Some Sort of Town Hall Meeting

[winebar]

WHO: van Zieks and anyone who chooses to show up.
WHAT: van Zieks tries to catherd and hold a team meeting. Surely nothing will go wrong.
WHEN: About a week after arrival
WHERE: Outskirts of the Beach Area
WARNINGS: Hopefully none but let me know if any need to be added

[One afternoon, a few days after their arrival, a face that may or may not be familiar treks to every farm on the island to deliver what could perhaps best be described as a summons. Even if you happen to be home for it to be hand-delivered rather than placed on the door, van Zieks will not answer any questions about it, dismissing it to all be discussed "at the meeting." His summons reads as thus in very proper and fancy handwriting;]

To All Parties Brought to this Island by the party referring to herself as the "Harvest Goddess" (Henceforth referred to as such for the sake of convenience and not as confirmation of her claims),

Tomorrow at 11AM sharp, please arrive at the location indicated on the map shown of the reverse of this document. Without any legal structure in place, I can certainly not enforce attendance, however I would hope everyone see it in their best interests to collaborate with the others who are in their same situation.

If you are willing, it would expedite things for this meeting and potential future ones to write your personal answers and bring that record to the meeting;
1. Your name, your country of origin, and the year you most recently recall it being.
2. Your profession and any relevant skills to our current situation
3. Your opinion on the existence of god(s) and/or magic/the otherwise paranormal
4. Your opinion of the Harvest Goddess, her claims of divinity, and her promised agreement for returning us to our homes.

Sincerely,
Lord Barok van Zieks, Esquire

(On the other side of the paper, a hand-drawn and rough if not precisely made map indicates a spot on the beaches to the East.)


[Should one decide to answer this meeting summons, they will find van Zieks at the location as early as 10:30AM, but as stated he does not begin formal proceedings until 11. He is dressed only slightly less primly than he was upon their arrival, having foregone his dark outer jacket and gloves, but retains his waistcoat and cravat, along with his fancy boots that are now a tiny bit scuffed. Imagine this outfit with his prosecutor's badge now pinned to it instead of his jacket. He has, somehow, brought a table to the beach, relatively flimsy so it is. If anyone brings him the information he requested he's gathering those on said table.

At 11, he stands behind the table when he addresses the group, commanding attention with a brusque slammed fist onto his makeshift Prosecutor's Bench;]

I thank you all for coming. I think my request in the summons should have made the topics I wish to discuss clear, but in short, I wish to get a broader sense of the scope of some discrepancies I have noticed in our understanding of reality, and following that, an idea of how we stand individually and as a group in regards to our current situation.

Firstly, though, I would like to make clear my personal intentions and credentials, both to demonstrate my intent and as a show of good faith, disclosure, and good standing in which I may claim to have the authority to conduct this meeting. As I said in my letter, my name is Barok van Zieks. I hail from London, England, where, as of the current year of 1899, I serve as a prosecutor in Her Majesty Queen Victoria's courts and have done so for the past ten years.

In my personal experience, the existence of God is widely believed but technically unproven, and the supranormal all inclusive are merely works of fiction and artifice. As far as our host is concerned, in speaking with her I found her unwilling to negotiate, explain herself, or provide proof of her claims. It is for these reasons that I find the Harvest Goddess difficult to take at face value and the prospect of blindly following her orders non-ideal at this time.

I will also remind you all that regardless of your personal sentiments toward our current situation, what she has done constitutes mass kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment. There is, of course, currently no means to pursue this in a legal sense; however, I would move that we should strongly consider attempting to learn all we can about this situation before simply conceding to her terms.

[He takes a dramatic bow and steps back from his "desk";]
I have said my piece, and I open the floor to discussion.

Comments

DOCUMENTS (FOR THE COURT RECORD)

[winebar]

[If you are actually answering Zieker's questions in writing please put it here.]

Satoko

[sugarnaut]

Satoko Fukui, 23. I'm from Tokyo, Japan, and it's the year 2019. I work as a baker and am currently attending college for business and marketing so I can open my own bakery.

I have no opinion on the supernatural beyond paying heed to minor superstitions as a habit from childhood- so I could go either way, I guess? As for the Goddess, I think she's the real deal, but not as powerful as she wants to be. I don't trust her and I don't like her, but I don't want to get on her bad side, either.

[framestory]

[ In very neat handwriting: ]

1. Ellis. America. 2030.
2. University student. Hardworking? I filled out more than half my bingo card already. I had to do her taxes...? Good thing I was working for an accounting degree.
3. [ tfw you are the fantasy and feel like you got asked to prove your existence--there is no number #3 on this paper ]
4. She's real.

[sugarnaut]

( very small, in satoko's cute handwriting: )

why does the goddess have taxes............

Syrlya

[chronosynthesis]

[In writing, but he'll read anything out of needed:]

Syrlya. Originally from the Grove in the Tarnished Coast, Tyria. That's a region, not a country. The year is 1335 A.E.

