#councilevent

     The Hermit shuffled her cards at one corner of the table, content to keep to herself while she ate, at first. A shadow briefly crossed the room, bringing with it a chill, and though it was gone as quickly as it had come she was unsettled. She stood as if to go to Death or Strength or another friendly face who wouldn’t mind the intrusion. Instead her body went rigid. Cards flipped and tumbled to the floor around her. Her eyes had glazed over in their usual way. How her lips quivered and her forehead wrinkled were… less than usual. Her voice cut clear through the room.

     “Stop.”

     She had begun muttering then, a jumble of half-spoken words and hisses that did not sound like any human tongue, until a ragged sob broke from her lips. She raised shaking hands to claw at her scalp. The glassy-eyed stare of a prophet in the throes of a vision had gone wide with abject fear at some horror no one else in the room could see. This was not a vision like those she’d had before. Those were quiet and still. Not like this. Few had witnessed those moments, but the difference was felt in the room nonetheless. Most strange, and perhaps most shocking, of all was the way her fevered words had risen to a wail. “None of us are safe,” she said, shaking her head back and forth wildly. “We have sown our own destruction. None of us are safe from each other.” Anyone who stepped forward to her made her flinch away, her unseeing gaze huge with fright. “No one can be trusted. Salus iacet in, in, in exitium. Stop. Stop! St-”

     Like a bulb burning out, she dropped, her head bouncing off the corner of the dining table as she fell. At exactly the same moment, though this was not known to most of the Council at the time, chaos reigned in the rest of the house. A fire winked into existence in a corner of the Training Room. Caught by Judgement, it didn’t spread far, but soot marked near the ceiling nonetheless, and no obvious source was found. Every piece of glassware in the Rec Room shattered at precisely the same moment, showering its old wooden floor - and, incidentally, The Emperor and The Empress - with shards and liquors. Water, gray and muddied, seeped into the Library’s floor as if welling from the ground itself. It reached no more than a few inches high, but enough to reach a few misplaced books and stir up a reaction from The High Priestess. None of these events have red-handed culprits, and yet… These days it takes so little provocation for the Council to point fingers. Almost as little as it takes to distract them from the gradual mutilation of the ley line right beneath their feet.

      Quickly The Hermit was moved and not long after the rest of the dining room cleared, the chill in the air now apparent to everyone who had lingered. In the shadows lurked two figures hidden from onlookers, one with dirt crushed into her threadbare sweater looking up at the other. Said other, with leathery skin pulled taut around its skull, stared into the now-empty room through pure white, too-round eyes rimmed in sooty gray. It nodded, perhaps satisfied by what it had witnessed, and the reflection at its side slid away into the gloom.

                 now.

     Word of the vision and various small disasters spread fast, as it tends to do, particularly when the news is so damning - can anyone in the house be trusted? Who might start a fire for no apparent reason? Who would destroy books or windows, and why? 

      What is apparently foretold by the vision is alarming, but the other problems don’t appear as otherworldly as they could. In fact, it feels as if someone (a Councilor, perhaps?) is working to sow unease. Provoked to action, The Emperor sets her sights on Nashville, intent to determine The Devil’s motivations. Can she be relied upon, or will she rise to dark expectations? Convince her to return, to stay, or simply keep out of the way - The Emperor isn’t sure yet which she prefers.

     In much the same fashion, distrust spurs The Chariot to storm out of her room and into the world, and unfortunately for him, The Fool gets caught in her crosshairs. Just a few doors down from them, Temperance and The Star reason their way through the moments events, wondering if they aren’t all, somehow, related.

     The Hermit is not unconscious for long, though that does not deter Death from taking her to the infirmary, where he and The Hierophant brace for disorientation and panic. The Magician slides away with Justice to discuss the implications of what was said, while The Hanged Man and The Wheel of Fortune take it upon themselves to lighten the mood all around with pranks and general mischief.

     The crisis in the Library is enough to draw The Tower to The High Priestess, and though he is well outside his wheelhouse, he tries his best to help. Judgement takes news of the fire to The Sun, as well as his suspicions of the flare’s mysterious origin.

      The Lovers joins The Empress in the Rec Room, not because she particularly wants to clean, but because The Empress is one of few people she isn’t so jittery around these days. Or maybe it’s lingering guilt that drives her. Either way.

      The air, the water, the earth… Something is different at The Lair, something that The Moon thinks she may be imagining until Strength shares her own feelings on the matter. Ley lines may be out of Strength’s depth, but two heads are usually better than one, so long as the other doesn’t look remarkably like yours.

      Two voices boom out over each wing of the mansion at much the same time. In the west that voice resounds as if it is ten in one, deep and otherworldly and somehow heard through the bones. “Councilors, come to me. Come to me in the Library.” This is not a voice they can refuse. The voice heard on the other end of the house crackles to life as if over a loudspeaker which does not exist in The Lair. It’s laced with subtle humor and quite human, though still intriguing. “Good afternoon Council folks. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, but it is rather important that you congregate in the Council Chambers in a few minutes. Your haste is appreciated.”

