Open | November Catch-all & Dream

[pactmarshal]

Who: Trahearne and you!
Which: Open log
Where: Out and about in town all throughout the month, mostly the archives
What: Catch-all for the month! Dreamboard quests in Reverein and reliving the earlier years of his life in a dream
Warnings: The disfigured undead (zombies), ghost peppers, others to be added if they come up

> REVEREIN | LIVE LIFE WELL AND FULLY, AND WASTE NOTHING.

❋ harvest.
[ As much of a bookworm Trahearne is, he does understand that he needs to go outside every once in a while. And what better way to be outside than to make himself useful at the same time?

And so, the sylvari decides to help out with the harvest one sunny afternoon, burying himself among the thick leaves of the ripened harvest to really get in there and get all the goodies out. Nothing like some hard physical work to refresh the mind, right?

Unfortunately, however, the natural colors of his "clothes" and skin blend in quite handily with the rest of the foliage, especially at this time of year. When he feels a firm grab on the leaves that make up his skirt, he shoots upright and whirls around to look at you, bewilderment written all over his face. ]

--Oh! That's--that's me.

❋ photographs.
What a curious contraption.

[ Trahearne will not say no to something novel and interesting. After being handed the dreamotion camera, he turns it over in his hands, studying it. Questions about how it could have been created, how it works roll around in his mind, but he quickly scolds himself--what point is a test if he doesn't actually experiment with it?

He turns to the person nearest himself--that's you--and holds it up with a smile. ]

Let me take a picture of you.

❋ archives.
[ As the one who runs the archives, Trahearne is there all the time. Every day. By the time the sun rises and long after it sets. He rarely takes full days off; it's rare to find him elsewhere. Sometimes, he even brings his cat with him.

And so, if you have any sort of business at the archives, he's there, ready to help. He knows every book on every shelf, and at a healthy six-foot-two he can reach the top shelves. He's happy to tutor anyone who needs assistance putting together an entry. He's happy to talk about work, either in this life or the last. He's just happy to be here, to be honest. ]

❋ wildcard.
[ Feel free to make something else up, or find me on the discord or at unkie for a personalized starter! ]

> DREAM | THE SCHOLAR DREAMT OF A LAND RECLAIMED FROM THE DRAGON'S TOUCH.
[ In his Dream before life, Trahearne saw the dead Kingdom of Orr, a land that had been dragged out of the sea by the undead dragon Zhaitan, green and growing again. Upon awakening, he knew this was his life's mission: to purify Zhaitan's corruption and bring life back to Orr. His goal is impossible. Laughable, even. Yet the call of a Wyld Hunt is irresistible, so as much as he hates it, he spends weeks, months in the dead land alone, scrambling for any lead that might bring him closer to his goal.

He will eventually cleanse this land. He will eventually lead the forces that will fell Zhaitan, but not in this dream. Right now, that is many, many years away.

The land is devoid of life, cramped by unnaturally-shaped terrain, ruins of buildings that are mere shadows of their former grandeur. Oversized barnacles and dead coral from centuries under the ocean cling to the crumbling structures, towering over the soggy ground like otherworldly trees. Unnatrual shrieks occasionally pierce the silence, perhaps seabirds that strayed too close to the corruption. It stinks of brine, of rot and decay. The clouds above take on a sickly green hue, a reflection of the putrescence that permeates the land below. And dotting the landscape, all around, are graying, decaying corpses shambling about, looking for victims to which to spread their corruption.

This is Trahearne's life. ]

❋ research.
[ Orr sat at the bottom of the ocean for nearly two centuries--any original writing that may have existed on the island decayed or was destroyed a long, long time ago. It is exceedingly rare to find any in-tact inscriptions, much less legible ones.

So when Trahearne clambers this tower and finds what looks to be a massive stone tablet partially buried in rubble and debris, he can hardly contain his excitement. The first line peeks out from the dirt--"Darkness pays Orr a visit." Is it a poem? Epitaph? A warning of sorts? He has to know.

Except the tablet is nearly twice his size, almost five times his weight, and the rubble that obscures the rest of the inscription is cumbersome--it might even be supporting the rest of the structure at this point. Regardless, he's going to try and pull it free, whether it's a wise idea or not. ]

❋ cornered.
[ Despite how careful he tries to be, Trahearne isn't perfect, and the Risen are very good at popping up where he doesn't want them to be. He's ventured into one ruined structure, keen to map it out and determine what possible use it must have served, but the problem with grand buildings of this scale having been hidden underwater for centuries means the inside is essentially a subterranean maze, interrupted in places by tunnels filled with putrid water and rotting plant matter.

Trahearne should know better than this, and curiosity is coming dangerously close to killing the sylvari. He stands with his back against the wall in this little pocket of air, the only passages in or out are filled with water. Risen stagger out from the water, clawing at the ground to try and tear Trahearne apart. ]

S-stay back! [ He brandishes his scepter, though he knows it isn't much of a threat. His own necromantic minions stand before him to guard him. ] You will rue the day you crossed my path!

[ Despite what he says, the fear is evident in his eyes. The Risen are everywhere, and there are so many of them. If only he weren't alone... ]

❋ respite.
[ Nighttime in Orr is dark. With no real settlements for miles in any direction, the veil of night that falls over the island is thick, impermeable. The only dot of light is the small fire Trahearne has going--he's perched himself atop a crumbling stone structure, just large enough for two people to sit side by side. Not that anyone will come to join him, of course. He's alone in Orr, as he has always been, and he sits with his knees to his chest, as though trying to shrink himself from the Risen's view.