I'm a Mesmer and once commander to a military organization known as a Pact as well as leader of the guild Dragon's Watch.

Magic is foundational to Tyria's existence and all life within it. It is home to a number of beings that could be considered 'gods' by their power though only the humans refer to their gods as such. The human gods left a few years ago.

I'm skeptical of her intentions but being a god would explain her having the power to reach far across multiple realities to kidnap people.

[associative]

[ In legible, but not necessarily very neat handwriting: ]

1. Gaku Yaotome, Japan, 20XX [ modern day who knows the exact year waves hands at gacha game ]
2. Idol. I don't know anything about farming, but I'll learn what anyone will teach me and I'll do it well.
3. Magic doesn't exist where I'm from. The first time I've seen it was here.
4. Haven't finished forming my opinion yet, but I'd like to get back home so I'll do what I can to make sure I go back sooner rather than later.

Ryuki

[unsync]

Wha...

[ WHAT THE FUCK ]

... I'm Ryuki. I was born in 1996, in Tokyo, and it's... 20... 2...

[ He says it like two-thousand-twenty, but he trails off like there should be something after the twenty. He doesn't really finish though. If prompted, he'll write down 2026, though. ]

...I-I work for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. I think Boss sent me here, but...

[ This isn't a VACATION anymore, it's a CONVENTION for CRAZY PEOPLE. ]

[tot]

[ written neatly but also with some cursive flair here and there. ]

1. Uta, and somewhere in one of the Blue Seas.
2. Singer. I don't have any farming experience but that won't stop me from learning.
3. What's normal for me, might be "magic" to someone else.
4. I think she someone who might be lonely given who she is and has overworked herself somehow given her weakened state. I don't know if she will send us home but that isn't so important to me. I want to help her.

[feralheart]

[ Did M-21 just do it like this so he didn't have to talk. Maybe. It's neat and to the point. ]

1. M-21, Korea, 20XX
2. security guard
3. anything strong enough can call itself a god if it wants
4. can't tell yet

[pactmarshal]

1. Trahearne. I hail from the Grove on the Tarnished Coast, situated on the Tyrian mainland. The year is 1328 AE.

2. I serve as Marshal of the Pact, a military organization dedicated to fighting the dragons on Tyria. Beyond logistics and management, not many skills of this position are transferable to farming.

Before becoming marshal, however, I was a scholar. Part of my expertise included historical and anthropological knowledge of certain farming techniques belonging to a lost civilization; while it may not be directly applicable to farming now, I am confident this knowledge can be expanded upon for practical use.

3. My opinion does not change the fact that magic is a foundational element to Tyria's makeup - it is interwoven through all things and is often a key component in technology. Many have a degree of control over magic (I, myself, am a necromancer).

Tyrian humans worship gods. These are beings who were said to have shepherded humans in from beyond the Mists and brought magic to Tyria. While they once lived among the people, they no longer do. And in recent years, I have heard from my more religious human cohort that their prayers have been going unanswered for some time now, but I personally cannot call myself well enough informed on the matter to draw conclusions about this fact.

Most of the other races are religious in one sense or another, but it is the humans who worship "gods" in the strictest sense.

4. Regardless of any of our opinions on her as a person, she is still a being powerful enough to gather individuals from across realities - including the deceased - and keep a somewhat passive eye on us as we complete squares. It would be in our best interest to give her, at the very least, our respect, so that she does not later change her mind about our agreement.

[for8000amonth]

[ in fairly neat, straightforward handwriting- ]

1. Adelis Rosell. The Soma Region of the Ostoyan Empire, on the continent of Etharis. None of your business.
2. Nothing any honorable, law-abiding citizens would be interested in.
3. If you don't believe in magic at this point, perhaps somebody should beat you over the head with it. Gods, however, don't exist. At least, not where I'm from.
4. I couldn't care less about going home. I also couldn't care less about her and her insipid matchmaking.

[ very helpful...not. ]

[flamenova]

1. Pyra, from the land of Alrest. Before I was put to rest, the year was 3565. I don't know exactly how long I've been asleep for. It's likely been several hundred years since.

2. I'm a fire Blade, even though I don't have my sword. I'm okay at cooking.

3. People in Alrest call the god of creation "the Architect." To me, he's "Father," but I've never spoken with him personally.

4. The harvest goddess must have no small amount of power, if she was able to bring me here. I find her terms difficult to understand, but I don't mistrust them.

[hypnowhip]

[Sylvando's writing is done in elegant, well-trained calligraphy!]

1. Sylvando, Erdrea, [insert DQXI year here idk]!
2. Entertainer and leader of a traveling troupe known as the Soldiers of Smile! Part-time adventurer and world saver. ;) I have plenty of experience with physical labor and basic survival skills for those in need. Oh, and I can patch up anyone who's hurt!
3. It's all very real in my world! I can even do a little magic of my own!
4. I think a lot of you are way too hard on her. I don't doubt her claims, especially when I take into account how much magic must have been put into bringing people from many different worlds to this one place. Though it's a little too soon to tell whether she intends to hold true to her word, I have faith that her heart is in the right place.