      What is there to do but follow the voices and see what they have to say? 

      Several spaces around the grand circular table are filled in just a few minutes time, though each person in the room sees no one else, believing they are alone. The double doors burst open and a lean, towering figure strides through. The face that looks around at them is unfamiliar, angular, and… off. Lit with a debonair smile and sharp eyes, but somehow not quite right. He sees them all but addresses them as if they are alone with him, his arms held wide in greeting: “My child, it’s been so long. Not that you recall. That’s a shame.” He sits in Feiyan’s chair, leaning back and crossing his too-long legs, gentle laughter on his face. “I am Leviath, but Levi works just fine. What is it that we’re supposed to say? Do not be afeard? I might have some catching up to do around here. But, that’s no matter. I’ve asked you here because you’ve expressed an interest in learning the full extent of your power. Long ago, my kind appointed you to help lead your people to a better world.” His sigh is convincing, if a little overdone, in its regret. “We should have done better at that, instead of punishing you for following your own path.”

      When he next speaks, it is not with his voice. Each Councilor hears something different whispered in their ear. Do this for me, and I will reward you with your wildest dreams.

      In the library the scene is different; the small group which gathers is aware they are not alone, that they have each other through whatever is about to occur. Perhaps this is a kindness, but it doesn’t last long. A being appears before them in a flash of light. Her eyes are too large in her tight face, bright white as if lit from within her skull. Silvery ribbons of gossamer trail all around her, obscuring a gaunt form beneath them, moving idly as if caught in several tiny winds around her. Nothing else about her moves. She is not standing but hovering. Her eyes do not blink. When she speaks it is without moving her lipless mouth. “Humans… It has been a long time since we were last here to watch over you. I recall who you were many cycles ago, when you would have remembered us. You called us Ancients. It was one of few things you intuited correctly.” Her head turns, assessing each Councilor one by one, lingering on Strength and The High Priestess. “You have let fear keep you from true control over the gifts we gave you long ago. That is… a shame. Power such as yours belongs in the hands of those who know what to do with it.”

      Another glance around the room and the leathery skin of her neck seems to tighten. “One of you has run away entirely.” She raises a hand and sweeps it in front of her chest almost idly, as if it means nothing to her. Nothing happens in the library. In Nashville, lightning cuts through a clear blue sky and strikes the ground so hard it crumbles. Buildings quiver. Fires erupt. A mile-wide radius around anywhere The Devil sets foot is filled with the shrieking of people begging her to leave. “She will return,” the Ancient tells the library, as if unaware they do not see what she does. 

      “When you are all present, you have a decision to make. Kneel to me and retain your magic with my guidance, or succumb to your fear and perish.”

      now.

      Those in the library leave in a daze. Faced with such an ultimatum, what can any of them do but worry? 

      Death and Strength, at least, have other plans. The two of them head the same direction looking for somewhere to think, and end up discussing their misgivings about what they just witnessed. Neither is ready to cower, though this appearance does not bode well for anyone on the Council.

      More and more curious by the minute, The High Priestess seeks out Judgement, informing him of the events in the library. He in turn tells her of his apparent one-on-one with Levi, and the two set out to gather the facts as best they can. He has his own agenda, however; the task whispered to him is clear. Convince The Tower to be your loyal deputy, and I shall give you the power to answer any question you have ever had.

      The Tower considers his own task: The Chariot is a source of great strength, and also a liability. Make sure she is unwavering as your ally even if you assume control, and I shall ensure you finally take your rightful place on this Council. Without your guidance, how will you ever find The World?

      By comparison, The Chariot’s task seems simple. Use the new magic you were given. Prove that on your own you can put it to good use. Then I shall give you not just a book, but a treasure trove of power. Just as she is about to get started, she runs into The Lovers, still confused and frightened by the spectacle in the library.

      The Fool seeks out The Devil, who does not want to see or hear from any of them. The two discuss the possibility of leaving it all behind - if such a thing is at all possible now. Unbeknownst to them, The Empress is looking for them. Her task is two-fold. Impress upon them how vital it is that they stay and lend their support to you, and I will ensure that you are able to give them the happiness they deserve from your throne. On her way to them she comes across The Hierophant, who looks as if she could use a friendly face after the Ancient’s appearance.

      The Star is visited in his room by Levi, who saunters in and smiles that inscrutable smile. “You have too many questions for me to answer at once, so let me tell you this for now, before we are interrupted. The others will seek out your guidance. Let them know, if you believe in The Ancients of old and the power we gave you, that I want only good for you all.” He disappears without a trace the moment the door opens to reveal The Moon and The Hermit, each coming from a different direction, each clearly still rattled from what they have seen.

     I landed in Norway early this morning, after bartering a ride from a fishmonger. The crew was polite as one would expect, but it hardly made up for the smell. The locals seem used to it; I received no odd glances or upturned noses, but I also didn’t stay in town for long. The forest felt much more inviting than their taverns. Loneliness is my curse. An eternity of it. Perhaps the others were lucky.

