TDM 1 ⬡ The Oval Portrait

[liburuzaina]

	Casting Call The Oval Portrait Edgar Allan Poe »» "Long — long I read — and devoutly, devotedly I gazed." Name: The Aristocrat Casting Call: Characters with a Birthday from September through December Physical Notes: Desperately wounded, to the point of being bedridden, but not losing consciousness. Personality Notes: Curious, and prone to becoming enraptured by the pursuit of learning about whatever has caught their curiosity. Mildly delirious due to injury. Compulsions: To learn about their surroundings, whether through study of the portraits in the chateau apartment, conversation with a companion, or ill-advised exploration. «« »» "We established ourselves in one of the smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments." Name: The Valet Casting Call: Characters with an Unknown Birthday Physical Notes: Older than The Aristocrat by ≥ 5 years. Personality Notes: Willing and able (by force or by cleverness) to break in to a home for the well-being of their employer. A caretaker by nature. Compulsions: To see that The Aristocrat is comfortable for the night and their wounds are tended to, and to get some rest themselves once their duty is complete. In the absence of The Aristocrat, The Valet is free to act as they please. «« »» "She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee." Name: The Maiden Casting Call: Characters with a birthday from May through August Physical Notes: Young, aged from 15-20. Personality Notes: All smiles, loving and cherishing of all things, hating only The Painter's art, for they deprive them of their lover. Compulsions: To live life to the fullest, to love, to be happy... But also to make their husband, The Painter happy, by being a good and willing subject for his portraiture, should he ask. ⬡ Will slowly waste away and die, should they sit and allow themselves to be painted. «« »» "And evil was the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded the painter." Name: The Painter Casting Call: Characters with a birthday from January through April Physical Notes: Older than the maiden by ≥ 10 years. Personality Notes: Passionate, studious, austere, wild, moody. More in love with his art than his wife. Compulsions: To paint. To paint, and paint, and paint some more. To ask their lovely wife to be the subject for their next piece, and to throw themselves into the completion of it. ⬡ Unaware they are doing harm with their painting, until it is complete. «« code @ efryndiel The Chateau ⬡ Common Cast Characters most likely to originate in The Chateau are The Aristocrat and The Valet ⬡ Literary Description "To all appearance it had been temporarily and very lately abandoned. We established ourselves in one of the smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments. It lay in a remote turret of the building. Its decorations were rich, yet tattered and antique. Its walls were hung with tapestry and bedecked with manifold and multiform armorial trophies, together with an unusually great number of very spirited modern paintings in frames of rich golden arabesque." ⬡ For Your Exploration Characters may attempt to explore the Chateau, but it will be shrouded in darkness, and every room they enter will bring them back to the apartment chosen by The Valet. What decorations may be seen are dark and victorian in design, and the room and halls may be lit by candlelight. The Maiden's portrait is on the wall, and will initially be cloaked in shadow for The Aristocrat to find. It appears remarkably lifelike, almost as though it is a window instead of a portrait. The other paintings on the walls will contain figures that are almost familiar to The Aristocrat and The Valet - as though they could be someone they know, but only if they squint. There is no electricity. Characters will not have access to any powers. The Artist's Tower ⬡ Common Cast Characters most likely to originate in The Artist's Tower are The Maiden and The Painter ⬡ Literary Description "But she was humble and obedient, and sat meekly for many weeks in the dark, high turret-chamber where the light dripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead. But he, the painter, took glory in his work, which went on from hour to hour, and from day to day." ⬡ For Your Exploration Should characters leave the Painter's studio, they will immediately be transported outside, to a sprawling field of wildflowers. There won't seem to be anything else around, but there will be a light breeze and the sound of the sea in the distance. Inside the studio, the air is stale and musty, smelling of oil paints and turpentine. It's dim, lit only by a skylight. There is a stool for the subject and an easel with canvas sitting in the light, but everything else - art materials, more canvases, both empty and with the beginnings of paintings, and props - are all pushed to the sides of the room and cloaked in shadow. Like The Chateau, there is no electricity, and characters will not have access to their powers. The Library ⬡ Welcome! Free from their roles, through either death, completion of the Story, or from not being pulled into the tale in the first place, characters will find themselves in the gardens outside of the Library itself. As always, it will look and feel like a temperate, autumn afternoon. As this setting is part of the Library itself, characters will have full access to all their powers. ⬡ Grand Opening Coming Soon! The front door will, unfortunately, be locked, and a sign will be taped on the doors, detailing how the Library will be opening soon, but in the meantime to please enjoy the grounds and the pizza party in the courtyard. ⬡ Pizza party? Pizza party! In the courtyard, there will be tables set up that will be absolutely covered in stacks of paper plates, 2-liter bottles of any soda one could dream of, and stacks and stacks of pizza boxes, containing any flavor combination that could be desired. Opening a random box will provide a random, but popular, flavor. Opening a box with an Intent and a Desire for something specific will provide exactly that. Enjoy! It won't run out. navigation • premise • reserves • faq

