Event Thirteen.

[awashmods]

To love a human face was to discover The cracks of paint and varnish on the brow; Soon to distrust all impulses of flesh That strews its sawdust on the chamber floor, While at the window peer two crones Who once were Juliet and Jessica.

t's a regular morning here in the Town. The sun isn't shining at all, snow is falling like crazy, and...there may be the sounds of shouts coming from the well, thoroughly muffled. Okay, so it's not a regular morning at all, but you'd better go help those people! The newcomers are here again. Of course, once you get to the well, you'll notice that there's actually no real help you can offer -- it's totally frozen over. As for the newcomers, well... hopefully being suddenly dumped into freezing cold water in the middle of November in a dark, damp well is your idea of a good time, because that's your life now! And that's not even taking into account the mirrors in everyone's homes that are about to wake up and start chattering... Welcome to Awash's thirteenth event log, everyone! Further information on this event can be found here at the OOC post. Please keep in mind that while this is a general event log, it is also an intro log; be sure to pay plenty of attention to our newcomers! If there are any questions, please ask them here. Thank you!

Comments

[bittybat]

[Yikes. Damian's face gently, softly sours, and his lips draw thin. He doesn't agree, and he doesn't say he knows or understands, but it's clear on his face that he does very well. Just by how he looks at her.

Dark thoughts aren't a mystery even to someone as arrogant as Damian Wayne.] I'm not going to be optimistic when there's no way to know if the color will return, or what will happen. You will just be disappointed when the town treats you unfairly.

Regardless, there's a high likelihood his color will gradually return. Keep an eye on him. Let someone know if it doesn't get better.

And don't take anyone else's color, even if they're in extreme distress. [He watches her for half a minute.] How do you feel?

[whichcraft]

Honestly...?

[That's a big concession, that "honestly". Feelings are something she's rarely, if ever, honest about; they're too personal, too useful at getting behind someone's guard to where their vulnerability really lives. But this is different. You won't end up hearing what you need to hear if you give a skewed picture of what's going on to begin with.]

...There's a part of me that keeps wanting to defend what I did. This part of me that keeps insisting it wasn't wrong.

[She glances hipward, in the direction where her mirror is probably concealed.]

Probably it's the same part of me that's trapped in that thing. The rest of me is like...weirdly wired? Like I can't sit still. Like I'm too big inside for my skin to hold me in. Maybe it goes both ways, maybe too much color is just as harmful as not enough.

[bittybat]

[This town is THE WORST. Release Damian Wayne and the rest from this endless suffering.]

Ignore the mirror. I realize that's easier said than done, but it'll have to be ignored for now. I'm unaware of destroying the mirror would benefit or harm us. It's best to err on the side of caution.

[Ha ha, says the boy who cracks his mirror right open the time it starts harassing people who don't deserve it.]

If this place functions on color... If the color gives us taste, abilities, the functionality of some places... Then yes, I imagine so. If we equate color to "life," or the vitality of it. Having too much may not kill you, but it's an overload.

If you notice your energy decreasing, then chances are whoever you stole from may also return to their previous state.