     After I settled in a clearing and built my fire, I heard a rustle in the trees. A clowder of long-haired cats emerged. They had stone cold eyes; hard-looking. Feral. Perhaps they smelled the fish I’d made a bed of on my voyage against the flames. They studied me, and I didn’t falter. Once, I’d have been able to speak with them, but those days have passed. One broke the line, overcoming its hesitation. It continued to hold my gaze as it made its way over, slowly and with a predatory gait. When it was close enough, I offered it some salted meat. It didn’t trust me, but hunger won out. No sooner had it plucked the meat from my fingers did it disappear back into the depths of the trees. The other followed with it.

                                                               I was alone again.

     But an interesting idea lingered with me long past the sun setting behind the leafless branches. The Ancients left me my creation powers. Why don’t I… create? Why hadn’t I thought of it before? My companion didn’t have to be human. Witches had familiars once, right? That’s all I am now, isn’t it? 

     It took a lot out of me, bringing him into being. But he’s beautiful. A spitting image of my mystery friend that had visited in the afternoon. He also enjoyed the salted meat, and the warmth the fire had to offer. He told me his name was Balfour. Who was I to argue?

                               Perhaps I won’t be alone anymore.

                     before.

     Two weeks have passed since the initial discovery of Feiyan’s absence, as well as the flicker in magical gifts. Not to mention the grab for power. Emotions have calmed over the short time, but the weight of it all has hardly dissipated. No one has really moved on, but some seem more intent on finding answers than others.

     Death has taken to his dog form, using its keen sense of smell to search The Lair. He goes floor by floor, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches the suites. Something incredibly old and remarkably feline fills the air, emanating from beyond Feiyan’s door. Knowing Billy rarely leaves the library, Death barges in, coming upon a feral-looking grey cat with long hair and bright teal eyes. They stare intently, and Death starts barking.

     The Tower and The Empress both run in, hopes high, and Justice follows not long after. “Oh, great,” Justice mutters sarcastically, a sentiment The Tower shares.

     “What have you morons done with her?” the cat replies in a gravelly voice that shocks only Death. The Empress calms the room, but not before giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ears and a small smile.

     “Welcome home, Balfour,” she whispers. A voice rings from the doorway as Death shifts back to his human form. The Fool, having heard the commotion, appears to ask what the hell is going on. Justice suggests they convene The Council.

     Balfour sits in the middle of the Council table, everyone else in their seats, listening as intently as one can to a talking cat. He explains what he is: a creation of Feiyan’s. Who he is: her oldest living friend. How he is: pissed at the idiocy of the group in front of him. The Empress speaks up, interrupting what she knows could be a barrage of insults from the irascible cat she grew up with.

     She explains that Balfour lived with them when she was young, The Tower quickly chiming in that he is far from a friendly house cat. The Empress continues: he often came and went just as Feiyan did, but one day he left and did not return. That was nearly seventeen years ago. Balfour interrupts her then, telling the group he has his own thoughts and agenda just like the rest of them, and had some things he had to figure out.

     “About two weeks ago, I knew something was wrong. We’re connected, Feiyan and I. I’m a piece of her soul, and I could feel her in pain. So I ask once more: what did you imbeciles do? Where is she?”

    That hushes the room, but only for a moment. Questions begin flying. Feiyan is hurt? She’s alive? Where is she? How do we get her back? Balfour hisses to silence them, his frustration - and concern - is clear. He tells them the only reason he has returned is to find out where she is and why the scent of danger lingers in the air around them, and until a clue surfaces, he has no information for them beyond this.

     “And what have you all been doing in her absence?” he sneers, piercing gaze leveled around the table at all of them. No one answers immediately, forcing The Empress to speak up and explain their dispute over decision-making power.

     With that he leaps off the table, making no effort to hide his irritation at the Councilors. “You are supposed to be the best of the best,” he tells them, his tone an uncanny reminder of the way Feiyan spoke, “yet you squabble like children as the world decays around you. Either put yourself to good use, or do not bother me.”

     Tail held high, he’s out the door, ending the meeting without another word. The Councilors look at each other for a moment longer before breaking away. Some go looking for Balfour, desiring to aid him; some seek out friends for comfort, or to laugh off the absurdity of the whole situation.

                                            They have no idea how outrageous the day is yet to be.

                    now.

     Hours later the Councilors begin to notice their magic behaving strangely, though most write it off as their nerves getting the better of them. 

                                                                                 Until they can’t.

      Death finds The Fool lost in his fears over the Council’s permanence; attempting to cheer him up, Death takes the form of a kitten, barking insults and orders just as Balfour had. Quickly, though, he realizes the problem on his hands. He can’t change back - or at least, not to the form he is trying to take. The Fool might have laughed at him, but his own control over his powers wavers, sending him to new places at random as if he was a child once again.

