This just in: water is wet. You already knew that, though, didn't you? So smart, so wise — and yet, here you are, in a city that's somehow managed to displace an entire group of people with one tiny drop of a shovel. One might assume that flooding a set of recently inhabited buildings and stopping a brand new construction project would be enough damage done for one accidental swing of a shovel, but you know what they say about making assumptions. The fact is, there's always more to the story... and it has been raining quite a bit lately. In fact, it's been raining nonstop for the past few days.
If you've been wondering why, wonder no longer. At precisely noon, a chime can be heard all around the city. Its tinny vibrations are impossible to miss, and those who have been around the block might recognize it from a long-ago treasure hunt — it's an all-call, a broadcast sent simultaneously over local television & radio stations as well as citizens' personal CuddlePhones, containing a message from Volunteer Coordinators Flora & Cornelius.
Like your favorite weather reporters, they've come out to the center of the action to report live on the recent happenings within the city — most notably the curiously shimmering rainfall and its potential impact on those who are exposed to it. It's Flora who delivers the bulk of the message, clearly reading off of a teleprompter in her slight twang, and looking quite confused by the entire ordeal. Also, she's drenched, the rain pouring down on her which she tries desperately to smile through, undeterred.
"The city's scientific community, after much research, has concluded that the pipes affected by the — er, puncture under the building site were filled with water typically filtered by the Energem. Due to the recent, totally innocuous, tooootally nothing to be concerned about fissure — oopsie-daisy, I wasn't supposed to say that — it appears that some of the Energem's magic has also leeched into the water during the fil-ter-ing pro-cess.
While the flooding has now thankfully subsided and the standing water has receded back into the underground reservoirs, it appears the affected water has at least partially been absorbed into the atmosphere, where it is being released in particularly ... enthusiastic rain showers. The rain itself seems to be affecting those who come into contact with it, making them less resistant to unfiltered communication or confessions. Did y'all know that I'm not a natural blonde? It's true! Ahem. Anyways! The current hy-po-thesis, while not yet confirmed by the city administration — well that's silly, we're the city administration! — is the Energem's intention to foster intimate connections has imbued the rain with, um, encouraging properties."
Finally done, Flora offers an friendly, reassuring smile. A voice can be heard clearly from behind the camera, male, and most definitely Cornelius: "Good job, darling! Except you sounded terrible. — I mean! I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said that. Hey, Flora? Do you think we maybe should've brought umbrellas before we —" And then the feed cuts off abruptly. Huh. What did she say about a fissure again? Could that have been a result of the recent earthquake?
Before anyone has too much time to overthink, the chime once again echoes out into the city. This time, it's a text bulletin from an account simply named THE CITY OF CADELLE. Fancy.
The city administration and local scientific community have advised that it may be in your best interest to remain indoor until this weather pattern subsides.
Naturally, such an advisory might make it difficult to attempt moving back in to the recently re-opened Welcome District, so hotel accommodations will be extended for the time being. In addition, complimentary umbrellas, raincoats, wellies, and galoshes will be available for pick-up at City Hall, should you have a need to venture out in this weather.
What will you do? Among the many, there are a few options to consider:
▸ You could decide to continue on, business as usual. It's just rain, isn't it? A little water never hurt anyone, and besides, you've got nothing to hide. If the Energem wants honesty, well, by golly, that's what it's going to get.
▸ You might prefer to be prepared — gather your umbrella and your wellies and trudge on, soldier. Try as you might to stay dry, a few drops might hit you here and there, but you're not panicked. You shower, you brush your teeth; what's a few raindrops on top of that?
▸ You might want to investigate! Collect samples of rainwater, and try your best not to be exposed to it too much in the process. The University's chemistry and life sciences departments are paying handsomely for well-preserved samples of this unique weather event, and while you'll have to battle the elements to get there, the monetary reward might be worth it for you. Or the satisfaction of contributing to scientific exploration, if that's more your thing. Either way!
▸ You may, however, not want a thing to do with it. Stay home — or in your new home-away-from-home, if that's where you're at — and more importantly, stay dry.
The city hopes that all of its citizens do try their best to stay dry and therefore unaffected by any unintended effects of this quite unseasonal rainfall.
