⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

[ringleaders]

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 1st - 7th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: Memories begin returning to the displaced as the fall gets chillier. How the hell did we end up here, again? Also, apparently, the fair is in town.
Warnings: Individually marked!

PORTLAND BY NIGHT↴ Memory regains will come into effect at the beginning of October, to whatever degree you've decided upon, and may be regained at whatever pace you desire from then on. For those with their full carnival memories, it will be like waking up in the body of someone else - for those with half and half, it will be like rapidly recalling sets of memories from a totally different life. Those with full amnesia will simply feel as if this is how it's always been. Unfortunately for you, memories aren't the only thing you have to deal with. The supernatural community of Portland is bustling all of a sudden - could your presence and these events somehow be related? ► THE OUTER CIRCLE: As of the start of the month, the Portland Circle of Enlightenment will find itself starting to get swarmed with members from other chapters. Most notably, it would seem that a small cabal of top mages from the North American Enlightenment Council will be making their home in Portland's HQ. For anyone but the highest of ranks, the purpose behind their visit will be unclear, but it seems like something is definitely up on a metaphysical level. The Circle will be buzzing with rumours of unique planar activity and threatening omens. It seems that it all started with an unusual flare of activity in the planetary ley-lines, starting approximately a week ago. However, even if you would usually be the type to keep tabs on such things, you will find that you oddly have no memory of observing this phenomenon yourself. ► THE ANIMAL FAIR: Good news, the fair is in town! Or, at least, it would be good news... if this was a regular fair. Instead, what's being observed is a bunch of nearly identical flyers, spread all around Portland - each of which bears only the words "THE ANIMAL FAIR", a seemingly bloody paw-print of unknown origin, and the directions to a vague forested location outside of the city. It's dated for October 7th, and all instances of its posting having been discovered with a scattering of rose petals, crow feathers, and pre-burnt matches laying on the ground around them. Most are taking this to be some kind of bizarre viral marketing campaign, but others may know better. ► THE EARTH SPIRIT: If you have connections to The Pack or any of its many variations, you'll probably hear whispers of something very odd that occurred last week - according to the elders, it sounds as if the Earth Spirit, the magical and spiritual center of the planet, has suddenly taken a wound. It's not clear why or how, but there is a fair bit of concern among spiritual types, as it is werebeast belief and nebulous magical fact that the magical forces within the earth are the source of all magic here, as well as the source of life. While many werebeasts claim to have felt the Spirit succumb, you strangely have no memory of such an event occurring. Though things do feel strange, if you know how to tap into the Spirit yourself. ► THE WAR CRY: Though Anath's rain of terror across North America lasted for the first fifteen years or so of the Severing, most independent demons have had enough time to start taking the arch-demon's relative inactivity for granted. For that first while, the warrior queen had seemed determine to rebuild an army on earth by forcing her scattered brethren into service - only for her to gradually settle down in a fortress somewhere in Texas and dig in her heels. Of course, this was too good to last - it sounds as if she and her demonic legion have begun tearing their way up the west coast, their goals remaining a mystery. Their destination, however, is almost certainly Portland.

Comments

[starseedling]

Uninterrupted, this will probably go on for a fair while. When talking is so difficult, and with so many thoughts that are so hard to express, just being held close is soothing in a way that discussing the situation can't be. Freshly cleaned and treated, the pain in his hands has lessened too, meaning that his lingering exhaustion can slowly start catching up with him.

It doesn't happen immediately, but after they hold each other for a while, Steven will eventually cry himself to sleep. His wings fold loosely around the two of them, his shuddering breaths having calmed into the regular, relaxed rhythm of sleep.

Small amounts of faerie magic stir in his wings and on the bed sheets around them - not her magic, exactly, but something different. Yet, for the moment, nothing happens.

[fragileandsoft]

Basking in their shared weariness and comfort, there's a sense of release that Greg hasn't felt in so long. He doesn't let himself fall asleep as Steven does, but some tension is finally gone, enough for his mind to drift.

As scary as things are sure to be, he's positive they can handle it now that they're together. Like they always did back in their apartment, and when they would sing together, or comfort each other after monster attacks--vampire attacks? discussions of war? discussions of her--

The magic in the air stirs around them, startling Greg out of his muddled reflections. For a moment, he's hopelessly confused and lost. They're not--where are they, again, why is... The moment passes as a waking dream, forgotten just as quickly as it came as the building magic catches Greg's attention.

Greg's hold on Steven tightens slightly as he searches for a sign of its effects, both anxious and awed. He can sense it, separate from the Queen's and his siphoned power, but unmistakably related.

[starseedling]

It doesn't take long for the effect of the lingering magic to show itself. Around the headboard and bed frame in general, tiny green seedlings will start to appear. Growing at a rate that is undeniably supernatural, but somehow more gentle than the great thorns they left at the Sanctuary, they curl and twist into a series of small rose vines.

Unlike the Queen's vines, they are small and fragile, with tiny little prickles instead of deadly thorns. It's more like flowers being painted into an art piece than something meant to be aggressive, like a weapon or an attack dog.

Soon after the plants start growing, they will begin blossoming with tiny roses, in a pink that matches Steven's wings. That same magic lingers inside of them - not like the Queen's, not quite like Greg's, but maybe something in between.

All the while, Steven breathes softly, his exhausted slumber drifting into something a little more peaceful.

[fragileandsoft]

Greg's nerves settle as he watches. He's spent a great many years with the magic of nature, seen it in a great many forms and wielded it for both destruction and creation, had it used against him and in his favor. It never stops being incredible, though.

One hand looses from around Steven, reaching out to touch and get a better look at these blooming buds.

It occurs to him that they're going to have to do some cleaning up before they move on.