Mother, Tell Me What To Do- Event

[missrecalled_mods]

It began with flowers. Now, flowers were nothing new to Auradon, but these were clearly no ordinary flowers. For one thing, they were distinctly not native to the area, looking much more like they hailed from somewhere far more tropical, though even should anyone- Missrecalled or local- be familiar with such things, they wouldn't be able to identify what species they were or exactly where they might be from. For another, rather than growing over time, they'd all just simply appeared overnight. And they'd appeared everywhere. From outdoor spaces where one would usually find flowers, to all sorts of places indoors where one normally wouldn't find them. Draped in living garlands around the shoulders of suits of armor. Twining around the legs of tables and chairs. Literally sprouting right out of the woodwork or wallpaper in places. 

Avoiding them entirely would be difficult, though doable if one were particularly determined. Fortunately, aside from their mysterious appearance and their sudden ubiquitousness they seem to be harmless. They even smell nice, though no two people will be able to agree on exactly what the smell is like, just that it's pleasant.

However some of the flowers will randomly cause something odd to occur. Touching one, or breathing in too deeply from one of the random flowers will draw forth a memory for all nearby to see and hear. Only one memory will display at a time, and anyone in the area can see and hear it, but only those close enough to have caught the scent of that particular flower will get the full effect. They'll see the figures and setting as solid, and may experience subtle additional effects related to the memory, such as the feeling of a breeze or the smell of cooking food. Anyone else will see and hear everything fine, but will not experience any additional sensations and will see the scene as somewhat transparent. The figures aren't solid, they just seem like that to anyone who was close enough to smell the flower when it triggered.

The memory, oddly enough, will not be from the perspective of the one it belongs to; they and their companion or companions will be observing from a third party perspective, thus allowing a person to see their own face in the memories without the aid of a mirror. Nor can the memories be interacted with; those viewing them are observers only, and while they'll be able to hear the figures in the memory and each other speaking, no one in the memories will be able to hear or perceive them in any way. The memories vary in content and tone from person to person, for obvious reasons, but a common thread will soon be spotted: all the memories involve the person's mother or similar maternal figure. Generally they are more likely to be positive memories, if such memories exist. 

Once the memory fades that flower looses its ability and becomes just like any other flower in this event. However another flower nearby might have been activated...

Picking one of the flowers and taking it back to their rooms- which are one of the few places that remain entirely flower-free, for some reason- will result in the person having vivid dreams of their mothers or maternal figures. Again, while the content of those dreams will vary widely for obvious reasons, in Auradon, the tone will be generally positive. Perhaps bright and cheerful, perhaps nostalgic and somewhat melancholy, but the dreams will be generally good ones, and those who have them will wake feeling generally refreshed and like they slept well. The dreams are just that, dreams. Even those with no memories of their mothers can have these dreams - but in the drams they will have a mother, and the dream will center around that maternal figure one way or another. Again, these are dreams and our minds can create the sweetest fantasies when so inspired. These dreams will linger one day past the event for every day the flowers had been kept in the bedroom. Also, oddly, of the flowers people pick will show no signs of wilting or drying out, even days after being picked no matter where they're left.

Then, after a week, all the flowers- whether picked or left alone - vanish overnight, just as suddenly as they appeared. A strange phenomenon, to be sure, but once it's over, other concerns will likely take precedence once again. After all, something like that couldn't possibly happen again, right? 

Comments

[nadenagi]

"Wh...what?!" he asked, startled. "N... no... Oh... you wanted to know about mom...?"

[queen_butterfly]

"Fair enough."

She looked to the flowers again, brushing a hand over them, looking for one that would prompt something. It didn't take long.

One scene was short, simply a pair of elves in a garden, drinking a bit themselves, having lunch while they kept the fairies' bowl of wine full for them -- and even sharing their own food with the little insects, clearly not at all minding losing those tiny bits of it to them, giggling and asking them if they liked what they'd found. The little black-with-purple one seemed intent on trying to lift a large morsel of bread, soaked in a sauce of some kind, only to be told that she'd likely have better luck if she took less at once, or had another of the fairies help her. ....Whatever was going on here, it was clear that the elves absolutely did not regard these insects as pests of any sort.

Another brief scene, another elf was making food, kneading some bits, dried fruits or nuts or something, into a brown dough while apparent younger siblings played in the house behind her, and a few of the fairies peeked in through the window above her work area. They deposited something on the cloth tied over the mouth of a jar there, and she paused, leaning in to see what it was, only to give a smile that was... part wince? An attempt not to laugh? It was hard to tell. "Oh... I appreciate the gifts, but my kind doesn't eat those bugs. You do." One of the little fairies hopped back to the cloth to push them toward her again, insisting on offering them, and she shook her head. "No, no... give those to your own children." They pointed to a bowl sitting a few inches away, and faintly, something seemed to appear in it, a dark mass in the bottom that glittered, only an illusion that lasted just long enough to give the elf a hint before disappearing, the other fairies seeming more excited for it. "Oh...! Oh, poppets, you don't need to trade for that!" She quickly cleaned her hands off and grabbed a bottle from the shelf, one with more of that black wine in it, and tossing some twigs of something into the bowl, began pouring it for them....

