An Introduction to Magic

An Introduction to Magic
Date of Scene:	06 January 2013
Location:	Traverse Town
Synopsis:	Welcome to charming Traverse Town. See the lovely lakes, the friendly townspeople-- the poisoned apples.
Cast of Characters:	Maira, Edgar Roni Figaro

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Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
Ah. It is a terrible night to have a curse.

Or perhaps no map. The portents are not exactly clear on the details. Nevertheless, when you find yourself in a strange place without any earthly notion of how you arrived the first thing a king must not do is yelp in surprise. It is woefully unbecoming of a monarch of any nation to find themselves standing at the intersection of city streets watching a giant chicken cross the street. They are armored sufficiently to place a blacksmith's son completely through their apprenticeship and a king does not open gape or point out to the nearest human(looking) individual that there is in fact, a giant chicken crossing the street. This is simply not a thing that is done, even if he was not a king right now.

In fact, Edward has swathed himself in somewhat ragged desert attire that has been even more beraggled by the course of a long and protracted combat the details of which are Not Available In This Intro (Read the Sidebar that comes up)
% But then-- all these things that should not be done, about dignity and the calm stoicism in which one must take life?

Hmm. Maybe Edgar fell asleep during parts of these courses because he is grinnly widely like a great fool. It is with a sense of great wonder that he stands peering curiously around him-- and if he is peering perhaps in the direction of several female adventurers that are ALSO crossing his path on their way to wherever it is their fate binds them? Ah well. That is just a pleasant side note in this adventure.

He is very lost, and there are important things that must eventually take the place of this wandering, but that does not mean he should not /enjoy/ being lost for the moment at least.

Maira has posed:
Still a little red-nosed from her cold, Maira is out in about and feeling a little better. Perhaps a touch feverish still, but she simply cannot stay still any longer! She must be missing so many interesting things! That could not be stood for. A curious young woman must wander and seek out new experiences.

Thus, in a white sweater with pink stripes and black pants she probably stole from Avira's closet, Maira heads out into Traverse town, intent on a cup of hot chocolate. That would make her all better, right?

On her way, a new face catches her eye, dressed in strange clothing. Maira tilts her head slightly as she watches the man from a little ways off, her curiosity piqued. Not that that was difficult or anything. "He looks lost," Maira says to Uist, her unseen companion. Uist meanwhile just sighs and shakes his head, wondering what sort of trouble Maira is going to get herself into now.

From there, Maira makes a bee line toward Edgar, offering a friendly smile and a greeting. "Hello! You look lost. Need some help?"

Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
Ah. Providence.

Cry for aid to the heavens and they shall give you a sign. A beautiful, beautiful sign.

"Certainly I am that." Edgar says to Maira with a warm smile. "But I am willing to remain there if I can at least learn the name of my rescuer." he makes a grand gesture to all of the activity around him, sweeping his ragged cloak before him in a courtly bow that is completely undamaged by the shabbiness of his appearance. "And I would be a fool to not offer mine. My name is Edgar Figaro."

he did not see the harm in using the name, where it most likely meant little or nothing, in a place where even familiarity has taken a wrong turn and fallen down some stairs.

"--And I must confess, I am ashamed to find myself in such a state while traveling amongst such wonders but-- alas-- a long desert journey and a woeful tale of adventure has led me to this sad shambles. I am bereft to be seen by such a beautiful lady in such conditions, but I suppose it cannot be helped. Only survived."

Maira has posed:
Oh my. Why is it that she keeps meeting these dashing men with golden tongues? It beginning to become common place, though that certainly does not mean she is immune to the charm. Indeed, she blushes as if on cue. "Ah, I'm Maira...just Maira. Goodness, everyone seems to have two names around here," she replies, then sniffles a little. Darn cold! Now, how to respond to all this. The flattery leaves her flushed, but (luckily?) she's getting a little more use to such things from Ivo. Of course, this wasn't Ivo. This was..."Edgar, nice to meet you! People get lost here a lot. Its sort of an in between place, you know? A-and you look fine, really! You don't have to impress me. I'm already impressed! I mean, um--" Maira trails off, then had a rather convenient fit of coughing.