      Wheel of Fortune has never had this many unlucky things happen to him in a row before, which naturally leads him on an ill-advised adventure to test his newfound bad luck. Things are supposed to go his way always, so what could possibly be wrong? On his little adventure he gets caught in the crosshairs of The Chariot’s malfunctioning magic, and suddenly his feet leave the ground. Frustrated by her loss of control, The Chariot is already doing everything she can to regain it, but Wheel of Fortune’s attitude does nothing to improve her concentration.

     The Devil is not trying to summon anything, yet things from fleeting thoughts keep appearing around her. It isn’t that big an issue - the clean-up may not be fun, but she can only do so much to help with that - until her rogue powers put The Tower right in her path. Having fought hard over the years to master his gift, he hasn’t accidentally set anything on fire… yet. Mostly. But the harder the Councilors fight their loss of control, the worse it gets.

     Judgement, who had taken to the astral plane to get away from the pandemonium of magical talking animals, cannot seem to find his way back. The Magician finds him in a trance and moves to shake him awake, but the contact slams her spirit into the astral plane with his, leaving them caught between worlds with seemingly no escape, and their bodies abandoned and empty laying in The Lair.

      A storm closes in on The Lair, so The Star goes out to take control and let it pass, but his powers only seem to make it worse, whipping the rain into a thundering frenzy. Strength catches a glimpse of his struggle through a window and runs out to help. Big mistake. Combined, the two of them valiantly fight against the storm they are feeding - and begin to worry they run the risk of the Potomac rising and flooding their home.

     The High Priestess is not just drowning in others’ emotions - no, his predicament only gets worse. Happening upon The Emperor in the library, the two quickly discover that neither of their powers are working properly. The Emperor bursts into uncharacteristic tears, her frustration at the day’s events amplified by The High Priestess’ out of control powers. She tries to will him to turn it off, but her persuasion doesn’t work quite as planned, and her magically-induced mood swings do not get any better.

     At first, The Hanged Man doesn’t notice a huge difference in his powers. He’s still moving faster than everyone else, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Until he struggles to control his own speed, that is. One minute he’s darting around, the next it’s as if he stepped in quicksand. He seeks out the nearest person he can find for help, but The Hermit is having troubles of her own. Her visions overlap with her present, and she’s struggling to wade through what is real and what isn’t, but she hears The Hanged Man’s voice and knows she has to help, if she can.

      The Moon finds herself ejected from her sleep much too early, and in her annoyance she seeks out The Hierophant in the infirmary for something, anything, that could explain her problem and make it go away. A new issue quickly arises: The Hierophant cannot seem to keep her eyes open very long around The Moon, and every time she dozes off, her dreams start up loud and chaotic, drowning out both their worries for the moment.

    Justice and Temperance are arguing when they leave the meeting, the former not trusting Balfour at his word due to past history, while the latter attempts to point out they’re being stubborn. The Sun follows close behind attempting to mediate but failing miserably. What actually works is the three stumbling upon an unconscious and seemingly unwakeable Judgement and The Magician. Worried, the three take the bodies to The Hierophant, hoping she can wake them, but as she herself struggles to stay awake, she discovers her healing powers are not responding.

     The Empress had gone to her garden just after the meeting for peace and comfort, and for a while she was left unbothered. Then, her plants begin to grow. And grow. And grow. Utterly out of control, she tries to stop them, but her powers do not respond as they should. The Lovers, upon seeing the commotion, runs to help, but she actually makes matters worse. She can’t control her mimicry, let alone the chlorokinesis, so between the two of them, they become trapped in a maze of greenery.

     Mayhem reigns well into the next day, until a subtle shift in the air restores everyone’s control. The storm ceases, objects stop floating, and The Lair is (mostly) untouched by flame. No one is any closer to discovering what caused the malfunction, but Balfour reappears to confirm one thing: this cannot have been a good sign for the future.

      The evening of July the 4th, around 9:13pm was when the final Councilor (if you could consider him that) took his seat at the table’s center, curled into a fluffy ball of annoyance from being awoken. Fireworks boomed in the distance, a reminder to them that a holiday celebration - and the rest of the unsuspecting world they were intended to protect - were just across the river.

      Justice stood to speak, but it was Temperance who voiced their concern first. “They are more than just a random happenstance,” they urged in a flattened tone, “if it happened to all of us.” A murmur of agreement rose around the table, intermingling with concerned and frustrated looks. Questions were tossed about like a ball in the air. Are they us from another timeline? From a previous life? An embodiment of magic itself? Are they trying to turn us against each other? Is this what made us betray The Ancients in the first place? The more outlandish the suggestion, the more the meeting fell apart.

      “Maybe Feiyan is just testing us,” The Star’s voice resonated over the rest, the mention of the missing grandmaster silencing the lot. At this, Balfour’s head perked up out of its home between his paws, his eyes narrowing at the suggestion. A loud crack and a bright red flash interrupted the cat’s reply, all looking to the window to see the firework rocket that had caused it. An eerie hiss from Balfour drew their attention back almost immediately.