Comments

[royalboar]

[He almost scoffs, but decides against it: doing so hurts his middle, after all, and it’s best to not entertain more pain than necessary if they’re going to wander about the place. With the help of Felassan, Dimitri pushes himself to his feet. Keeping balance is a trial for the first few seconds, having to press his weight against the valet as the world tilts beneath him, but after a moment, it’s almost as though he can walk on his own without issue!

Sort of.

It’s a slow and somewhat wobbly attempt, but a determined one. Somehow they make it through the door of Dimitri’s room only to find the chateau, as expected, swathed in deep shadow all around. There’s enough curiosities to wander this way and that, at least, and nothing as insubstantial as obliterating darkness is going to discourage him from exploring.]

Here, look.

[The closet set of paintings are hung evenly-spaced away from each other, portraits done in a very painterly and delicate style, though their faces are shadowed until they draw closer.]

Have you seen these? In passing, I have felt the faces are familiar to me. Do you recognize them?

[sidenote]

[Felassan mercifully does not make comments the entire time it takes Dimitri to wobble to his feet; he definitely makes a face or two when he takes those first few unsteady steps, because Felassan is obviously correct and no one with that injury need be wandering the halls, but! Here they are.

He sticks close to Dimitri's side, at least, a touch overtly waiting for him to just drop. It's fine. For a moment he considers lying, writing off the oddness of the paintings as some injury-related delirium and ushering the man back to bed, but--

Well, paintings of people that look halfway familiar in a place he's sure he's never been before is a compelling mystery, alright. He lingers looking at one or two, idly curious.]

Almost. As if from a distant dream.

[A beat, then he looks sidelong at Dimitri again, lightly smirking.]

Or perhaps we are both incredibly tired and imagining things.

[royalboar]

[Felassan’s reply might be an airy thing, but Dimitri takes it to heart and considers it maybe a tad too seriously. And why not? It’s hard to say; the situation is altogether strange for reasons he cannot quite understand. Reasons that cannot breach the haze of delirium and impulsive curiosity that have muddled up his mind, for better or worse. Probably worse.]

You give my imagination far too much credit. My mind conjures up many things—

[Here, a hitch in his thoughts. What things? Unkind remembrances of the past, ghosts that constantly demand tributes of blood, or— No. He’s digressing, isn’t he?]

—but this is not one of them.

[An attempt to straighten with a wince. A haphazard gesture at their surroundings.]

Where is here?

[sidenote]

Some nobleman's house, [he says automatically, only glancing at this, ah, other rich boy (tm) wincing alongside him as an afterthought. Well, he has no compulsions to care for whoever owns this house, so he can be dismissive of other aristocrats, certainly...]

You were not concerned when you tasked me with finding a place to stay.

[Or when he, like, broke in, which definitely did happen. Somewhere, in some part of this house they will never see again, there's a window pane in a door he knocked out with his elbow to open the door. Don't worry about it.

After a moment Felassan sighs, weary of this exploration already.]

It will still be here in the morning. Go back to bed.

[royalboar]

I was not concerned then, and I am hardly concerned now— [Though recollection remains as fuzzy as ever. What was he doing before this place, can he even truly recall? Again, it feels so far away.] More like I am intrigued, and yet you continue to insist that I should return to bed. I am not dying.

[Well, not yet, anyway.]

I cannot tell if you worry too much, or if you’re simply unduly stubborn.

[Pot, meet kettle.]

[sidenote]

Ah, or a third option: I am short one employer if you do die in this mysterious house.

[He's never worried too much in his life, so it's certainly not that one. Idly he peers more closely at one of the portraits, reaching out to push the frame up by one of its corners, like perhaps there are some secrets hidden behind each of these. Whatever; it will be crooked, it's fine.]

Can you not contain yourself until the morning?

[royalboar]

No, I think not.

[—he says, in a way that denotes a stubbornness that even he is aware might sound needlessly childish when spoken from the lips of a grown man. Dimitri lets an exhale out through his teeth, in accordance with the pain throbbing across his middle and the slightest recession of his mule-headed nature.]

Five minutes more. Five minutes more of exploring a dark corner of this room, and then I will return to my bed so that I might spare you of the worry. [Not that he seems particularly, ah, worried.] Does that sound acceptable to you?