When she recovers, she asks, "Did...something happen to your world?" prepared to hear another tale of woe. He did say so himself. Though, there was much about desert adventures too...heh...dessert adventures would be nicer! Maira laughs at her own inner joke, then flushes again, realizing that looks kind of crazy.

Right then.

Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
"A conceit, I assure you, of those who have entirely too much time on their hands." He says this with a perfectly straight face, although the eyes glittering with humor would probably be the first sign of him-- being less than stoicly honest. "I will nevertheless leave a third name a mystery for another meeting, just in case such a thing would be overwhelming."

Edgar waits patiently for her to stop her convienient bit of coughing, in which he suddenly has a pervading love of architecture bloom full blown and absorbs himself in the details of the floor pavings. When her coughing ends, his smile returns. It's a mischievious thing that lights up his face.

"Oh--- but of course, my lady. Apples." he says this with a raised finger as if they were an artifact of holiness. "I found myself sorely at a lack for such a small thing, and my journey has been such as to baffle the gods. Blinding heat as to cook a man in his armor. Scouring sands to strip a man of his illusions. A well defined lack of anything approaching an apothetcary or a green grocer."

"I suppose all journeys have their little hardships, and their unexpected moments of welcome relief. Tell me, Maira. What is this place I have found myself in? A town, a city of the lost? Why--" his smile quirks ever so slightly at that. "How very much like a fairy tale."

Maira has posed:
Maira blinks, confused. Did he say...apples? He been on an adventure and come out of it with his clothes looking as they do...looking for /apples?/. Apples are tasty and all but...well..Maira shrugs. In retrospect, she'd been on a whole quest that revolved around ice cream and made herself wanted in Baron over a donut! Food is important business, clearly.

"Apples. So...I take it you didn't actually find any apples huh?" she asks, looking sympathetic. "I bet we could find apples here! I know just the place to look," she says, then scoots past him and waves him along to follow her, at which point she can answer his questions about Traverse Town.

"Mmmhmm. You are in Traverse Town. Lot of people end up here lately, what with...all that is going on with the Heartless and worlds falling to darkness...." she says, trailing off. Unpleasant subject alert! "Ahem--so, yeah. It is very welcoming though. I've been living here for a little while now. It is like a fairy tale isn't it? Heh...you'll see a lot of stuff like that, probably. Really, you talk like you've stepped out of storybook! I bet you'd get along just great with Faruja and Ivo," she says with a nod.

"Aha! Look!" she says, pointing as she finds the fruit cart. It is run by a totally not suspicious at all old woman offering shiny red apples.

Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
"Then I must admit to entertaining the thought that I am the one with the fever, lady Maira-- due to the nature of the landscape, and your seemingly endless font of welcome."

Edgar sweeps himself along about a pace and a half behind her, boots clicking faintly on the cobbles as he follows. As she starts to answer his questions, and some of the ones he hasn't asked yet, and presented him names and concepts that are both familiar and unfamiliar, he logs it all away coming to a stop near the old womans stall.

"Ah, but you are a treasure, Maira." he says in an amused whisper, lips quirking into a smile as he gives the old woman a charming smile and buys several of the offending objects of storytelling that he is now left in charge of.

"Perfect. This story can come to a satisfactory close because of your aid. Tell me what I might do to repay such a gracious favor."

Maira has posed:
"Here you go deary," the old woman says, smiling a gap-toothed smile. Her eyes seem to laugh though her mouth does not as she passes a small bag of apples over to Edgar. "Best apples you will ever taste. Enjoy!" she wheezes, waving them off.

She is totally not holding in a cackle.