      A figure stood in the door for a breath before hurrying into the room. She went straight for the bookshelves that lined the curving walls, ignoring the gaping group sitting motionless around the table. The World’s hair was unkempt, her clothes rumpled, her eyes glossy and darting. She muttered quietly under breath as she moved. Only those closest to her could make out a few frantic words: “It’s the ley lines again- Useless... Broken magic- Worst- Alone... But what has escaped?” 

      Transfixed on the woman, no one immediately noticed The Empress slip from her seat to approach the ever-moving The World. “It’s not her,” Balfour growled, almost in sync with The Empress’ hand flickering right through The World’s arm, causing her to shimmer and ripple before re-solidifying. She turned then, looking first at Balfour, and then casting a lingering look at each of her twenty-one Councilors. “You’re failing,” she said firmly. A forlorn look crossed her face before she vanished in time with another boom from outside.

                  before.

     The Empress first noticed her several-day absence and roped The Tower into quietly looking for her when her concerns became too much to bear. The pair alerted Judgement when it became apparent they would not find her on their own. Though he searched for hours, Judgement found no sign of her on the astral plane. They called The Devil in for assistance, but every attempt to summon her produced much the same effect. Their last resort did little than fill Feiyan’s voicemail inbox to capacity. Even The Hanged Man’s lightning-fast search of The Lair and its grounds turned up few clues. 

     There was no mistaking it: it was time to convene the full Council.

     The Fool and The Devil made quick work of bringing everyone together in the Council Chambers, where The World’s chair sat empty for the first time in centuries. Nervous chatter filled the room, dying down only when Justice called the meeting to order. Questions began to fly across the table. Where could she be? How do we look for her next? What if there’s more to this than we know? Wheel of Fortune immediately jokes, trying to ease worried faces with a dash of humor. The Sun, picking up on the tactic, joined in. Soon, the meeting descended into incoherent chaos.

     One dissenting voice rose above the rest; Justice brought a different issue to attention, their voice booming across the room. Finding her and figuring out what was happening was important, yes, but they would never get anywhere without someone making decisions just as their missing Grandmaster should have been. How could they decide on a plan to find her otherwise? The Council dissolved into debate, dissonance reigning over the meeting. For some, it felt like an attempt to replace The World—for others, it was the only logical first step forward. 

     Something sparked within The Magician and The Emperor. Unbeknownst to them, they shared the same thought: who should be in charge? Who gets that power? Shouldn’t I get a say in what happens? The Magician was the only one of the pair who spoke the thought aloud. She held her chin high as her fellow Councilors bellowed their disapproval. Tensions rose, though a few Councilors had become preoccupied with something else.

     For the first time in years, The High Priestess was not bombarded by the tempest of emotion in the room. The Hermit found herself abruptly ejected from the half-vision distracting her from the meeting. The Star lost touch with the light rainstorm over The Lair. The Lovers felt their stomach drop, their connection to The Chariot’s power shorting out in an instant. They looked to Temperance, but she too was at a loss—the onslaught of other powers against her consciousness had ceased abruptly, and not at all by her intention.

     Startled, they vied for attention from their peers, but the argument developing among the others had escalated. The Magician fought with Judgement across the table, ignoring interjections from The Emperor and The Chariot. Spurred on by rising tempers, The Tower slammed his hands down on the table, fire in his eyes as he prepared to claim his birthright. Strength, ready to play peacemaker, jumped into the fray with Death and The Moon not far behind her, only to face the rude discovery of what the others had been trying to say: 

                       magic was gone.

     The ensuing panic only lasted a few minutes before powers around the table sparked back up like nothing strange had occurred. Worry lingered—this had never happened before. At least, not to their knowledge. If only The World was around to reassure them things would be fine… The unprecedented scare broke up the meeting as The Magician set off to check on her safeguards for The Lair, The High Priestess took to the library for clues, and Temperance took to the tech lab to find out what else they could learn. Those concerned with leadership reluctantly agreed that, for now, learning what they could about the outage took precedence.

                                      now.

     With The World missing emotions were already high, but now with the hiccup in magical connection, everyone is looking for something to do. Looking for answers. Looking for hope. Looking, even, not to be alone. Not to be scared or worried or confused.

     Temperance retreats to her tech lab ready to dive into into the peace, quiet, and comfort of internet research and Council records.  She does not notice Strength following behind, until she is settled. The latter insists on staying to help. They’re in this together after all.

     The Magician left in a dramatic turn of annoyance, masking a buried fear of the state of her powers. Taking to the grounds to examine her illusions and wards, she does not notice The Empress also went outside to check in on the gardens, worried her temporary lost connection affected her sweet plants. Alone in the serenity of the greenery, they discuss the implications of the what happened.

     Judgement was already perturbed by the mere premise of the meeting, so when magic faded, his frustrations skyrocketed. Needing all things to be supported by facts or evidence, he settles into the second floor lounge with a laptop and some journals. The Star, who had simply been wandering after the meeting, joins him out of desire to help find some answers but not knowing where to start.

