Aes Sedai Quest [Wheel of Time]
- Thread starter Choo Choo
- Start date
redzonejoe
Vaguely Pastafarian
- Location
- Canada
Unless we're looking for somebody to cook our eggs for us, I don't think this follows the 'Everything is normal...?' guideline imposed upon us.
Everything is normal, but we have the impression we're looking for the way out.
At least based on Nyneave's Accepted testing, remembering there was something you had to do is normal, but remember what it was is not, until you see it.
redzonejoe
Vaguely Pastafarian
- Location
- Canada
Yeah it's been a bit since I've read it. But what my foggy memory tells me is that her need to find/do something was more like an intrusive thought while she otherwise went about her day as normal.
Having it be the focus of a vote, otoh, makes it our primary thought and motivation rather than the irritating nagging feeling it's supposed to be.
Then again, like I said, been a while so I might be way off. *shrug*
Gadjo
Doka
[X] What a wonderful day! Isn't family great? Sure, the building can't compare to the wonders of Tar Valon, but it's still brilliant, in its own way. It's good to be home. Now why'd I think a thought as queer as that?
This seems more in character with how we're supposed to be convinced that we're just having a mundane day.
This seems more in character with how we're supposed to be convinced that we're just having a mundane day.
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lavanderjasmine
Master of decoration
- Location
- R'lyeh
[X] What a wonderful day! Isn't family great? Sure, the building can't compare to the wonders of Tar Valon, but it's still brilliant, in its own way. It's good to be home. Now why'd I think a thought as queer as that?
redzonejoe
Vaguely Pastafarian
- Location
- Canada
Also that vote contains an implication of happiness, drawing us further into the illusion. While a part of us is unsettled, the rest of us is just so happy to be there. It's not just a regular day, it's a great day too.
Just fyi. May or may not have an effect on things.
Just fyi. May or may not have an effect on things.
Being lost to the vision is one of the lose conditions apparently.
Its not quite an illusion FYI.
This is a severely misused dimensional exploration device of some form.
redzonejoe
Vaguely Pastafarian
- Location
- Canada
Can't have things be too easy right?
EtchedSteel
*mumble mumble*
- Location
- Lima. Peru
[X] What a wonderful day! Isn't family great? Sure, the building can't compare to the wonders of Tar Valon, but it's still brilliant, in its own way. It's good to be home. No
The Arches, 3
Choo Choo
THE GRIEF TRAIN HAS NO BRAKES
- Location
- Sweden -> California
- Pronouns
- She/her
It takes you longer than it should to get ready. For some reason your own dresses feel odd to you, though you can't fathom why when you've worn gowns like these all your life! You think you might have had a dream, still lingering. You do what you can do shake it off as you go about your routine. Still, your fingers fumble over the mother-of-pearl buttons and hesitate with long ribbons as if it's been years since you've maneuvered such things. The bright-colored silks feel odd, the many layers of ruffles and the puffy sleeves foreign, and it must have been a very strange dream that you had for it to affect you like this.
You eventually settle on a dress of green and gold, eyeing yourself critically in the mirror. The face staring back at you is still round with the last of baby fat, and that feels odd, too. You pat your cheeks uncertainly. Still, for all that the odd dream clouds your thoughts, you still feel like this is going to be a good day. It is bright and sunny outside your window, the trees are deep green with late summer, and you can hear the sweet trills of birds. It'll be good to see your family too, you've missed them so badly, and you haven't seen them since- since yesterday. Since yesterday. You snort at your own strange thoughts.
There's a knock on the door, timid and respectful. "Lady Morricone?" It's Anira, your mother's handmaiden. "Do you be awake?"
"I be awake, yes," you reply and reach for your hairbrush. The ornate silver handle gives you a moment's pause; you expected it to be plain wood, for some inane reason. Wood!
"Your lord father and lady mother, they do request your presence in their chambers," Anira says, her voice sad. "Ryma Sedai, she do be saying that... that it will no be long, now."
