songerein | [OPEN] A Late March Catchall

Entry tags:

[OPEN] A Late March Catchall

Who: Herlock Sholmes ... and you?
Which: Open Log
Where: Around Reverein (The Wild Harvest, The Communal Garden)
What: Sholmes enjoys some intellectual pursuits in public
Warnings: Threads may include spoilers for GAA/GAA2 and will be marked accordingly. Feel free to opt out or simply write an OOC note in the tag.

A. The Curious Tale of the Man with the Jars

XXnd of March(?), Throughout the Day
The Wild Harvest

[ If one happens to visit the Wild Harvest today, they will find one of its tables has been completely overtaken by a single guest and his clutter: a stack of books*, a (normal) journal, a handful of measuring tools, and--depending on what time you find him--half-eaten plates of food, a sweaty glass of ice water, a cup of tea, or a neglected pint of beer. His overcoat, deerstalker, and leather bag are discarded on the seat next to him, leaving the detective to comfortably study in his rolled shirtsleeves.

However, all of that aside, one may find a mismatched collection of jars to be of much greater interest. Judging by the stubborn residue from their labels, the containers previously held pickles, jams, and spices, but peering into them now will reveal various specimens, living or otherwise: insects, plants, colorful stones, mysterious fluids, one or two familiar orange hate feathers and a few four-leaf clovers. ]

[[ * OOC: This is a random mix from the bookstore. Feel free to make up titles or recognize a volume from your character’s canon if you’d like another excuse to make small talk! ]]

B. The Adventure of the Fickle Fiddler

XXst of March(?), Late Afternoon, Trending into Evening
The Communal Garden

[ Alternately, if one happens to be enjoying a late-day stroll by the communal garden, they will catch the sound of a violin. A few bars of a tune play, followed by a pause, some muttering, and a bowed revision. It's a bit difficult to make out the song or the violinist's actual skill given the choppy progress, but if, by chance, one hails from some variant of Earth and has a keen ear for classical music, they may recognize phrases of Paganini.

Venturing deeper into the garden, one will find the source of the music: a man standing by the pond with a violin tucked under his chin. After bowing out a bar, he bends to write (or erase) notes on the makeshift sheet music paper laid out across a bench. A chorus of singing fish poke up from the depths of the pond to helpfully parrot his melodies. ]

C. WILDCARD

[ Hit me up via PM or discord if you have other business or scenarios you'd like to address with Sholmes! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ori frequents the communal garden, especially now that springtime is just around the corner - but a late-day visit is not usually accompanied by the wonderful sound of a violin! She is certainly not from a variant of Earth nor does she have a keen ear for classical music, and thus the piece is lost on her, but she likes music and hearing people play instruments all the same. Even if the music it self seems to start and stop.

The tiefling can't help but find herself curious as to where the music is coming from, and so she goes deeper into the garden. She's met a few people as of late that seemed to be interested in music or were bards, themselves, so maybe it's one of them...?

When she finally catches the sight of Herlock, she startles a bit and drops the basket of freshly-picked tulips she had been holding - silly her, forgetting that there are so many dreamwalkers around, many of whom she hasn't yet met. ]

Oh...!

[ She kneels down to try quickly and quietly pick up her basket and flowers. Hopefully she isn't disturbing this violinist...! ]

[ On hearing the exclamation, Sholmes' bow stops mid-note with a reedy squawk and the fish twitch back below the surface of the pond. On turning to face the source of the sound, it takes the detective a moment to process the stranger's unique attributes. He's been in Reverein long enough to have seen a good sampling of non-humans, but it hasn't stopped being a novelty quite yet. Certainly not when he's pulled from a moment of intense concentration.

But ... clearly she is just as startled by a human? He raises bow and violin in what he hopes reads as "I'm unarmed" and not "I am trying to make myself look bigger and more frightening." ]

Pardon me, my good madam. [ He assumes? ] Please, I am mostly harmless! Here--let me help with that.

[ The instrument is set aside and he carefully approaches to help gather the dropped flowers, all the while providing more assurances: ] Observe these blunt fingers and these weak primate limbs, full of brittle bones! Quite a pathetic creature, a human.

[ Thankfully, Ori is more startled by the fact that he's not one of the people that she thought he would be than the fact that he's a human. She's gotten used to being one of the few non-humans around, and even before arriving she had been traveling with a group comprised mostly of statuesque elves (and a half-orc).

