[Crackplotty Mingler] The Aftermath: Scattered Seeds, Buried Lives
It's been a few days since everything broke loose. Mansion dwellers counted their dead and their disappeared, mourned as they could, healed who could be healed, and treasures of creativity were found to shield everyone from the cold northern winds that blew over the grounds ever since the earth shook.
Igloos were built by the Merlin, for one - but homes were made of workspaces, too, the barn and the stables were put to contribution, as was the chapel, the gazebo, the elven greenhouse and forges.
It seemed as though the unlikely pensioners would find a way to keep striving.
And yet, one clear morning, after the storm has settled, the familiar frame of the Mansion reappears on the ground's horizons.
It happens as the sun rises - as though it were a living thing waking with the dawn, the great home extends to the heavens. It is a matter of a few hours before its facade is up, and another few before windows and doors are hinged.
For those adventurous enough to go in, they will find that the Mansion is warm inside - as though it had never been snowed in. The common room is as it's always been, as are many of its little lounges. The staircase creaks where it has always creaked, and the plothole is right where it's always been.
It's silent, though - eerily so, for it is currently empty.
It's only a matter of time, though.
[OOC: Title stolen from Portishead's Sour Times.
As promised, it's up. Not Merlin's doing, I'm just highjacking his journal for the purposes of this post. We know people are still tagging on the other post, take your time, but know that this post is up and ready, whenever you are.
Timeline is flexible - you may use this post to play out temporary living arrangements as well, or to play out a return, or an exploration of the Mansion. Do note that there is no obligation to return to the Mansion - so if your puppet isn't ready to trust it just yet, it's okay to play it out, of course.
Puppet private quarters will be found in conditions up to the puppet's typist, up to their original states, though the Mansion has not upgraded.
Posted with mod approval.]
Igloos were built by the Merlin, for one - but homes were made of workspaces, too, the barn and the stables were put to contribution, as was the chapel, the gazebo, the elven greenhouse and forges.
It seemed as though the unlikely pensioners would find a way to keep striving.
And yet, one clear morning, after the storm has settled, the familiar frame of the Mansion reappears on the ground's horizons.
It happens as the sun rises - as though it were a living thing waking with the dawn, the great home extends to the heavens. It is a matter of a few hours before its facade is up, and another few before windows and doors are hinged.
For those adventurous enough to go in, they will find that the Mansion is warm inside - as though it had never been snowed in. The common room is as it's always been, as are many of its little lounges. The staircase creaks where it has always creaked, and the plothole is right where it's always been.
It's silent, though - eerily so, for it is currently empty.
It's only a matter of time, though.
[OOC: Title stolen from Portishead's Sour Times.
As promised, it's up. Not Merlin's doing, I'm just highjacking his journal for the purposes of this post. We know people are still tagging on the other post, take your time, but know that this post is up and ready, whenever you are.
Timeline is flexible - you may use this post to play out temporary living arrangements as well, or to play out a return, or an exploration of the Mansion. Do note that there is no obligation to return to the Mansion - so if your puppet isn't ready to trust it just yet, it's okay to play it out, of course.
Puppet private quarters will be found in conditions up to the puppet's typist, up to their original states, though the Mansion has not upgraded.
Posted with mod approval.]