careful, where she can afford to be. )

[in_theworks]

[Wrench gives absolutely zero fucks about the whole teams thing. they're all in this together, regardless of who they've been assigned to kiss the ass of -- they're all outsiders here. if someone were to make a big deal of it, maybe he wouldn't say that out loud, for all that he's not stupid enough to wreck their chances of getting home (or at least getting out of the shit), but he might lie about it. for the good for Taravast, in the wake of such a tragedy or whatever]

[he will, despite all that, move to follow her, however]

Oh, uh -- they're a band, where I come from. [a beat] A group that plays music? [he's not trying to insult her intelligence, he's just not sure how modern a term 'band' is, so maybe he needs to clarify? (?_?)]

[valeas]

Ah. We come from very different worlds, you and I.

( The thought of Wrench listening to the music that was all the rage in nineteenth-century Palermo does make her smile inwardly just a little, though. She says something else, and the translator fiddles with it, interpreting it in a way Wrench will best understand: ) It's catchy.

( The song will probably get stuck in her head. Thank you, Wrench. )

[in_theworks]

Ugh! You have no idea!

[look, he's probably going to have it stuck in his head for the foreseeable future. (x_x) and he can't even pull it up on his phone and listen to it, since sometimes that works to get rid of an earworm, seeing as how this place has no internet]

[he's absolutely going to die and he did it to himself. please catch him as he swoons -- or pretends to, anyway]

[straightening after a beat, whether or not she does step into 'help', he blows out a breath. and more seriously:] Man, I miss just being able to pull something up on Nudle. [his world's Google analogue] Sitara -- this girl I kinda worked with? She had playlists for, like, everything. Breaking and entering, blowing shit up, fighting back against the man.

[just plain vibing. everything]

[valeas]

( He has an energy to him that is infectious, and she smiles inwardly as she certainly goes on to 'catch' him, and to listen with attentiveness, never mind that she's no idea what Nudle is. Her eyebrow raises in quiet amusement, a feat, truly, after what just transpired. )

She sounds like one of a kind.

( Her smile fades a bit. On a more serious note, too: )

I miss my home, as well. Not that we had this Nudle you speak of.

[in_theworks]

She really is.

[they'd probably get along famously, too. Sitara's also the kind of woman who doesn't take shit from anyone. she, too, probably would have climbed down from the balcony, to drive the assholes away. and maybe that's why he took to Emilia so quickly, despite their starting dissonance -- because she reminded him of Sitara. it took them a little bit to warm up to each other, too]

[but anyway]

And Nudle's -- oh, man. I'm not even sure how to start explaining that, because like, you don't have the internet, either, do you? [just based on her speech patterns, that would be his guess, anyway. (x_x)]

[valeas]

( The fondness in his voice is unmistakable. If the mirrors in the tower have taught Emilia anything, it's that one must never be too quick to jump to conclusions about someone. She's grateful, in retrospect, they've overcome the initial tensions between them. He is a rather wonderful person to know.

And eerily good at scaling and climbing things.

She looks a bit rueful at his question, but there is a glint of intrigue in her eye. Emilia is ravenously curious. When she still possessed the dream of becoming a green witch, she loved experimenting with new flavors from abroad, to experience their cultures through food and seeing how well they fused together.

That dream died along with Vittoria. But here, she gets to learn about an entire new world. )

I'm afraid not. I'm from Sicily. It was the nineteenth century, if that gives you a point of reference.

[in_theworks]

Oh, hoooooooly shit. [excuse him a moment, Emilia. (O_o)] Did America even exist, in the nineteenth century?

[yes. yes, it did and he seems to realize that quickly enough -- too quick, in fact, for her to actually answer that question. he's still a little surprised, though. (o_O)]

Okay, uh. Well, I'm from 2013 America, from a state called California.

[he's less sure if California existed, then. it did as of 1850]

[valeas]

I see.

( She does not see. 🤯

It's difficult to process the sheer discrepancy of their timelines alone. But if she was able to wrap her head around demons, and netherworldly creatures, and undead beings ravaging a land they were brought to against their own will, she can wrap her head around this. )

And the internet? ( Is Nudle a place in California? )

[in_theworks]

Wow, okay -- uh ...

[(O_o) crap, how do you explain the internet to someone who has no idea what electricity is, much less a computer? (?_?)]

So, when I'm from there's, like, this -- this global information and communication network called the internet. [that's a good start, right?] Part of it's kinda like the network here -- you can send messages to people all over and stuff, right? Like I could talk to you in Sicily, from California, if you were from my time.

But then there's also, like -- if I wanted to know how bagpipes worked, I could use the internet to find that out, too.

[valeas]

( Emilia had been wondering if it was something like the network they depend on, except far more large scale.

At his confirmation, she tries to imagine it. All that information at the reach of her fingertips. Not that she would've gotten a lot of results if she'd typed in how to summon and subsequently kill a demon prince of the underworld using dark magic. Details. )

How incredibly useful. It sounds like its own brand of magic.

( It's how she's always felt about books, in truth. She'd had not the money to explore the world nor was she able to engage with it safely. Books had been a refuge to a child once afraid, a safe haven to a young woman who once preferred to be cautious than tempt fate. )

[in_theworks]

It's great.

[god bless the internet (^_^)] I'm not sure about magic but ... [he pauses, shrugging. yeah, okay, maybe he can see it] Eh, if that's the metaphor we're going with, then my magic sure doesn't work here.

Back home, I knew how to manipulate the internet or whatever.

[valeas]

( ... Interesting.

One can see the gleam in Emilia's eye as she picks up the pendant that allows them to understand each other at all. A marvel, certainly. But she is a skeptic to her core and growing more paranoid, besides. ) What do you think of these? Are they truly safe?

( If he can manipulate this ... internet, then perhaps he has some insight into this network she lacks. )

[in_theworks]

[he laughs, he can't help it, though the sound is at odds with the mask's display (>_<)]

Yeah, no, I'd bet my left nut they're not. [a beat] Like if this is anything like the internet, if whoever created them didn't actively put a way of spying on us in there, there's probably some flaw in the magic that leaves room for someone else to put a backdoor in later. Nothing's perfect.

[not code, not magic, not people]

[valeas]

No, it isn't.

( A low admission.

Emilia's careful with the network, only using it for conversations she can ultimately live with other people overhearing. Of course, it's not always that simple, even when she's face-to-face with others: ) But we wouldn't understand each other without them.

( At least, not yet. Maybe they can teach each other. )

[in_theworks]

Yeah, not so much.

[but!]

But one of the guys I know here has been trying to collect, like, a handful of phrases that'd be good to know in an emergency from everyone. [a beat] So, like, 'yes' 'no' 'we need to get the fuck out of here' 'it's safe here.' That kinda thing.

[which is both super neat and useful. he wonders, from there, how hard it would be to piece together a whole language based on all their languages]

[valeas]

( It's ... very useful. It's a good idea.

Her stomach tightens with an uncomfortable consideration. )

With the things we've learned as of late, we might need phrases to identify each other and ourselves, as well. ( ways to determine that they're really speaking to each other, and not someone that's possessed their body and mind. It's a magic she wasn't familiar with, not until Tarvast.

But they'll need to reckon with it. )

[in_theworks]

Ooh! Ooh! Can mine be 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'?

[(^_^) pretty please?]

[he's only half-kidding with that, too. it's a little bit of flippancy, to distract from the fact that he had the same thought and that that's horrifying, but also, that would genuinely work, he thinks. so far, no one he's met here would get that reference, so]