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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

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."

"How impressive," he notes. "Is there any reason why your family were the only ones to bond with the sea? I imagine if no one else has it can be quite difficult."

The sea is a powerful, ambivalent force in his world. In most worlds. He admires its raw power and beauty, but never quite saught to capture it for himself.

"It was in the time of the Ring Wars." She rises when she has finished descaling, deboning, and for a woman so otherwise shy and delicate about herself, in turn when she cleans up the mess of fish guts and viscera into the lake. Waste not, want not, and there would be some hungry other fish that would be eager to take the bite. "All were needed for the great fight against the Shadow King. But the Sea had not joined the fight, as all the other great spirits had. For it is no little thing for a Spirit or Mortal to enter into a bond."

With that cleaned, she went about finally carving it to fillets for them to eat, the headset aside for him with its eyeballs washed. "It was said, St. Loe? My Ancestor? His love was pure. His devotion to those around him was absolute. That appealed to the Great Sea Spirit, so when St. Loe begged for help to save his life? The sea answered."

Any Sea Spirit, he imagines, wouldn't be so benevolent. The sea is unpredictable, torrential, and answers to no one. Maybe that's why he'd always had such a fondness for it and the creatures residing in it. Maybe he just likes the idea of something that can't be tamed but is still so revered. It's hard to say.

"What a fascinating story," he hums. "In my world, there are no such things as spirits or powers like yours. But as a researcher- I'd absolutely love to learn more about them."

That hurts her to think. Spirits are so bound to everything she understands about life, so part of the world as she knows it. To not have them?

"How... How... Oh I'm so sorry that must be dreadful."

"It's fine, really," he comments. "I suppose I can't miss what I've never had, right?" Spirits are an interesting notion in theory, but he prefers Science and the ways it makes sense of his world.

"Perhaps I'll get more familiar with them here and be able to relay the information home."

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(event) WAY DOWN WE GO

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