Maira turns toward Edgar, shaking her head a little. "Oh no no, I didn't really do anything! I mean, if you had wandered around a little more you would have found the apples yourself, I just...helped a little! It really isn't a big deal. You don't have to repay me or anything. I just hope you enjoy those apples," she says, glancing over her shoulder at the old woman. "Huh...I guess she's new here too. Haven't seen her before...lot of new people recently," she remarks with a small shrug.

"So, now that you have apples, are you going home? Where are you from? Maybe I've been there! I doubt it, but maybe..."

Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
Edgar Rene Figaro was not born yesterday

Sadly, he might as well have been because he has no concern for personal safety at this juncture. Or-- perhaps because of his profession, duty and hobbies, it could be said that he had NEVER had any regard for those things.

However, it could never be said that he would scorn an opportunity to make himself look good in front of a beautiful woman, even if said woman appears to be somewhat loopy with the infirmity of a minor affliction. "And modest as well. Well, my brave rescuer," he takes a bite of the apple, deciding to eat the results of his deflection of topic rather than simply do away with them. It would be a shameless waste.

"--if it is questions that you demand in return for your services than I shall not turn you away. It is a world, and-- it is like many others, in that there are kind souls and wicked. And perhaps inbetween people try to survive as best they can survive. As to returning?" he says this with a peculiar twist of his lips that is almost sardonic.

"Perhaps not just yet, my lady." he takes another bite and finds somewhere out of the way in which to sit. "May I know a little about my interrogator, or shall the questions continue until everything I have is laid bare?"

Maira has posed:
Maira grows immediately flustered as he assumes that answers to her questions are the payment she desires. "Oh! No no, really, I don't need payment of any kind, I just ask because I'm curious! But...well...I /am/ curious, so I suppose if that is the way this must be done..." Maira says, reaching up to tap her chin lightly in thought. Then, she shrugs, following him to a bench where they can sit and chat.

"Well, yes, I guess you can ask me questions too. I don't mind," she says, flashing him a brilliant smile. Though of course that would require her to stop asking questions first, which is quite a feat. "What do you want to know? And why don't you want to go home just yet? Is the weather not nice? Are there Heartless? Oh! That reminds me, you should be careful here...its usually pretty safe but ever now and then I seem to get attacked by Heartless here. I don't know. It is very disturbing," she informs him, her eyes wide.

...Then moving on! "How is the apple? I hope it was worth the journey!"

The apple is, indeed, delicious. It is perfect in color and shape, not a single mark on it. Which, really, ought to tip them off that maybe, maybe this apple isn't all it seems to be. It is very juicy and tastes wonderful, though Edgar might notice a little bit of a strange aftertaste.

Psst. That's what Magic tastes like.

Edgar Roni Figaro has posed:
Edgar is actually familiar with magic.

No. That isn't quite correct. He is familiar with the consequences of magic. These usually include running, screaming, fighting, more running and -- none of these things are good things. In his world, magic does NOT come like a sneaking thief in the dark. It comes with a rending of the fabric of good manners and common sense and any point in the journey is very unsettling.

The Apple being a Trap is a Greatly Surprising Thing. "Hm. I may have made-- a slight error." he says in a calm, neutral voice. He frowns at the apple in question and then gives a wide smile to Maira. "My lady." he pauses as the room begins to spin in technicolor rainbow. "I am pleased to announce... that it is delicious."

and the fool of a king passes out right there questions or not.

Maira has posed:
See, Maira would have known. As soon as she tasted the apple she would have known. This is because she is a potion maker herself, and could, if she put her mind to it, probably make a poisoned apple. Though she would certainly never do that!

Poor Edgar does not know.

Maira watches him, pursing her lips. "Are...are you alright?" she asks, reaching toward him hesitantly as he begins to sway--only to have his head fall right into her lap anyway. "Eep! Ah..ah...Sir? Edgar? Oh dear..." she says, looking around for help. Of course, the apple seller is gone.

Maira reaches over Edgar (suffocating him only momentarily....) to grab the apple and give it a sniff. She makes a face. "Sleeping poison..." she remarks, shocked. Maira looks down at Edgar then, not sure what to do. "Oh...dear..."