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(event) WAY DOWN WE GO

EVENT LOG: WAY DOWN WE GO

AUGUST 14TH - 24TH

 ►  THE BASICS

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 ►  MOD NOTES

This log is a general dump for all log threads pertaining to August's Way Down We Go event - and in lieu of the lack of catch-all for August, you can feel free to do non-event log threads here as well! Go ahead and utilize vestigenet for any event-related network posts you'd like to make.
The main chunk of the event takes place between the IC dates August 17th (reveal of the hatch) and August 22nd (the latest the spelunkers can be freed before they drown). No rush leaping on this event post, since I know most folks are honestly still plotting about it.
All event information can be found on the July Event Infopost!
Please take special care in this event to label your top-levels with identifying information such as the IC date, any prompts specifically pertaining to event roles (spelunker, rescue efforts, etc), and/or 'non-event' for any non-event prompts you may include. Just trying to keep things organized!
I'm going to help solidify the plotting efforts over the next few days to help make sure everyone's on the same page, but none of it will be set in stone just in case latecomers want in too. If you want in, chime in on the spelunkers, rescue efforts, or support roles top-levels as applicable!
Any questions can be directed to this top-level or, for a quicker response, to Trace on discord/plurk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Gilia turns her head, water clinging to her thin robes and moulding them to her body - and yelps, immediately pulling back and attempting to cover herself with her hands and arms.

"Sir. I - I am not sure - we should be - that is - I am quite fine - not that I am not glad for your, your offer to - but I do not - not that I do not need - I'm -"

Whatever she's trying to say doesn't come out easily, and she settles for throwing herself further down into the water to hide. Perish this thought - caught! Caught in her underthings. She thought she had been alone.

Oh. She's shy. Innocent. It excites him more than it has any right to, really, but he doesn't let it show. Instead, he stops his steps towards the water and raises a hand to hover in front of his glasses.

"My apologies," he says, tilting his head and smiling. "My culture is a little more open about our state of dress." A beat, considering. "Or lack thereof." While it isn't an outright lie, he might be exaggerating a bit. People on Zenith don't go around in their underthings; at least, not in public.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I only wanted to help."

"Thank you, sir, I am sure you meant no ill to me." That she takes at face value, just a misunderstanding. "I was simply trying to fish, not expose myself in any way indecently."

She's just head and shoulders above the water, treading it easily, letting it lap at her chip as she keeps her face down towards the edge. A cool relief on her bright pink flaming cheeks and how her whole body was hot with embarrassment.

"Of course," he replies, smiling all the while. "My offer still stands though, actually. I can help. I might not look it, but I'm practically made for underwater excursions."

He doesn't look it in the slightest. All she'll see at a glance is a rail-thin, professionally dressed man. "I can even keep my eyes closed, if that helps. And to even the playing field a little-"

Oh, he's. He's stripping. That's a thing he's doing now. Eyes still closed, as promised, he begins to unbutton his shirt.

The second she realizes what he is doing - she snaps right around to turn her back to him. "No that is not at all necessary, sir."

Does she sound like she is desperate? Oh she hopes she's not being rude, but it was completely out of her depth. Sea-Father preserve her, her advisors did not ever prepare for what to do if a man starts undressing near her. That was reserved for her wedding night, no less.

To his credit (no), he does actually keep his pants on at her protest. The shirt is entirely cast aside though without a care; he's all lean muscle and rail-thin but not bad to look at. He seems confident enough in his body, at least.

"I insist," he responds, followed by the sound of sloshing water when he finally dives in. It's eerily quiet after he submerges but finally, right before her, an octopus-esque tentacle breaks the water surface. It's curled around a fish flopping frantically and trying to escape but the grip is too strong for it to wriggle free.

He comes up for air not long after with his eyes still closed but laughing a little. He's at least a good few feet in front of her to respectfully distance. Still, he seems rather pleased with himself. He actually missed swimming more than he realized. "There," he says, once he's caught his breath. "I'm feeling around for more, but they're being tricky."

Against the cool of the water, when he is so near to her, he is dreadfully war, as she could feel, radiating across the space to her as he presents the fish.

Which comes second, to the first and most apparent thing - all his tentacles. Splashing about as he holds up the small wriggling animal, and Gilia is stuck staring.

And then it finally clicks that she can feel his warmth, because he is close, and she yelps, her face going redder, somehow, then gingerly taking the fish from him with a little strangled: "thank you."

His tentacles are impressive. He doesn't blame her in the slightest for being taken by them; most people are. One might skim past her leg as it searches for most fish. Oh, actually- There's one. He rings his tentacle around it and also draws it above water. "And there's one for me," he says. "I thought we might have lunch?"

He might be asking her out, like, right now. Sorry for his lack of tact, he just figures while they're both partially undressed and swimming is a good time to try and shoot his shot apparently.

"If not, I understand," he continues on, swimming just a bit nearer. Impressively, his eyes are still closed but his smile says all that they can't. "But I would like to find another time to meet eventually." He's trying to have some guise of gentlemanlyness despite all this.

Gilia continues trying not to stare, for a bit. It is moderately successful, if only because she has perfect the art of looking at nothing at all.

Lunch? Well. Lunch seems just fine. Of course, if she knew at all what he was implying it would be utterly mortifying.

But luckily for Quin, she has not a clue in her fluffy little head what is going on.

"Of course, shall I prepare it for us?"

If anything it got her out of the water and got her dressed away from prying eyes. This had to count as one of the most embarrassing things to have happened to her that she could recall.

