When the doodle sphere filled with paint, it never stopped, flooding the entire area until it became the Sea Of Stories. He washed up on a shore, where he was then looked after by a version of a Toriel, as well as a muffet for a sister.
His goal is to map out the Sea of Stories because of something that occurred in the past, which wouldnât have happened if he hadnât gotten lost. Low on paint, he relies on ships to travel through the Sea of Stories. His broomie doubles as a wood carver!
However, that was many, many years ago. Who knows what heâs up to now?
TIMING:Â Current
PARTIES:Â Zack, Rosemary ( @necrosemancy ), and Henri ( @hollow--sun )
SUMMARY:Â Zack, Rosemary, and Henri hit the books in search for an answer to the question of Wicked's Rest's magical problems.
CONTENT WARNINGS: None!
When Lil had reached out with the concept of a sort of battery for the magic in Wickedâs Rest to replace whatever demon (sure, absolutely, why not?), Zack had immediately been on board. While the blackouts were more of a nuisance to him than anything else, he knew that it was far worse for shifters, and the undead, and fae. Not to mention spellcasters like Rosemary who actually used their magic. And Zack didnât want to find out what might happen to the town should the magic degrade even further. There was no telling what parts of Wickedâs Rest depended on magic and how big and bad the consequences of losing parts might be.
It just lucked out that Zack had begun poking at the idea of the origins of magic on his own. A lesson with Rosemary had brought the question to his mind: What exactly was the ether, the astral plane, where magic apparently lived and existed. And if it was always there, what exactly was going on with Wickedâs Rest? Was the town more like a spellcaster, an entity that had the ability to reach out an access magic, than a source of magic itself?
The picture had come together more clearly in the history that he hadnât been present for: the greater demon and its connection to Wickedâs Rest, to magic, to Netherville. Of course it was all connected, like a cycle. Like a body of water that rippled out and out. While what the exact magical source would end up being was anyoneâs guess, they could at least get to work on the battery that would get its energy from said source. And Zack had a syllabus already in place.
Armed with a collection of books on magical theory and the intersection of magic and human technology from sections of the library he maybe wasnât technically allowed in, his next stop was Rosemary. Settling at her kitchen table with two cups of tea and Zippo dozing nearby to discuss the finer points of magic had become a comfortable routine, lately. With this project, though, Zack was thrilled to be something closer to a colleague with his teacher. He wouldnât say equal, not when Rosemary had a whole lifetime of magical knowledge behind her, and he was basically just starting out. But they were both working at a disadvantage to discover the possibility of a magical battery. It was a lot of collaborating, back and forth. Some late nights that Zack imagined might be like what cramming for an exam would be like, had he gone to college. In the end, there was only so much they could discover on their own.Â
There was the proof of concept that magic could in fact be combined with human technological components, that, with some tweaks, you could use magic as the fuel powering some sort of battery cell. And the beginnings of a sketchy list of components that would potentially help to siphon and channel the magic off whatever the eventual source would be. But it seemed they were up against an issue that hadnât occurred before, which meant all attempts at remedies were untested. At least, Zack himself couldnât locate any resources that provided any evidence to the contrary.
â
A battery wasnât a bad idea. Rosemary had agreed to help almost instantly. There was too much at stake, with magicâs presence in the town slowly circling the drain. Every single person the witch cared for who resided in that little coastal town would be impacted by itâs loss. Theyâd be in danger- whether for their appearance, or for the control that would slip through their fingertips. People would get hurt⊠What was more- she found herself with a refrain of a thought that whispered at the back of her mind. She knew the spell to bring Owen back had worked. But what if, when magic vanished entirely from that little town, the tether that tied Owenâs life to her own vanished with it. Sheâd had more than enough loss in the last year. If building a battery could help prevent more, she was all for it.Â
Late nights spent scouring through materials with Zack became commonplace. The radio hummed in the background as the pair poured over pages of information, the noise a reminder of who she was doing this research for. Rosemary hadnât always been fond of group projects. Sheâd always been the sort to tie back her hair and hunker down, content to do the work herself if she knew sheâd get the work done correctly. But they couldnât do this just the two of them. Her knowledge of magic only extended so far. Teaching Zack had refreshed her knowledge of the fundamentals, but there was so much that she didnât understand. So much wisdom sheâd let pass her by in the pursuit of something sheâd been led to believe her entire life was somehow greater.Â
And the extent of her magical knowledge was truly only half the battle. Despite the fact that the magic she worked could be compared to the works of science fiction, she didnât have the scientific know-how that Doctor Victor Frankenstein had as heâd toiled away with his creation. She had been taught by a caster who was infinitely more ritualistic, more intuitive. As such, her practices reflected those of her mentors. Everything had meaning. There were no calculations, no equations that she had to solve when she was casting. It was more artistic than that. And magic aside, sheâd never been fond of science in school. Rosemary didnât have the slightest idea as to how to build a battery.Â
âThere needs to be more than just us building this thing.â Sheâd grumbled to her friend in a two AM haze, her laptop glowing with instructions on how to construct a battery out of a potato!, an article that, despite its simplicity, was completely lost on the witch. She was brewing them another pot of coffee as her mind drifted from the battery itself, to the people who might have the resources to help them, or at least, know how to find them. Rosemary had groaned loudly into her fourth cup of coffee as the answer occurred to her.Â
It didnât much matter if the man hated her for the things sheâd done, or for how her words and actions had hurt for someone Rosemary was fairly certain he cared a great deal for. Library Guy might be the answer to their problems, as far as further guidance went. Sheâd dragged herself into the library where Henri OâDea worked, and humbled herself for the sake of knowledge. Sheâd brought coffee, hoping that at least the promise of caffeine to a graduate student would keep him from kicking her out of the library on sight. âWe need help. If we can make this battery, and it works- Henri, think of all the people this saves. Think of all the good this does by keeping the town from spilling into fucking chaos.â
__
Once Rosemary had finished explaining that they had found a way, perhaps, to restore the magic in Wickedâs Rest, and prevent, perhaps, another one of these deadly blackouts, Henri had remained silent for a while, his eyes scanning through the notes he had taken, notes that would be essential to him, notes that would let Rosemary know that she had been heard, that he was listening and that he was taking every word that came out of her mouth with the seriousness it deserved.Â
He did not promise anything. He never promised anything. Especially not after what happened with Jenny.Â
But if there was something he had learned from that dreadful month of research, it was that it didnât matter how much time he spent looking, if he was not looking in the right place. âMagic isnât my specialty, butâŠâ Henri looked her in the eyes then.Â
Like her, he had people he cared for, people who would either cause pain or be victims of the violence, if the blackouts didnât come to an end. He thought of Eve, who had spent the last one posted on a rooftop with a sniper rifle, keeping people safe as best as she could. He thought of his parents. Of his sister. His cousins. He thought of Estella, who had spent the longest of hours sheltered behind closed doors, scared, helpless, waiting for everything to be over, not even aware of what she was being kept away from. He thought of Mickey, of hours that passed by, hours you lost count of, just like he must have lost count of the people passing through E.R. And he thought of Emilio and how he must have hurt in the wake of those blackouts.