There is a little pot bubbling over the fire. Cooking inside are asparagus, truffles, and ghost peppers--what he always eats. It's all that really grows around here. The oysters and fish are nowhere near safe enough to be consumed.

Absently, Trahearne reaches into his pack and takes a bite out of one of his ghost peppers. He doesn't even flinch. ]

Comments

[removal]

[ Phantom takes a step back and appraises his friend. Trahearne is quite handsome, so he's sure that the Sylvari would be able to pull it off. The issue is in picking the cut and style... there are many different conformations, as Phantom knows intimately.

But first: ]

Will you be comfortable with wearing them? Or would you grow your own? There would also be the matter of shoes.

[ He's not going to think too much about Trahearne being technically naked. ]

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne is technically naked. ]

To be honest... [ He straightens (haha) himself, turning to Phantom with a thoughtful look. ] I'd much prefer to grow my own, but I need to know how to grow them.

[ Hence the role of shopping. But who knows, maybe finer clothing won't feel so awful on his skin.

He is going to not think about shoes just yet. ]

[removal]

[ Phantom figured that much. He would have to take into account the tailoring of the suit in a different way, then, since it would be grown from the body instead of applied from the outside. It's a bit of a challenge. ]

Suits usually come in two or three layers, possibly four if it is dress formal or for winter. Would you be able to make such things?

[ He looks at the various garments on display. Maybe he should have just brought Trahearne to look at his own wardrobe. ]

[pactmarshal]

[ When Phantom's attention goes back to the garments, so does Trahearne's. He studies the shapes, the layering, taking in what Phantom has described. In honesty, he hasn't been paying attention to whether or not Eustace has brought up a dress code for the event. Or level of formality. He usually considers these things not applicable to him, but this time, he wants to make the effort. ]

I should be able to, or at least create the illusion of layers. [ He thinks actual layers of leaves might make him look bulky, and he is not actually very fond of that idea, much to his own surprise.

He looks at Phantom again, tilting his head towards the shop. ]

Shall we go inside?

[ Maybe he could try one on, even if the thought makes him uneasy. Or at least get a closer look at them. ]

[removal]

[ Tailored suits usually conform to the wearer's body and bring out a sleek silhouette, but he understands that Trahearne is unused to such things and would probably feel uncomfortable being all wrapped up like that. Plants breathe with their leaves (or something, he wasn't quite paying attention to Orchid's talks) and since Trahearne is covered with leaves, he might suffocate.

Maybe? ]

Yes, of course.

[ Phantom steps forward and pushes open the door. The door chime tinkles gently as they enter. The shopkeeper is friendly and advertises their handmade clothing displayed throughout the store. Even though they might look similar, the texture of the different fabrics make them unique. ]

What do you think? We could start with the lighter ones, if you like.

[pactmarshal]

[ How does he breathe indeed... But there are sylvari who run around in full plate armor, so it's probably fine.

Not like Phantom knows that, though.

As they step through the door and into the establishment, Trahearne immediately finds himself walking along the rows of dressed mannequins. They all look very smart--he studies the shapes and the structures, wondering how he might recreate them.

When Phantom speaks, he's already a few paces away; he turns around to regard him quizzically. ]

Do you think I'd look good in a lighter colour? [ He looks down at himself, then up at the suit he so happens to be standing next to--a green one. A wry smile curls on his lips. ] I don't think a skin-tone one would be a wise choice.

[removal]

[ Phantom chuckles - it's a faint one, but he's definitely laughed. ]

I suppose not... there are earthier tones, if you wish to keep the aesthetic. [ He motions to the various brown and brich-like colours. ] My favourite is midnight black, but that is not quite auspicious enough for a wedding.

[ A pause as Phantom realizes he might have to change his own wardrobe. Oh dear. ]

Perhaps some ash greys? [ It might make Trahearne's hair stand out idk ]

[pactmarshal]

[ When Trahearne hears Phantom laugh, his head whips back to his friend, and a bright smile crosses his face. ...He has never heard that before! It feels like he's just experienced something significant.

But that's not the point right now. Phantom mentions the other colors, and his gaze sweeps over the store. There's a lighter brown on he likes, and another one of a slightly darker brown. At mention of ash gray, his eyes settle on one nearby, and he reaches out to touch the fabric. It feels a lot nicer than he anticipated; as a test, he sticks his hand in the sleeve, and is shocked by how silky it is on the inside. ]

--Oh! That's nice. [ He peers over at Phantom. ] Like this one?

[ It could definitely bring out the lighter parts of his hair. ]

[removal]

Yes. Is the texture alright?

[ He wonders if Trahearne would be able to alter the colour of his leaves to match. If not, then he would need to be confined within a suit for perhaps four or five hours... would he wilt? Phantom thinks to himself. ]

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne would die a little inside if he knew of all the worries that keep going through Phantom's mind. He's fine!! He's just really picky!!

But he doesn't. So he only smiles in response. ]

It's a lot smoother than I anticipated. I suppose that speaks of the quality. [ Guess that's what he gets for being a nigh-broke plant in Tyria. ]

Maybe I'll try it on. [ At least to give it a try. No harm in it, right? He's feeling rather optimistic. He turns to the shopkeeper, who quickly makes their way over to them. ]