What a loss for her. He's quite the sight! Or so he thinks so. She does accept his offer, however, and it causes his smile to grow. "Wonderful," he says. "If you'd like. I'm not a bad cook myself, but I wouldn't mind having someone else take over. It's been a while."

Too long. Anyway.

He also dresses again once dry and places his glasses squarely on his face again. Finally, the man blinks open his eyes and sighs. The light is a little strong but not awful. His tentacles have receded back to the pockets of skin they came from and so he looks once more just the average man.

"Oh, no I could not possibly after you have done so much for me already in helping me catch our meal."

But most especially it gives her a chance to put some space between them. She slides behind a tree out of sight, before she regresses herself as quickly as possible. Using her blessed water to help dry off her underclothes and hair. That when she emerges, any sight of wildness in her, magical or otherwise, is gone. She is once more a woman of her station. Refined and removed, as she goes back to the fire and join him once more.

"I am sorry you had to see me in such a state, I hope that I may make amends for it, and redeem myself to some degree of respectability."

"Think nothing of it, really." Effort? He hardly knows her. Quin has been handed most things on a silver platter for the majority of his life; it's a wonder, then, how he knows how to hunt like he does. Curious indeed.

He takes note of the change. She's still beautiful, all the same, but he can respect the refinement and grace of her currently.

"I think you're more bothered about it than I was, to be honest. You still have my respect- Perhaps even more so than before! I love a woman who's more than she appears to be on the surface."

"I am glad you say so, though I fear I am as I appear to be." To her mind, she is not so much stranger or different to anyone else, only that her spirit is particular to her family, as other spirits are particular to other families.

"Dinner will not take long, so please, make yourself comfortable."

Mm. He'll let her believe what she wants to, but he'll try his best to find that wild side again. The woman in her underthings trying to catch fish with magic is far more fun. He hopes to meet her again someday.

At her comment, he finds himself finding a seat as comfortably as he can. "Oh, right, I apologize- Part of my profession, I suppose. Scientists can be a bit stuffy." Which is hilarious because he's actually anything but. Likely, she already gathered that from the way he was so eager to strip down and go swimming.

"I am afraid you catch me again - pray tell, what is a 'scientist'? Is it a kind of spirit?"

It's ventured as polite as everything else, as she works at descaling the fish in scalpel-like strokes of the water.

He watches her work but is also more than happy to blab about his profession.

"Oh, no, not quite- A scientist is someone who studies Science. There are different branches. I'm a biologist, so I study natural life. Technically, a Xenobiologist so I study the natural life of other planets."

"How marvellous. Do you enjoy the work?"

She still rightly has no idea what it means exactly, but she understands it vaguely, so that would be a good first step.

"I love it," he says, in a surprising moment of sincerity. He is very passionate about his work, anyone can tell.

"And what is your profession?"

To her understanding, a profession is something far different. She blinks a moment, "I have never been taken in under apprenticeship. Unless you count my mother, and I grew up in her shadow."

She cleared her throat. She had no want to sound overly grand or impose herself at another. "... I suppose you may call me something like... Prince? But we do not use that word. I am the leader of my people with my elder brother."

In his time, the two can be interchangable. Like many here though, he recognizes that she's likely from a place more... antiquated.

"Oh, you're royalty. How fascinating! You wouldn't consider yourself a queen since you rule your people? You're beautiful and graceful as one, I must say, so I think that title would suit you."

His compliments work their charm, she fumbles a moment, blinking at him with wide eyes before she swallows, and fixes back on her task.

The fish descaled, she began by removing the head of it, so she could go about cutting it half and deboning it. "We do not use any of those words. My title is Second Child of St Loe, First Daughter of the Sea. My elder brother is First Child, First Son of the Sea." It doesn't surprise her to not be known. The world often preffered her family to be no one and nothing to them. "We do not fashion ourselves as Kings and Queens, we care only for our duty to those around us."

She looks akin to a fawn, he realizes as she blinks at him so, and maybe that's why he's already so invested. As she removes the head, he does make a small request: "May I have the eyes?"

There's no follow-up to that though so for what is unclear. He actually just wants to eat them, admittedly, but also enjoys keeping a certain air of mystery. "How altruistic of you," he comments. "It sounds better than nobility, in that case. A lot of those in power tend to abuse it."

He would know.

"We seek humility in the face of power, not aggrandizement. I should never wish to cause another pain through my own pride. It would be so cruel, would it not? I do not know how another could live with themselves in the face of it. I would rather cast myself aside than do so."

She looks so briefly like she expects all the world to be so good. So kind. Like such a thing is a quantifiable base on which all things are built.

With his request, and does as he wants, and sets aside the eyes, scooping them out. Even in face of such a relatively gruesome task, there is gentleness. No forceful pulling and yank. The fish is removed of all it's parts and bones as spins it around, suspended in water.

How stupid, he thinks, but doesn't say. To have all that power and not use it for your own gain. He's never cared for who he's stepped on during his climb up the ranks of success; he's never been concerned with who his pride might have sliced. Anyone that stood in his way deserved to be cast aside. So it's fascinating to him, honestly, that she seems so genuine.

It reminds him briefly of his brother but he quells those feelings easily

"The world needs more people like you," he hums. More kindness to take advantage of, more fools to use. "And thank you." A beat as he watches her work her 'magic.'

"Is that a trait of your line? Being ones of the sea?"

"Yes. That is the bond we have made. Anyone can bond with any spirit, and many have bonded with all kinds, over the centuries. But we are the only family that has ever bonded with the sea."

It's a story she had been told many times, over and over. "It has made us strong, ever since."

(event) WAY DOWN WE GO

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i dont have an icon horrified enough

that's a common problem cr with quin has

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