Isn't this fun? Characters splashing about in shining, shimmering splendor puddles, getting soaked to the bone with magical rain that makes people want to spill all their secrets? Or perhaps avoiding it all by staying inside with a warm cup of hot chocolate and their favorite book. Of course, it's one thing to have rain that makes you truthful... but quite another to assume the rain just disappears. Any fourth grader will tell you that's not quite how things work.
You see, there's this fancy thing called the water cycle, where rainfall finds its way into groundwater sources, which are then filtered and utilized for city water supplies, which then feeds into all sorts of water-dependent utilities inside. Places like a shower, or perhaps a sink where people brush their teeth, or the tap water used to make coffee in the morning or to boil on the stove... the sky is the metaphorical limit here.
Feel free to get creative — maybe your character doesn't want to heed the city's warning, and continues on business as usual. Maybe they've already been exposed to enough rainwater to feel particularly chatty. Maybe they hole themselves up inside their room, but continued exposure to water via their daily two-hour bath or excessive showering habits (hey, we're not judging, maybe they're part mermaid) has lent its magic anyway.
Of course, you always have the ability to opt-out of any event, including this one. While the rain's effects are certainly encouraging, no one is ever forced to tell the truth — resistance might give someone a bit of a headache, or a queasy stomach, but characters will not drop dead or find themselves grievously ill unless you particularly want them to! (Please don't kill your character.)
Citizens may also respond to Flora and Cornelius's network post! Yes, it's true, we've got Cuddle City NPCs out and ready for action at long last. While they may wait until they return to the office to respond, feel free to speak with them via text, video, or audio and they'll be happy to chat. Simply respond to THIS COMMENT for a little interaction from Cuddle City's favorite (and only) Volunteer Representatives!
As always, your mod team is here for you with answers to any questions you might have, whether related specifically to this event or the game in general. If you have any further questions specific to this event, we encourage you to ask away on our QUESTIONS COMMENT here in this post. If you have general questions, or prefer a more private venue, our GENERAL INBOX (and SCREENED INBOX) is always available for you. In addition, if you've got an idea for a future event, feel free to drop us a line at our EVENTS SUGGESTION POST.
We hope you have fun out there — good, old fashioned, honest fun! |
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cuddlemods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cuddlecity2017-11-18 01:00 pm
no subject
isabelle knows better than to confuse attraction, lust with anything kindred to feelings—but he wasn't just some one night stand she'd indulged in a city she'd, at some point, be leaving. he was still stuck to her skin, because she's particular about the men she lets have her in such a way. ) Of course.
( and she has—felt that way. it doesn't bruise her to hear he's had other company within the city, nor does it strike her with the foreign lash of jealousy. rather... she wants that for him, someone to be kind with his griefs. someone to be patient. to look at him for more than those smart ass remarks she knows too well how to counter. )
Being with someone doesn't take away want, Rene. ( a thick thud within her chest, heat catching to her cheeks despite the rain curving over their rounds, stumbling past her lips. there's no way to take back the words, but she can't help the way brows thread together, the way she reels inwardly a moment at how telling a statement it was. )
It just wasn't... the timing was off. ( because why pretend this wasn't about them? )
no subject
she says his name. no cari, no niño, no other affectionate pet names she doles onto him as he does her. simply rene.
when they turn the corner, a familiar route towards the inner part of the city, he can catch a glimpse of the warmth on her cheeks even through the downpour. he's drenched from head to toe, even the soles of his shoes soaked through from accidental steps into puddles he was too distracted to notice. what she says is far more important, trumps anything and everything else.
she speaks about timing, and he knows that it's not just about the physical, the inexpressible chemistry that seems to ignite every time they're near one another. it goes deeper than that. )
I know. ( and because it feels like it bears repeating: ) I know. ( it still doesn't feel like enough. there's a part of him that wants to tell her what she deserves to know about him, basically claws at his gut and lingers on the tip of his tongue. ) But I'm happy you got someone like that. And you know I ain't lying about that —
( there's more still. it twists inside of him, and he tries, in vain, to fight it, brow furrowed and stomach knitting together like he's teetering over the edge of a cliff and he's so nervous it makes him queasy. rene hates the feeling, hates how unlike himself he feels by trying to hold it inside. so he stops. )
I don't know if I coulda been that for you. Don't know if I'd be ready. Don't know if I'll ever be ready — 'cause after Laura died ... I was sure that was it for me.