In another scene, past-Mallia was indoors at a workbench. Evident from what else was in the room was that whoever worked here was a carver, a crafter. Mallia was leaning on the workbench herself, inspecting the wooden thing closely as she rubbed what looked like it might've been a sort of file on it, smoothing part of it down. The elf pictured this time, a lady that might've been a bit on the older side, with white hair and fine lines from a long history of smiling, was working on its other end. It was an arm, a doll arm the size of a child's, thin and delicate-looking, perfectly carved to hide the joints better than most modern dolls' were.

"...but I don't feel any life in it."

"So you doubt it'll work as our poppet's arm?"

Past-Mallia paused, frowning as she considered. "Should we pour wine on it?"

Present-Mallia was taking a second to look around the workshop, her eye caught by movement on top of a shelf, and she smiled, seeing what looked like a small bird sitting up high there, watching them contentedly.

The older lady laughed at that. "We make sure that the wine has that life-magic in it for you and the others, dear. But wine isn't the only way to move that energy quickly. I'm sure you can tell that it's everywhere, can't you?"

"It's not, though. Not much. It's in people and animals. And in the wine." A little pause. "Is the wine alive?"

She laughed again, hardly mocking, simply amused by the innocent confusion. "No, poppet. Wine isn't alive. But it has that magic because the ents put it into the berries that we make it from. Because they want you and everyone to have it."

Mallia, there in the present, stepped around to get a better look at the older lady.

Her past self frowned a little, thinking. "But we won't put wine on the new arm?"

"There's no need," The lady said, finishing what she was doing. She set the shoulder end back down. "His own spirit's plenty enough. It's a strong one." She turned, peeking around. "Chell?"

Something moved from a chair not far away, a child-sized figure waking up at their name being called, and Chell rubbed his eyes, sitting up. Once he focused on the two at the desk, he seemed to figure out what was going on, and he slid down off the chair to step over to them.

He wasn't another elf, he was a wooden doll. His arm was broken at the bicep, the bare wood splintered still; the new arm was its replacement. Past-Mallia crouched and put her arms out, and the little figure stepped up to be lifted to the table, where the lady set to work again. "Thank you," he said quietly, smiling. It was anyone's guess how a wooden-looking doll face was pliable enough to be so easily expressive, but his definitely was.

"Of course, of course." The lady leaned over to give him a quick little kiss on his head while she worked at detaching the old arm. It didn't take her long, and attaching the new one took her even less time. Even before she'd finished, Chell was bringing his new hand up to try opening and closing it, turning it over in front of him, smiling at how it matched its pair, moving it as naturally as any born person might've. "There."

Past-Mallia, curious, picked up the broken bit of arm, turning it over. "There's no life in it at all now...."

"Of course there isn't. Chell's spirit is staying in his body. And that's not part of it any longer." She picked up the little figure when he reached for her, and helped the wooden child down, taking a quick kiss on her cheek before she could stand back up, and grinned. "I'm sure you'll try to be careful with that one, poppet?"

"Uh huh. Mom said she'd fix the door for me so it wouldn't happen again."

"Oh, good, good!" She said something else, the warm look on her face making it plain that she'd regarded the made child as fondly as any other, and perhaps he was her own, though he'd referred to someone else as his parent... but the scene faded again, leaving the present Mallia standing there.

She glanced to Mal, hesitant. She had a faint smile, but something else was there as well, debating on saying something. Maybe the younger lady had questions, after that bit? She wasn't sure. But if Mal didn't object or interrupt, she'd step to another bed of the flowers.

And if Mal had been paying close enough attention to the scene, she might have picked up on a few details of its translation: that the elves' word for life, and spirit, and magic... were, in this context, either the same word, or related.

[queen_butterfly]

"About whoever you'd like to tell me about. I could tell you about someone I've been reminded of too, if you'd like....?"

[mal_contented]

"Geppetto? Seriously?" She shook her head. "Id I didn't know better I'd swear you were making half of these up just to throw me off."

[nadenagi]

"If... if you want. I'm not as good at being a friend as my sister... but I am good at listening..."

[queen_butterfly]

"'Gepetto'?" That right there, that's confusion. Is that a name of a person? A sort of swear? Something that simply doesn't translate...?

[queen_butterfly]

"I don't think I'd believe you're not. You're plenty capable of that, poppet." Just because she didn't know him very well personally didn't mean that she had doubts there; this was a kid, and children, well... they were quite often capable of more than they expected.

"Would you want to tell me about someone first, or ought I tell you first?"