At his initial gesture, she realizes that she might have seemed like she was afraid, which is only confirmed by what he says following suit. ]

It's okay! Really—

[ And then he's approaching and helping her with her flowers, and at what he says then, she... honestly can't help but chuckle. ]

Please, not at all! I apologize for interrupting you. I thought you might have been a friend of mine. And, um... I've been around plenty of humans, so it's really okay.

[ Sholmes relaxes as he lays flowers back in the tiefling's basket, admiring some of the blooms as he does so. ] Then you have caught me in a lie: you must know that humans can be dreadful brutes, and our bites are wildly infectious. Fortunately, you'll find that I am properly civilized, and was broken of my biting habit by the time I was five years of age.

[ Once the flowers are seen to, he stands and dusts off his hands with a sharp sigh. ] Rest assured, my dear, the interruption is quite welcome. I've encountered a rather difficult part of my work, you see, and even the fish are of little help.

[ Well, at such statements, Ori really can't help but laugh a little more openly, that initial unease and awkwardness around having clumsily walked in on his violin-playing all but forgotten. ]

Is that so? How fortunate for me, then!

[ She gives him a grateful nod of her head and a smile once the flowers are all gathered back into her basket, and then she follows suit when he stands up. ]

I thought it sounded nice, actually, even with the fish singing along. That's why I came to see who was playing.

[ She glances down briefly and picks a pink tulip out of the basket, and then she holds it out towards him. ]

My name is Oriphi, but everyone calls me Ori.

A pleasure! [ He gives a flourishing bow. ] Herlock Sholmes, consulting detective--and occasional violinist--at your service.

[ Sholmes' head tilts to one side as he hums. ] In retrospect, it is I who should be afraid of you, Miss Ori. To my eyes, you resemble nothing so much as the demons who are alleged to torment the souls of the damned.

[ But what kind of demon would make such a sweet offering? He takes the tulip and twirls it between thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. ] Perhaps that is your infernal errand today? To gather flowers with which you may tickle some poor sinner's nose and irritate his most violent allergies?

[ ... Ori really is used to being one of the more unique-looking dreamwalkers around. Surely. But most people have done little more than spare a longer-than-usual appraising glance at her, or have politely asked what she is. Miraculously, she has managed to avoid any outlandish exclamations, has avoided immediately instilling fear in the hearts of those who lay eyes upon her, or any such direct remarks as to her appearance... until now.

(She is a five-foot tiefling woman who is always covered in flowers.)

Her eyes widen the more that she hears Sholmes say, and by the time he is seemingly questioning her motive in giving him a tulip, she is frowning and her voice is quiet when she responds, ]

...Pink tulips symbolize friendship...

[ At least Sholmes' statements were offered without any kind of judgement? In fact, his tone is really very pleasant. Someone has to administer torture in the bowels of hell. It might as well be petite purple demons?

And she hasn't explicitly corrected him now, has she? ]

Do they? I would not expect a Hadean creature to be so well-versed in the language of flowers. But what a delicious layer of irony. Consider me lulled into a false sense of security!

[ That pleasant tone with which he had said all of those things is, in fact, the only reason that Ori has not burst into tears on the spot—

—but, he's right, she hasn't corrected him. Yet. ]

I really can't tell if you're joking around or not... but, I'm not a demon! I suppose - since you're from another realm then I guess I wouldn't know, but... where I'm from, there's a difference between creatures like demons and devils. Tieflings have infernal blood, from devils. Not demons.

[ But as far as Sholmes is concerned....... same difference, probably. ]

I'm no expert on the taxonomy of hell fiends, so I will take you at your word! [ He swishes the pink tulip around in her direction. ] To clarify: you are neither demon nor devil, but a derivative thereof?

[ In the relative calm, the fish have returned to the surface of the pond, watching and chirping a few notes from Sholmes' earlier performance. ]

Pray tell, is it typical for tieflings to defy their diabolical origin with such idyllic activities? Harvesting flowers and enjoying a bit of music?

[ Oh, now they're getting into this. Most people have simply been content to know that what she is called "a tiefling," even in this realm where she is more than likely one of the only ones - if not the only one - around. It's been quite some time since someone has responded to her infernal roots in this manner; or at least, it feels like it's been quite some time, given that she's been here for a few months. In the waking world, it's really only been a day or two since last somebody saw her up close and then called a freak.