âI will need your help, but Iâll do my part,â and he was already gathering his things as he told her so, putting away his laptop, the keyboard Eve had gotten him, which he found less and less confusing nowadays, and the few documents she had brought along with her. âIâll reach out to you in a few days, once Iâve checked all my sources,â and though that was no promise, he assured her then that he would be looking, and that he would do so with the same relentlessness he awarded Jennyâs life.Â
The hunter took the coffee cup with him, and left the library in a hurry, dialing the number that had been given to him, a month and a half ago.Â
The Scribes picked up immediately. It made him wonder if they were watching, or how they worked, and though now was not the time for curiosity, Henri knew he wouldnât always be able to pretend he wasnât intrigued.Â
They met him the same day at his door, with two crates full of books and files and tapes. He never had given them his address. But that didnât matter. Henri got to work, and then, as he had told Rosemary, wrote her an email, four pages long, with a collection of annotated pages attached to it. His heart pounded with high expectation as he pressed sent.
Writing prompt/character dynamic/plot thing but I LOVE it when you have the Big Main Plot and the MC and their love intrest just, sometimes literally, gets rammed by Side Quest that comes out of nowhere. This is when the Side Quest physically/geographically separates these two from the rest of the Team and they have to spend days/weeks navigating through Side Quest trying to get back to the Main Plot to defeat Big Villain. And these two are on their own for days on end with only each other for company so they slowly get to know each other better, their dynamic gets more fleshed out, and there's real Trust built through life threatening fights where they only have each other to rely on. Bonus points if the love intrest is a former enemy and they're still on the tentative allies part of enemies to friends to lovers. And you can especially see how different their dynamic is when they finally reunite with the Team and it's so clear how different they are before and after Side Quest. Side Quest isn't the part where they get together but it's one of the main moments in the plot where they spend a considerable amount of time together alone and their dynamic gets time to actually explore and grow and they become friends.
Legend stared at the door. This was it, his new home.
Time had driven him from the airport and stood next to him, holding one of his suitcases.
âNow, I've got to warn you, Wind will be very excited to meet you, he's been like that since we said we were adopting another kid.â
Legend looked up at his new guardian,
âanother? I thought Wind was yours?â
âIt's a long story, one for another day. When you're settled in I'm sure Wind would be excited to tell you all about it. After all, you'll all be sharing a room for a while. It's not ideal but I'm sure everything will work out.â
Time opened the door and let Legend walk in. Quickly, he grabbed the bag of his new sons items and placed them in the doorway.
âIs that everything? How's the little guy doing?â Time asked, pointing to the small crate that was housing a rabbit.
âHe's ok, he doesn't mind it in there."
It only took a few seconds for the peaceful quiet to be interrupted.
âLegend! I'm so glad you're here! What's in the cage thing? How was your trip? Tell me everything.â
Wind had just zipped into the area and was attached to Legend like a piece of velcro.
âHi Wind, this is my rabbit, Thief. I can tell you about my trip later but I will tell you about it. Thanks for letting me crash in your room.â
Legend said, bending down to Wind's eye level.
âDon't worry your pink streak of hair off. Twilight was a bit harder to convince but at least we can have someone else to talk to. Here let me show you to the roomâ
Wind dragged the older boy to the bedroom where Twilight had been texting someone on his phone, quickly hiding it under his pillow and getting up.
âSorry âbout that, I wasn't expecting you till later. Mom's at work right now but she set you up a spare mattress here. You can put your stuff by the shelf, just don't crowd the door.â
With that he left the room, giving Legend a small, but honest smile.
Wind gestured for Legends ear, âhe was probably texting his girlfriend Illia.â
Quickly changing the subject, Legend decided to ask a small question. âSo, where does our- your mom work?â
Wind excitedly hopped onto his own bed and started talking again,
âMom works at the farm giving horse riding lessons, but today she's working at the farmers market selling our world famous Lon-Lon milk. It's really good, so good that dad always tries to sneak some. Though I think he might be lactose intolerant, which is why mom always tries to hide it. Speaking of dad, he's a musical therapist. He can play a ton of different instruments and he helps people work through their problems.â
Legend nodded, though now wondering how Time lost his eye. He'd rather ask that later.
âAlso you can say our mom, we're brothers now, ok?â
Nodding again, Legend placed his things where Twilight said he could.
This was his new start, he wasn't gonna mess it up again.