[mal_contented]

"Pin's grandfather. Made a puppet because he wanted a son. Blah blah blah. Blur fairy gave him a brain and junk, blah blah moral compass maxim, he embraces goodness, becomes a real boy grows up, has a kid named Pin..."

She rolled her eyes. Everyone knew that story.

[nadenagi]

He pushed some hair back, flushing a little. "You can..."

[queen_butterfly]

Judging by her blank look, everyone except her knew it. "What do you mean, 'becomes a real boy'...? I'm afraid I didn't catch most of that." Because Mal hadn't said most of it, brushing over it all like she had.

[queen_butterfly]

She nodded a little. "One of my oldest friends," she said. "He seems to know me better, sometimes, than I know myself. Always knows just what to say, to help when I've been upset. We could always tell each other anything. And he would always be there to help me, and I, him. He's one of those people one could spend the day with, not say a single word, and still feel like you've had a wonderful conversation.

"Some time ago, I was..." How to put it? Well, she didn't want to lie.... "I was hurt. And it was such that I couldn't do something I had intended to do. I couldn't give someone a present I'd planned. And he came to visit... he wasn't even able to come speak with me first, and I know he was very upset about what'd happened... but he remembered so well what I'd wanted to give them, and he gave it for me." She smiled faintly. "I think things quite possibly turned out even better for those people, than if I'd been the one to give it myself.

"I had to be away for a long while after that... but he was one of the first people I met with again after. He helped me fix my home... rebuild my castle. He helped me clear the ash and debris, and get my garden started. A long time ago, I'd given him a few bits of the roses from my garden... and he'd cared for them, and brought them back to me for my new garden."

She reached up to her hair -- surely this one was of her magic's making, given that she'd planted the real ones some time ago -- and she pulled down a little blossom, a darker, intense sort of deep purple, matching the hems of her gown, and offered it over to the child, intending to simply gift it away. "I really don't know where I'd be now, if it weren't for him. I owe him so much...."

[mal_contented]

"You know. He proved he was good and honest and true so sh turned him from wood into a real boy." It didn't disgust her as much as it used to, but it was still more than a bit much for her.

[nadenagi]

He nodded, listening intently. "He sounds wonderful," he said quietly.

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Yeah? Maybe we could spar sometime then," he said. "I used to spar with my friend Kairi back home when we were training and then later on the Voidtrecker when she turned up. You'd never know it to look at her, but she hits like a truck; I was really surprised at first."

[mal_contented]

"Never underestimate the ones that look harmless," she said with a snort.

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Oh believe me, I didn't," he said. "I just figured her thing would be agility or having a lot of cool tricks up her sleeve, not raw punching power, ya know?"

"Anyway we got a bit sidetracked, but suffice to say I'll try not to get on your case about the stuff I mentioned. Just promise I'm not gonna find you passed out at a worktable with a bunsen burner still running or something. That actually happened, by the way; it's what made me start hiding Vexen's equipment to force him to take a break from the lab."

[mal_contented]

"That would be Carlos, not me. Or E. I'm more the magic and art one than the science one. You know, the actual cool stuff."

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Clearly this world never had a version of Mythbusters if you don't think science can be cool," he said. "Though not gonna lie, I mostly watched it for the explosions as a kid."

"And magical exhaustion is a thing too, so just don't overdo it, OK? Cause if you get as bad as Vexen was, you're small and light enough that I can pull an Aeleus and take a more direct approach than hiding the stuff you need to keep working."

[mal_contented]

"I am sure I don't want to know." She considered. "About either remark."

[hotheadwarmheart]

"OK, clearly I need to introduce Mythbusters to Auradon somehow, cause you guys are missing out," he said. "As for Aeleus, remember when I told you he was a big guy? Well by big, I mean he's 6' 8" and every inch of it muscle. Guy's basically a human mountain. If he wanted someone to go somewhere- like say, to bed- and they were being super stubborn about it, he could just pick them up and take them there. Which he apparently did to Vexen on more than one occasion back when Vexen was going by Even."

[mal_contented]

"Why would anyone want to destroy history?" She was so lost, but as for the rest... her eyes narrowed. "Try that and I'll breathe on you. As a dragon."

[hotheadwarmheart]

Lea chuckled. "Nah, it's not like that," he said. "They test things like urban legends, popular beliefs, movie stunts, and old sayings to see if they actually hold up in real life or not. Then depending on the results, they declare them either confirmed, plausible, or busted."

"And as for the dragon breath, you could try, but I'm fireproof. So you'd just end up scorching whatever was around me and probably annoying Ben."

[mal_contented]

"I don't think that would work here. And fine, I'd bite you. Betting you're not toothproof."

[hotheadwarmheart]

"Probably not," he agreed. "Though I am pretty good at dodging."

"Why don't you think it'd work though?"

[mal_contented]

"Because most of that stuff is real life here," she pointed out. "And also, you can't exactly dodge the person you're trying to carry. Not well, anyway."