DISCUSSION

[winebar]

[And here's where you come to yell at and/or agree with him idk go nuts.]

[passthrough]

[He deliberately hasn't filled out the paperwork, given the sheer amount of red flags on it. But here he is nonetheless, jacket tied around his waist and arms crossed listening to Van Zieks' monologue.

1899... oof. Oof. He keeps his mouth shut but it's hard to hide the wince.

Still, once the lawyer's said his piece, Otegine mulls over whether to even bother speaking up.]

Oi. Any ideas of how she could have gotten us from so many different areas, if we're not planning on taking her at face value about the whole Goddess situation?

[This dude's highly skeptical, that's very clear, so just telling him outright that he's probably wrong isn't gonna go well in Otegine's eyes... not to mention he can't exactly explain why he can say that with confidence.]

i'm not even sorry

[spellsdeadwrong]

[Depending on how closely van Zieks is watching his audience as he lectures, he might see this guy listening with an increasingly mystified expression. Every so often he mouths a word as though he's repeating it to himself ("discrepancies," "credentials"...), and his head slowly begins tilting to one side until it's almost as far as he can go without tilting himself to follow. Who is this guy...

And as Ziekers comes to the end of his discussion, Asuka fairly explodes with his first question, bouncing back upright.]

Who the hell taught you to talk?

[It's. It's not a compliment sdflksdj]

[obliviscor]

[ Figaro listens to all of this, and he looks ridiculously amused more than anything. ]

Wooooooow~ You've put a lot of thought into this, Mr. Prosecutor. I'm impressed. What are you gonna do, throw her in jail?

[ he knows a couple of things about throwing people in jail, but with considerably more torture ]

[tarotcards]

[ and because ichi is indecisive and had to switch out characters again-- ]

I arrived a day later than everyone and took over someone's place. Not sure what happened to her, but she's no longer in the pamphlet and my profile is there instead.

[ through ~magic~ ]

[breweries]

[ shylock just out here smoking a cheap cigarette since he doesn't have his pipe back rip. ]

My. Not a drop of romance in your explanation. Perhaps if you start viewing our current circumstances in a different perspective, you wouldn't be needlessly stressed over the little things.

[sicklysweet]

[How did Owen get here... It certainly wasn't by reading the notices Van Zieks was posting, but it's fine. He shows up nonetheless. It does mean he's a bit mystified by whatever the hell is being talked about, but he catches on quickly enough.]

I've certainly never heard of a place called England, Sir Executor.

[One: there may have been Sages he's run into over the past centuries with accents similar to Van Zieks, but like hell Owen gave enough of a shit about to find out where they're from.

Two: he's well aware he said "prosecutor", but he doesn't know what that is and he wants to see how this stuffy man reacts.]

Isn't it a bit dull to refuse magic when you can clearly see it happening? You don't think all of are from London, 1899, do you? You can't be that foolish if you do... unless your Queen's courts don't care about intelligence.

[He is here to cause problems on purpose.]

[chronosynthesis]

[Speaking of magic, there's something that's been bothering Syrlya since shortly after arriving...]

I've noticed that my own magic seems... diminished, since arriving. Some spells don't function at all and others are weaker than they should be. Has anyone else experiences a similar weakness?

[He isn't quite sure if this is an intentional interference of the Harvest Goddess, so he stops short of accusing her... but he also won't bring it up to her directly for much the same reason.]

[harimaya]

(He has a question for van Zieks in particular but given what the question is...)

Did someone die?

(Anyone is free to answer.)

[lapidation]

[ HE HAS JUST BEEN HERE, DRINKING TEA AND LISTENING IN, but since I stumbled upon this he may as well share. ]

What I found odd, though not as strange as everything else, is that the books pertaining to local myths and legends are missing from the library. If one of you rented them, I am curious of its contents.

[ books going to be returned in a later update as a heads up! but he's just here... mentioning they're GONE. ]

[harvestashya]

[ At some point during this meeting when discussions are being held, during a clear sky and nothing above van Zieks' head, something that resembles wheat swords pierce the sand, making a circle around him like a cage. The last one comes as a bale of hay that threatens to bonk van Zieks' head if he doesn't dodge, but there isn't much room within the wheat swords, though honestly... if van Zieks shoves at them, he can get past them.

A note from the goddess is attached to the bale of hay: ]

Let's broaden our perspectives.
Next time, I won't be so generous. :)

[ It's a warning. ]

[winebar]

[Between the previous discussions he's had with people that prompted this meeting, to the revelation that his own senses (re: what languages people are speaking) aren't reliable, and the overwhelming consensus that he was in fact, wrong in his assessment...

Well. He really can't think of a way to explain this away. He had demanded proof, and well. Maybe this is it. He doesn't even really try to dodge the final hay bale, it bonks him right on the head and with spare bits of straw still stuck in his fancy hair, he dumbly picks up and reads the note, before just sort of sinking into a sort of defeated slump in the sand.]