Not be long? Ryma Sedai? You frown - the name sounds familiar. Ryma Sedai, Ryma Sedai... she is Yellow Ajah, you think. You've seen her... where? Here, of course, where else? But what is she doing here, at the estate? "No be long?"
"It do no be my place, my lady," Anira says. "I must return to my duties." You hear her footsteps hurry off down the hall.
Not be long. You bite your lip, a habit you thought you'd long since lost, as you consider what that might mean. None of the options you can think of are good, especially not in connection with an Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, the Healing Ajah. Anira made it sound like you should know what is happening. Why don't you know what is going on? You put the brush down, deciding that your hair is neat enough, and leave your room.
The way back will come but once.
Your eyes stare uncomprehending at the familiar-not-familiar corridor outside, and you stand frozen as one of the statues lining the niches. It's the estate, your home, with its cool marble floors and vaulted ceilings designed to keep the sticky summer heat at bay, but it's decorated in white. White, blank tapestries hanging on the walls, white flowers in every vase, white white white and then you realize that for the first time in your life, the manor is quiet. You are the eldest of nine children, all of you closely spaced in age, and the eerie silence makes you want to scream just so that you can break it.
White is the color of mourning. White is the color of death.
You have never cared much for decorum, and right now the Dark One himself can take such things for all you care. With your heart in your throat, you hike up your voluminous skirts to your knees and run to your parents' chambers, ignoring the stares you get from white-dressed servants as you rush by them. You don't care what they think of you.
Be steadfast.
You open the door to your parents' bedroom, and flinch back at the sickly-sweet smell that hits you like a wall. You know that smell, from the infirmary- no, from when your grandmother passed away; it's the smell of disease. Your parents are both in bed still, pale and sweaty and shivering. Off to the side stands a slim, elegant woman with the timeless face of an Aes Sedai, with a sad frown on her face. She is wearing her shawl, fringed in yellow. Your father's tired eyes light up when he sees you, though his beloved face is lined with sickness and deep sorrow. Your mother is past seeing anything at all; her vacant stare goes right through you.
"Lucia!" Father croaks and tries to sit up, to no avail. "Lucia, come here."
[] Write-in
You eventually settle on a dress of green and gold, eyeing yourself critically in the mirror. The face staring back at you is still round with the last of baby fat, and that feels odd, too. You pat your cheeks uncertainly. Still, for all that the odd dream clouds your thoughts, you still feel like this is going to be a good day. It is bright and sunny outside your window, the trees are deep green with late summer, and you can hear the sweet trills of birds. It'll be good to see your family too, you've missed them so badly, and you haven't seen them since- since yesterday. Since yesterday. You snort at your own strange thoughts.
There's a knock on the door, timid and respectful. "Lady Morricone?" It's Anira, your mother's handmaiden. "Do you be awake?"
"I be awake, yes," you reply and reach for your hairbrush. The ornate silver handle gives you a moment's pause; you expected it to be plain wood, for some inane reason. Wood!
"Your lord father and lady mother, they do request your presence in their chambers," Anira says, her voice sad. "Ryma Sedai, she do be saying that... that it will no be long, now."
Not be long? Ryma Sedai? You frown - the name sounds familiar. Ryma Sedai, Ryma Sedai... she is Yellow Ajah, you think. You've seen her... where? Here, of course, where else? But what is she doing here, at the estate? "No be long?"
"It do no be my place, my lady," Anira says. "I must return to my duties." You hear her footsteps hurry off down the hall.
Not be long. You bite your lip, a habit you thought you'd long since lost, as you consider what that might mean. None of the options you can think of are good, especially not in connection with an Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, the Healing Ajah. Anira made it sound like you should know what is happening. Why don't you know what is going on? You put the brush down, deciding that your hair is neat enough, and leave your room.
The way back will come but once.