     Death is out of the meeting chamber and into the bar before most people have even registered the weight of what occurred. It is, after all, much quieter in there. Plus it’s fully stocked. His solace doesn’t last long, however, when The Sun arrives talking up a storm to hide his worry.

     The Hierophant heads to her infirmary, since what she knows best is a comfort when she cannot have all the answers. She looks for a task to keep her busy, but doesn’t have to wait long. The Hanged Man appears looking for someone to pester  which is his own way of hiding his worry. Instantly she has a test subject. Intense speeds must have a strange effect on the human body, right? What will happen if his powers go away for too long, or for good?

     The Emperor and The Devil depart the meeting side by side. They both have their own reason to be frustrated at the power play Justice and The Magician attempted to play(not to mention the outburst The Tower had), so they procure some wine from the kitchens and talk away their annoyance.

    Wheel of Fortune long since checked out from the dramatics of the meeting, lost in a daydream before he notices half of the others have already departed. A force of habit, he finds his way to the library, hoping he can get out of any form of responsibility. Unfortunately, The High Priestess has other plans for him. Help him research, or get out of the library.

     The Fool suffers an immediate wave of “oh no” and “what if”. He pops up to his room in a blink, finding his half packed bag in the quarters Feiyan had offered to him and continuing to fill it. He’s almost home free, but The Moon peaks in the open door on the way to her own room, wondering what he’s up to.

     Justice lingers in the meeting room, mostly to eavesdrop on whatever The Chariot and The Lovers are whispering to one another in the corner, but it isn’t long before the pair is gone as well, shoulder to shoulder. It takes a moment before he notices the ever-quiet Hermit, still perched in her chair. He suggests she go find The Tower, perhaps calm him down, maybe prevent him from destroying anything of value. Justice also lightly suggests she uses her gifts to see if any memories of The Tower’s offer any insight into where Feiyan might be. The Hermit finds The Tower fuming in his room.

Happy opening to our incredible deck of cards! We are so, so excited to start this journey with you! This is just the start, after all. Each of you has been giving a prompt to dive off the cliff with and a partner chosen by our Tarot decks in the hands of fate, but you are in no way limited to just what is laid out here! We wanted to get you out of the gates with thread pairings you may or may not have expected to write. Feel free to plot a series of actions beyond what you have been prompted to do, with anyone you like! We anticipate this plot to last roughly two weeks (through May 14th) with a task intertwined next week. 

      On June 20th, The Empress returned to her bedroom to find her walls adorned with shifting vines, a wreath of flowers blooming on her pillow: forget-me-nots and almond blossoms. Do not forget your promise. 

      That same day, Death spied a crow watching him through windows or from trees in the distance. Watching, never moving, never intervening or coming close for another warning. Its eyes were hollow, defeated.

      Judgement’s desk was piled higher by the hour with pages of scrambled notes in his own handwriting, though hastily-written and half-encoded. He had never seen them before they appeared. Over and over all of them say one thing: there is no other way.

       A card which escapes the deck during a reading is often taken as a sign from the universe; while shuffling her deck, The Hermit watched one slide away from the others. Nine of Swords. The warning gave her pause, but she went on with her day until she found nine knives lined up to face her on the counter in the kitchen. Nine needles missing from her knitting basket. Nine tallies etched into the glass of her mirror. It was no longer a warning but a threat: you have let fear rule you, so be afraid.

      The High Priestess and The Tower both found little nudges to consider what they were told, though each carries a different tone. One is carefully tucked into the pages of a book just far enough out of place that it will certainly be noticed by its caretaker, and reads: there is so much more to your world, if only you are willing to take the reins and charge forward. The other is charred into The Tower’s closet door: do you have what it takes?

      Each time she returns to her office, The Magician finds something out of place or disorganized in a way she would never allow in this life. The message is clear enough not to need translation, but she may not be so willing to listen.

      Hardly needing a nudge, and unwilling to receive one from just about anyone anyway, The Emperor is greeted by four small words in her own handwriting on a crisply folded piece of letterhead: my offer expires soon.

      The Fool received… Nothing. Perhaps that was the message. Perhaps he was right to have no faith in himself, just as he doesn’t anyone else.

      The gift left for The Chariot may be the most interesting of all. It’s a tome in old leather, its pages so yellow and thin they feel more like fall leaves than paper, and on them appears to be magic. The sort you draw ritual circles and cast arcane spells from. The sort that should not still exist, because magic is not free. Its prices, however, are not listed within the pages. No message need accompany that to explain the challenge: how powerful are you willing to get? How much can you learn on your own?

                  now.

      In the next few days the mansion is bustling with activity. Councilors band together in groups to figure out what exactly is going on, who they can trust. Perhaps it is high time for someone to call a meeting, but how does anyone know they are not alone in these strange occurrences?

      Luckily for them perhaps, The Empress and Judgement do not have to work hard to trust one another. Quickly they realize they had two very different experiences meeting themselves. He is concerned and she is nothing but enamored by her visit - they do not quite see eye to eye, but perhaps they have important information to share with one another. Maybe they can piece the puzzle together with each other’s help. Maybe they could bring the issue to the Council as a whole, organize an official meeting and be unofficial leaders, but that is up to them.