( he regrets saying her name the moment it leaves him, jaw set firmly once he realizes what he's said. he doesn't know why he'd brought it up; it was the first time he's spoken the name laura since he's been in this city, maybe longer. )
no subject
like a testament to it all there's another name falling past his tongue, and she can hear the hurt that lingers on it's edge like a knife, like he's so tempted to choke on the blood it leaves behind like a metallic tang at the back of his throat if it means he didn't have to say it.
there's a part of her, pausing right there when they've made it to the corner along the outskirts of the city, so close to her apartment yet achingly far, that hurts with him. she can see the way his own words haunt him, that flit at the edge of his jaw and the panic in averted gaze. was it her place to prod further, even if gently? he's telling her, but it doesn't seem like he wants to be, like it's of his own choice. for the moment her tongue remains stuck to the roof of her mouth, a heavy glaze of empathy crossing over her hues. it's not her burden to bear, yet it's the very curse of her nature, wishing nothing more than to be able to carry that hurt for him for just awhile. )
Is that- ( it's a tone that isn't often her own. it's weak, fragile and on the verge of breaking, quiet as if she could keep the both of them from breaking. a shaky exhale, raindrops stumbling over the bow of her lips. ) Is that why you're here?
( there's nothing accusatory in her tone. she chides herself, for imagining him as a man he wasn't. for having trouble picturing him bound to another, loyal, taken, but it's clear in the way he says the girl's name—laura—that she'd been that and more. that he'd lost her. he was sure that was it for him, but it begs the question if he still felt that way, here and now. )
no subject
( his brow remains furrowed, still trying to reconcile with the fact that he'd even contemplated telling someone that, let alone let his mouth run wild and actually done it. rene could've said that he doesn't feel like he deserves having some like her in his life after everything he's done, which is true, but something in him made it go even further, made him say something he's not sure if he'd ever even willingly admitted to himself.
it had been over a year since she died back in his world — one whole year, two months, a few days — and he'd never even considered anyone but laura. more time spent without her, a few months here in this city where, to get what he wants, he has to do more than just sit in his apartment with his head in his hands, do more than beat the shit out of a punching bag, all of those frustrations. having a real, genuine connection with somebody? being able to be there for them unconditionally, without slipping back into the grief he'd rather release in bullets fired into star city's worst?
it's a hard thing to consider, which is why he hadn't until now. and there's still her question — technically answered, but not fully. )
Maybe it should be. But I can't. Shouldn't. ( because it might not even change things. even if laura were still alive ...
zoe still might not have her mom, he still might not have his wife. there'd still be the drugs. the lies. things might end up going the same exact way. all he can do is try to help his future — no, zoe's future.
rene stops at a crosswalk, looks over at isabelle through the pouring rain and tries not to read into the expression on her face too much — the way her brows knit together, the concern in her eyes as she looks back at him, the slight downturn of the corners of her mouth. ) Think this is where I leave you.
( he's still in his city-given apartment and he knows that hers will mean turning down this street, considering he's been there before. that doesn't mean he wants to leave her right now, easy as it would be to forgo her company and the painful truths that seem to leave him like a broken dam. )
no subject
there's a splinter in his tone that begs her to leg it go. let that susurrous pattern of rain around them be blamed for the whisper of things that weren't really there, but she can't. she can't think about him walking away from her after letting her in the way he has, can't think about how the pain ridden across his features would blossom into an anger he doesn't know how to release.
maybe he wants more than anything to slip away from her, maybe he wants to stay but doesn't feel he should; she knows the look he carries, the signature line of it's better off this way. but she's not going to buy it, not now. and she's too stubborn to let him dictate what's best for her, to take away the choice that sits before her as thunder ripples overhead. a glance toward the road that leads to her apartment, tucking lips together before a quiet breath dispels. ) You don't have to leave.
( —but that's not enough. it's not all she wants to say, all that vines itself about her chest, and as she flits her own gaze betwixt each of his hues there's a vulnerability there, not just in him, but written across her all the same. )
—I dont want you to leave.
no subject
the roll of thunder overheard grabs his attention for a moment, makes him look up at the sky as though to question it, look at it accusatorially, making every part of this feel even heavier than it needs to be, with the dramatic streak of lightning in the sky, with the literal weight of his clothes sticking to him, his bag hanging from his shoulder feeling like a mass of all his guilt compacted.
instead, his gaze follows hers down the street towards isabelle's apartment. she doesn't want him to leave — she wants him to stay. there is a part of her that still cares about him, even if he thinks she shouldn't. if he's being honest, and he is, it's nice to feel — wanted again, and not even just in a physical way, even though he still longs to — do something. reach out. link his fingers with hers, give it a squeeze, let her know how much he appreciates her, 'cause he does.
rene doesn't like feeling vulnerable, and from the look on her face, the way he can map out the similarities between the two of them, he knows that isabelle doesn't, either. )
— You gotta take the first step, 'cause I can't.