Anyway... Relative calm may be the key word, here, as Ori's own emotions are growing more uneasy with each reference to hell or evil or being diabolical - to the effect that the pink tulip that Sholmes has in his hand starts to droop a little. ]

Y... Yes. To both? Even though we're descended from infernal beings, tieflings can be just as unique and individual as humans or elves or - anyone else, really...

[ If her discomfort weren't obvious enough from her tone and posture, the limp tulip drives the point home: perhaps he's being a bit much. ]

Please do forgive my boorish curiosity, Miss Ori. I'm still a relative newcomer, and quite unaccustomed to the sheer variety of individuals represented in this place.

[ He drifts back over to the bench and sweeps his music into a pile, placing the tulip on top. ] If you have no pressing appointments, have a seat! Tell me more--where have you come from? What styles of music are enjoyed there?

[ Perhaps, ordinarily, his behavior wouldn't feel like a bit much; but Ori has foolishly gotten used to people mostly letting her be without much question around here, so in a way this was a bit of a reminder of reality even within this realm of dreams. At least he isn't actively yelling or screaming while running away...?

When he apologizes, she waves a hand dismissively and tries her best at an airy laugh. ]

It's alright! [ is it tho ] You come from a place where there are no tieflings, so it's understandable that you might be... surprised by how I look. But please, rest assured, I'm not here to do anything diabolical or sinister to you or anyone...

[ Perhaps, in time, he'll come to see that Ori really is just here to plant flowers and help people. And that she's (mostly) harmless.

At his prompting, she taker her basket up once more and then wonders if it's really okay for her to take up more of his time than she already has. But in the end, she hopes that telling him more about her world might make things better for whoever the next tiefling this man meets is, if that ever happens. And so she makes her way over and takes a seat, holding her basket of tulips in her lap. ]

The world I come from? Um... I don't really know what style of music there are, but I used to travel with a friend who's a bard, and he played the lute or the flute a lot. Songs that tell a story, that kind of thing.

[ Even if he has a chronic case of foot-in-mouth disease, Sholmes is still observant enough to mark Oriphi's half-hearted reassurance. At least she's taken him up on his offer. She can't be that offended by his aggressive ignorance.

Sholmes doesn't take a seat himself; he remains standing, violin tucked under an arm as he plucks a small cake of rosin from his pocket and applies it to his bow. ]

A bard! How wonderfully medieval. Did he write any songs about your shared travels, by chance? May I entreat you to share a few verses?

[ For better or for worse, he's not the first man she's encountered who suffers from that terrible, accursed disease, and he's likely not going to be the last... But hopefully this conversation is on its way to something of a recovery! Ori wants to believe. ]

Hmmm, if he did write about our travels, I wouldn't know them. Unfortunately we were separated for quite some time, and I don't think he got up to much songwriting while he was gone.

[ Her hand rises to scratch the back of her head with a chuckle. ]

I suppose there's also music that sounds a bit more like what you were playing before. Though I've only heard it at a very fancy gathering...

Parting is such sweet sorrow, as a bard in my world once wrote. I hope your friend--and his muse--return ere long. Quite dull, travelling by oneself. [ He gives his bow a few taps to remove the excess rosin. ]

I'm not nearly so practiced, but there are certainly less formal styles. [ Sholmes lays bow to strings once more and, after a couple of false starts and muttered minced oaths, he finally manages a more spirited tune. Once he finds his flow, there's plenty of bobbing and foot-tapping to keep tempo. ]

Now imagine that accompanied by a jaunty bit of flute. Fit to inspire a jig, I daresay!

[ ... Wait. Where has she heard that line before? The play that they were all made to live through in a dreamscape last month surely had those words in it, and the man in the moon— Shakespeare, was it? Said he had written it...

She'll have to remember to ask about that sometime. But for now, the tune that Sholmes plays surely is spirited, and a little bit of spirit goes far when it comes to dissipating any remaining tension Ori is holding from how this encounter started. She clasps her hands together as she watches him in awe, and she can't help but tap her foot to it, as well. ]

Surely! That does remind me of some very energetic nights at taverns. Perhaps you could be a bard, yourself, Mister Sholmes.

[ He smiles and laughs at both the suggestion and the increasing evidence that he's won her over. The man does seem to have a lot of charisma, even if ~~he rolls a lot of nat 1's~~ his words can get away from him. ]

Oh, but wouldn't that be delightful? In my idle moments, I often consider a more frivolous profession. [ He adopts a distant, wistful look. ] Unfortunately, were I to hang up my detective's cap, the criminal element would immediately run roughshod over society. Law and order would be forfeit!