      The Chariot has been given a key and a choice. Her book of magic contains all kinds of possibilities: scrying, small feats of alchemy, even the promise of commune with the dead. Does the thing itself feel sinister as she holds it in her hands, or can she overlook that to sate her curiosity? If she tries to hide it from the others, she fails at least once. The Tower stalks right to her, chaos itching in his bones. Two Councilors with tight control over their potent magic, flipping through an old spellbook… What could go wrong?

      The mirror selves, the evil twins, the Bizarro World alters - whatever they are, they are not yet finished with the Council. The Devil is ambushed by hers on June 21st, its silver tongue as enticing as any serpent’s. When it leaves The Devil to her own devices, she runs into The Hierophant, whose exact mirror just departed from her, too. Is this a moment of truth between them?

      The next day Strength is met on the shallow river beach by a surfer identical to her. The noise of their conversation draws The High Priestess away from his stroll, though he arrives to find only one Strength at the water’s edge. Is it excitement or fear he tastes on the air?

      At much the same time on another part of the island, an eerily familiar face approaches The Lovers when she is alone. Or when she appears to be. The Fool just so happens to be right around the corner, able to hear every word. He even watches the other version depart, sliding into the shadows like she is made of them. Whether or not he goes to the one left standing is up to him.

      Later that evening The Fool’s feet and powers carry him aimlessly around. If he is looking for some sign that he is not alone, he’ll get something - perhaps not what he wants. He finds The Hermit in a kitchen doting on him as she can be expected to, his other self keeping her at arm’s length but otherwise playing his part better than any actor. He slides The Fool a sly look, one finger to his lips.

      Justice and Temperance are easy to find, concerned only with what disrupted the ley lines and confined often to the lab for research. They send The Hanged Man off to each break location for further investigation. Wheel of Fortune pretends to tag along to be useful, quickly proving they aren’t there to offer much insight. The Sun keeps up the gym schedule even for those Councilors rattled by what they are seeing, and The Star, easily dissuaded from trying to be useful, is only available for advice to those who seek them out.

      The Moon, in a dream, meets a figure identical to her. The strange encounter only grows wilder by the moment as it begins to affect the waking world. How has this other Moon straddled the two realms? She doesn’t get an answer, her commotion summoning nearby Death to, for once, wake her from her nightmare.

      The chessboard has become tangled with unfamiliar pieces threatening the familiar order of things. The Emperor and The Magician feel the change acutely. When they end up in the same stacks in the library tracking down answers to the same question, they face a challenge which is not new, but feels strange: show their cards in pursuit of the answers, or stick to old ways and trust only themselves?

Hello to all and a happy plot day too! Strange things still abound for our colorful cast. Each little detail is being noted and put to good use for our next few events, and now we’ve introduced some rogue elements, too. Who knows what fun that will bring? Those of you who have not had the terror of a special encounter can expect us in your DMs very soon! This event will last from June 19th to July 9th, and a few specific dates are listed above. If you have any questions about when something can or should occur, just come right to us. 

      It is our duty to be the gatekeepers of this gift, or so The Ancients tell us. It’s why we were chosen; in the wrong hands, this level of magic could be catastrophic. The ley lines need care, too, though. If they are ignored, or abused, or even damaged, things could truly turn disastrous. This seems to be our most solemn assignment: to protect the source of our powers.

      It even seems like these magical veins may be more important to The Ancients than they are to humanity. I need to remember to ask them more later. Perhaps in private...

                    before.

      Magic and all its mayhem is an expected occurrence around The Lair. Talking cats, teleporting kids, floating objects, an ever-growing room full of puppies—nothing out of the ordinary there. Even shoes could rain down from the heavens and simply be taken in stride.

      When this happens in Hong Kong, though, it’s a problem.

      The freak weather incident baffled the world. Footage of city streets filled with shoes of all kinds, car windshields shattered by stilettos, and crowds running to find shelter from the fallout dominated the international media cycle. Quick on its heels, no pun intended, were investigations. What caused the shoe storm? Could a shipping plane overhead have lost its cargo?

       Disrupted shipping could have been a perfectly plausible explanation had Temperance not monitored for more unusual happenings. Other instances of strange behavior popped up one after the other. Sleepy Scottish coastal town of St. Andrews saw a sudden spread of dancing fever; residents have danced the tarantella nonstop for three days with no reason or end in sight. Trees all over Toronto appeared to be yanking up their roots and moving when no one is watching, resettling in other parts of the city like they’d always been there. A small church community in Ecuador started losing every photograph in their homes, only for them to show up scattered under churchyard trees, their frames broken or missing.

      Balfour convened the Council only long enough for everyone to agree on one thing: it was their duty to figure out what was happening and how to fix the problem before the public ran out of natural explanations. The Fool and The Hanged Man took off for each destination to gather on-site information. Justice and Temperance pooled their powers to determine the cause of this series of malfunctions, and perhaps even discover if it was connected to the magical failings the Council has already experienced.