( can't, mostly because going to isabelle's apartment feels dangerous. makes rene nervous in a way he knows he shouldn't be because he shouldn't be thinking the way that he's thinking. he's always been bad at following the rules, will say as much out loud. )
no subject
if ever there was a testament to her discipline, it was right now, making that decision to invite him in through that front door he'd crossed once before, rooms ridden in the velvet of night and want behind her as he'd stalked inside. of course she thinks about it, isn't naive enough to believe that bringing him back might not be the wisest of moves to anyone who's composure held the risk of fracturing.
her composure she couldn't promise, but she trusts herself enough to understand the boundaries that've been placed around them. the last thing she wants is to hurt anyone, to hurt baby, to hurt him—neither of them deserved it, and so she'll offer him the isabelle her family knew, that shadowhunters knew, reverent and unyielding in her compassion. she'll offer him a friend, even if it's far from all they'd ever be. )
Okay.
( a nod, a whisper, and there's relief there as much as there is that last, lingering bit of understanding that rests in matched gazes. at this rate they'll be lucky if they don't both catch a cold, but it'd be silly to rush the rest of the way when they've walked so casually along thus far—she'll take that next step, and the remainder that lay in the distance between that corner and a familiar entry, digging for keys once they're beneath the front awning, drips falling from both their frames steady enough to mimic the rain. )
no subject
this is why he likes isabelle. she's kind to a fault, even when the two of them both agree that she maybe shouldn't be. she's strong in her convictions, stronger than he could ever hope to be, but he knows that she's capable of making up for the restraint that he lacks — he's damn sure of it.
it's a quiet walk the rest of the familiar route to her apartment building, but rene doesn't quite mind, considering there's far too many thoughts in his head that seem to be teetering precariously on the tip of his tongue. your ass looks real good, mamí. i miss the way that candle in your bedroom smells. i don't know if i threw an extra pair of underwear in my bag before i left. damn, the burgers in this place are garbage compared to big belly burger. i want to kiss you real bad.
no, for once, rene remirez is happy to keep his mouth firmly shut, a glance or two stolen as they duck under the awning to her building the only indication of anything that's on his mind. the absence of rain is almost more jarring than the rain itself at this point, makes him breathe out a heavy sigh as the wind blows and he's made acutely aware of just how wet, just how fucking cold his clothes are as they cling to him mercilessly.
keys turn in the lock and they're inside in no time, rene not hesitating in the least as he follows her in, eager for a reprieve from this shitty weather. ) Dios, I'm freezing my ass off.
no subject
a cut from the breeze outdoors, a shelter from the rain; now, inside, they're met with themselves. ) Tu y yo ambos. ( a breath of syllables that rush past her lips, clicking locks into place once more behind them, a dramatic hush taking over the rhythmic storm outdoors.
it's still there, like a hum in reminder. right now she's distracted enough by the cold that's settled into her flesh, the slow of her pulse that demands she slip into something warmer before any escalation of prior conversation could continue. no, they've never truly had a night together that wasn't spent with tripping breaths and sweeps of pleasure, but does she believe they're capable of it? of course.
gym bag is set within the kitchen's sink, no use in flooding out the counter, slipping out of shoes as a flushed breath escapes her, cheeks ridden in a blush that's more from the cold, tinging even at the button of her nose. ) If there's anything you need, my brother's left behind a few things. ( a nod toward his own duffel that's over his shoulder. shirts, a pair of sweats, should those within his bag have gotten just as much attention from the rain water as they had. ) I, ah—
( a pause, chewing at the corner of her lip, the briefest moment of recognition as to the current between them halting her in her tracks. thoughts are shaken away, tucking hair behind her ear before she makes to head toward her bedroom. ) Towels are in the spare bathroom, just up here. ( indication of a door none too far from her room, pausing with a glance back over her shoulder, just before slipping through the privacy of parted double doors. )
Make yourself comfortable.