Your eyes stare uncomprehending at the familiar-not-familiar corridor outside, and you stand frozen as one of the statues lining the niches. It's the estate, your home, with its cool marble floors and vaulted ceilings designed to keep the sticky summer heat at bay, but it's decorated in white. White, blank tapestries hanging on the walls, white flowers in every vase, white white white and then you realize that for the first time in your life, the manor is quiet. You are the eldest of nine children, all of you closely spaced in age, and the eerie silence makes you want to scream just so that you can break it.
White is the color of mourning. White is the color of death.
You have never cared much for decorum, and right now the Dark One himself can take such things for all you care. With your heart in your throat, you hike up your voluminous skirts to your knees and run to your parents' chambers, ignoring the stares you get from white-dressed servants as you rush by them. You don't care what they think of you.
Be steadfast.
You open the door to your parents' bedroom, and flinch back at the sickly-sweet smell that hits you like a wall. You know that smell, from the infirmary- no, from when your grandmother passed away; it's the smell of disease. Your parents are both in bed still, pale and sweaty and shivering. Off to the side stands a slim, elegant woman with the timeless face of an Aes Sedai, with a sad frown on her face. She is wearing her shawl, fringed in yellow. Your father's tired eyes light up when he sees you, though his beloved face is lined with sickness and deep sorrow. Your mother is past seeing anything at all; her vacant stare goes right through you.
"Lucia!" Father croaks and tries to sit up, to no avail. "Lucia, come here."
[OPTION SELECT]
[] Write-in
[X] Go to your parents, take their hands, and comfort them.
I think I'm starting to see how this plays out. Comforting parents, don't want to leave them. way back opens up and she doesn't want to go. Okay, fine, let's let it play out.
I think I'm starting to see how this plays out. Comforting parents, don't want to leave them. way back opens up and she doesn't want to go. Okay, fine, let's let it play out.
keenscythe
No longer NEET
- Location
- WA, USA
[X] Your Parents are beyond help, Grant them peace and bury them behind the Woodshed.
Seriously just letting them live would be Cruel, the Door can come mid burial.
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chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
[X] Go to your parents, take their hands, and comfort them.
Gadjo
Doka
Ehhh that's kinda jumping at the obvious solution and ignoring that she said "Then let her face what she fears" right before Lucia stepped in here. Anyway, if it was just "would you choose to leave home again" it's already changed more than it needed to by making her parents deathly ill, since that had no bearing on her leaving on the first place. It makes way more sense as her facing her fear of actually losing her parents, rather than simply not living with them anymore.
[X] Go to your parents, take their hands, and comfort them. Why didn't you know about this before? Was this truly so sudden?
[X] Ask the yellow Ajah if they'll be okay.
Also, vote could use a bit of spice, so I added some.
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Sure, possibly... whatever. I kind of just... I don't find this sort of thing as interesting in a quest where rather than revealing a character's inner life, we're voting on it. (Not that I like it that much in books.)
lavanderjasmine
Master of decoration
- Location
- R'lyeh
[X] Go to your parents, take their hands, and comfort them. Why didn't you know about this before? Was this truly so sudden?
[X] Ask the yellow Ajah if they'll be okay.
[X] Ask the yellow Ajah if they'll be okay.
Gadjo
Doka
? This is a character we the voters are deciding on. That is the explicit point. If she were just telling us everything about her and making more decisions for us, this would be a fanfic. Anyhow, I quite like this sort of "facing your fears" thing, and I enjoy developing backstory and personality through gameplay. It's sort of the point of a quest?
Choo Choo
THE GRIEF TRAIN HAS NO BRAKES
- Location
- Sweden -> California
- Pronouns
- She/her
I feel like I've explained why I've chosen to do it this way a few times. It's worked quite well so far, in my opinion, and so I am highly unlikely to change it. I appreciate that you vote regularly, I really do - but I also wouldn't want you to waste your time on a quest you seemingly don't enjoy.
No hard feelings at all, people like different things.If you do enjoy it, then that's great, I'm glad you do! Happy to have you! Just be aware that this particular aspect isn't likely to change all that much, since Lucia is the one thing in this quest that the players can control and I don't want to take that away from you.