[ He turns back to the tiefling. ] Surely you have something similar, Miss Ori? A talent you're obliged to share for the betterment of the community?

[ For better or for worse, Oriphi is absolutely... easy to win over. ~~And bad at Insight checks.~~

She's about ready to point out, though, that he can pursue such 'frivolous' professions here, in the same vein that all of them have been... freed of their prior commitments and expectations. It's not an easy thing to grapple, but in the several months she's been here... it's hard not to believe like they've been given this strange opportunity for a different life.

Mostly, she feels as though Reverein is relatively peaceful and isn't sure what place a Detective (with a capital D) might have in it... Regardless, she seems surprised when he asks her what her societal contributions are. Which, now as she thinks about it, she bites down on her lip in thought. ]

Umm. The magical abilities I have are deeply rooted in the primal elements, and I know healing magic, so... I try to help people and nature whenever I can.

[ She doesn't sound particularly confident in herself as she says all that, but still! ]

I must say, I'm rather envious. I've spent most of my life in a city steeped in industry and all but stripped of nature. There are public parks and gardens, of course, but nothing quite so pleasant as all of this. [ The fish splash restlessly, waiting for more music. Sholmes plays a few notes of "God Save the Queen" to tide them over, and they chirp a response. ]

Are these "primal elements" synonymous with dreamotion energy? [ To be fair, that's the only kind of magic he knows outside of ... well, pulling a rabbit from a hat or sawing a lady in half. ]

[ Despite having spent a few months living here, at this point, the idea of fish chirping is still so... strange. But then again, she's never tried to play music for fish before. Who knows.

In any case, his description earns a thoughtful little hum at her. She's been to big cities, similar to what he's describing, but it's been quite some time since she would have called such a place her home. At his question, she shakes her head. ]

Ah, no. By "primal elements" I mean water, earth, fire... Those elements. I can draw from and manipulate them using spells. It's, um, a bit different from using dreamotion energy.

I take it that your home doesn't have magic, Mister Sholmes?

Not in the sense of spells and curses and so forth, no. Purely the stuff of fairy stories. There's stage magic, of course, but that amounts to nothing more than clever misdirection and sleight of hand. [ He shakes his head in mild disgust. ]

No, my home is ruled by the strict laws of nature as quantified by science—which, if you'll allow me to be poetic, is its own kind of orderly magic. From it, we make medicine, machines, weapons ... the applications are quite endless.

[ He waves his bow again, as if to encompass the surrounding garden and the town beyond. ]

But this place is wont to subvert those laws in rather confounding ways. [ To put it lightly. ] Do you find it's taken a toll on your own magic?

[ Ori tries to imagine herself in a world entirely devoid of magic, which is... incredibly difficult. Magic isn't quite so commonplace or widespread as one might believe, where she's from, but it's just that her own life has been so deeply influenced and shaped by magic that... well, she would probably be an entirely different person, were she brought into a life with no magic.

That being said, what he describes as science does conjure in her mind the image of wizards and alchemists, making sense and order in formulas and runes what the sort of chaos that she draws upon for her own magic. ]

Orderly magic sounds a bit like what wizards do. They understand and use magic in very precise and calculated ways... it's an entirely different way of using magic than what I'm used to.

But, to answer your question— I don't think it has. It's made for some interesting effects on my magic, but nothing... bad. [ Maybe? ] Except for the times that I can't use my magic at all, like in dreamscapes.

[ Sholmes nods at the dreamscape restrictions. Odd that something like magic would find no purchase there, but maybe if it severs a connection with her primal elements ... ? Hm.

Naturally, the mention of "wizards" conjures eccentric, bearded hermits living in crumbled towers or peat huts. To be fair, that's not far from the life of a truly committed scientist, or really, where Sholmes might be headed as he gets on in years. ]

Fascinating. If a wizard's approach is regimented, then yours is more— [ He hums, searching for the right word. Maybe even one that won't cause offense. ] ... intuitive?

[ She's utterly prepared to hear her approach described as something less... flattering, but she's pleasantly surprised to hear "intuitive," as that does feel rather right. Natural might have been her pick of word, with no pun intended. ]

... Hmm! That's a good way of putting it, actually. It's more... Innate, in a way. Some magic users get their magic from their bloodline, or other ways, too.

[ Like questionable pacts with actual literal demons, perhaps. But Ori wouldn't know anything about that! ]

[OPEN] A Late March Catchall

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that tag took me out lmfao

that response though haha

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