      Judgement went a different route, taking to the astral plane to look for clues, and what he found astonished him. Several of the Earth’s ley lines pulsed with light, crying out for help. They had been disrupted by something, causing their magic to leak into the world untamed and wreak havoc on surrounding areas.

      Judgement searched for the who and why of the problems to no avail. Questions still abound—was this a natural accident, or did someone purposefully tamper with magic? Could this have anything to do with the elusive figures watching over the Councilors? If nothing else, this new information gives the Council a direction to move in: fixing the disruptions should stop the leaks.

                   now.

      With some discussion and a few useful, albeit abrasive, tips from Balfour, the Council splits off into groups to handle this problem—the first they’ve ever tried to solve without Feiyan, and one of the more complex problems they’ve ever seen, too.

      The shoe-fall is an immediate issue, and who better than the Council’s own damage control expert to handle it? The Tower goes to Hong Kong to sort the issue out, though he can’t dissuade The Magician from going with him. Disposing of the evidence may just go better with someone to weave illusions over it all anyway. Maybe while they’re there, they can find a clue about what exactly caused the incident, too.

      Fixing Toronto’s forestry won’t be easy, but if anyone is well-equipped to try, and perhaps find out what caused the problem in the first place, it is The Empress. She and The Chariot go together on June 2nd to see if they can set the city and its greenery right without any of the locals catching on.

      Dancing fever needs to be treated as soon as possible, so The Emperor and The Hierophant are sent to Scotland as a pair on June 4th. Three days of dancing have already gone by and plenty of residents need medical attention, but with any luck the Councilors can also determine how exactly the phenomenon started and spread - or, at the very least, they can simply do their best to help.

      On June 5th The Devil and The Hermit take to Ecuador to discover what they can about the Seventh-day Adventist Church of Manglaralto’s missing photos. At the very least, they can do their best to find any that are still missing and return them to where they belong. Disappearing photos seems tame for a magical mishap - unless there’s something else going on?

      Judgement stays behind at The Lair, hoping to learn more about what caused the magical leakages. He finds a few scraps of Feiyan’s old notes and makes some small progress getting Balfour to open up, but upon heading to the library to take up his favorite desk,                                                            he is greeted by a stranger…

      In the meantime, several teams are dispatched to key locations on the ley lines to try their hands at restoring them to their modus operandi. Temperance stays behind to work with Judgement on coordinating everyone’s efforts, and The Sun lingers with them, prepared to jump to anyone’s aid if something goes terribly wrong. Justice visits each location as needed to extend their abilities to help. 

      One blockage appears to be right in the center of Hong Kong, so Death and The Hanged Man go to investigate. Blending in and working quickly are the key elements to their operation. At Judgement’s direction, they find a dilapidated warehouse with a pit drilled into its foundation and then plugged with what must be several hundred pounds of salt. If they can undo the mess, will the leak be fixed? If they need assistance, The Tower and The Magician are just around the corner.

      Strength and The Lovers are tasked with a broken pipeline of magic just beyond the beaches of Montañita, Ecuador. At first glance it appears a rock slide is the cause of the line’s interruption, but a closer inspection reveals shards of glass and iron piercing into the sea floor. Perhaps they can find an explanation for the strange debris, if they don’t get distracted by picturesque beaches instead.

      The Scottish ley line break has been pinpointed to the land outside Boarhills, and it appears many of the locals are experiencing the same kind of dream: spindly Fey figures roaming the countryside, digging into the land itself. In search of what? Is this a clue to what caused the leak? It’s up to The Moon and The High Priestess to find out. If there is one thing they do know, it’s that the atmosphere in town is tense, and even the forest doesn’t seem to want them poking around.

      A thunderstorm over Strange, Ontario has made it difficult to figure out precisely where the leakage there is, but with a little luck and some well-placed talent, perhaps this is just the right job for The Wheel of Fortune and The Star. It turns out the real problem isn’t cloud cover - it’s the twenty-five iron spikes thrust into the ground, drawing lightning from overhead. Removing them seems easy enough, but where did they come from, and what does it mean?

      Popping in and out as needed, The Fool doesn’t linger in any one place for long. He’s most useful for transport, and he doesn’t believe much in the hysteria caused by all this anyway. Does it matter when reality hardly exists? This is what is on his mind when, stopped off at a halfway point for a break and a drink,                                       he is approached by an eerily familiar figure...

Happy plot day, councilors, surprise! Its our first venture out of The Lair and onto our magically assigned duties! Ley lines are broken, wrecking havoc across the world. You have your teams, get to work! As with our first two very fun events, feel free to continue on with those threads if you have some to wrap up. Reactionary threads are also, again, encouraged. If your assigned task does not have a date listed above, assume it occurs anytime between June 6 and June 19. This event will last three weeks instead of the normal two as there’s a lot of ground to cover.