We're free to decide for ourselves exactly where we belong

[sistermagnetic]

Who: Big Sis Mag and friends!
What: Seasonal log! What she's up to at work and around the village
When: Backdated/Forward-dated in the time around the event as suits, this log encompasses the current and near-future SOTRP
Where: Mostly in the village proper. She's a city girl.
Warnings: Will update as necessary.


If you've been around the village for a while, you've seen Magne. If you've just arrived, you've seen Magne. If you've gone anywhere near the Oak & Iron, or the farm run by César Salazar, you've seen Magne. She stands out as one of the more social of the villagers, dressed sensibly but well, with her hair usually tied up around a stem of magnolia blossoms. She is friendly, supportive, willing to point people toward just about anything they could want be it work or play or simply to find someone else that might have arrived ahead of them. She's got a good memory for these things.

Don't mind the knuckledusters that hang from her belt. She won't turn them on you without a reason.

1. Oak Sweet Oak
People have been arriving in droves. Fortunately the food scarcity problem has passed, and the food at the inn where they all end up staying at first is leaps and bounds better than it has been. The staff are kind, if exhausted, and all of them are willing to help get folks squared away as much as possible. Troublemakers are dealt with swiftly and effectively by one of the staffers, a woman in her thirties with enough muscle mass to be a formidable opponent regardless of whether she employed her peculiar magnetic powers or not.

Flag her down for a drink, or a chat. She will take the time to talk as long as you like.

It is also said that she gives pretty great hugs if you need one.

2. Planning For The Future
There's a nice little two-story house in town, not far off of the main drag. It's unpainted, its furnishings are basic, but the lot out behind it is empty and expansive and Magne can be found out there with a roll of paper that she holds tucked under one arm while she paces in specific areas, counting quietly under her breath. She mutters to herself in her native language as she considers her project, and every so often, she goes back to the back of the house itself. A picnic table is set up there to work on top of when she has to stop and make notes, and it is stacked with reference books so that she can make real progress on plans for her expansive future business.

In the house proper, all of the windows and doors have been thrown open, and Magne can be seen moving here and there cleaning up, airing everything out, rearranging the things that are there, and eventually reserving one specific corner that she is only going to accept help from seasons contractors to modify when the time comes.

Come help her out, see what all the ruckus is, provide the peanut gallery. She still has money to earn to make her plans happen and every little bit of encouragement helps.

3. Fight Club
She had posted a notice on the bulletin board about this weeks ago, to get people together for a proper, sporting approach to fighting your fellow man for fun and profit. And now she's actually opened up a space in which to do just that, out near the fields, in an open stretch that wouldn't be in the way of anyone or anything passing through the area. Fenced in using some spare castoffs from César's ongoing farm alterations, with a sign warning passersby that any and all fights here are fine and legal and nothing to be concerned about, the ring is little more than a smoothed out dirt circle recently dried out after the last hard rain.

At the Oak & Iron, on one of her few days off, she can be approached about using the space for formal matchups or challenged herself. This isn't the official ring after all, but she's still working on getting that together. Something that wouldn't be interrupted by weather or monsters.

A paper is smoothed on the tabletop, with the names of interested parties, and a few bullet points to address concerns that anyone might have. A healer available for when accidents inevitably happened, and a list of the rules of engagement that boiled down to "you have to agree to one another's terms but otherwise it's all copacetic". Do you want to peek in on proceedings or add in your two-brass? Feel free!

4. WILDCARD
Do you want to simply find Magne out and about, invite her somewhere, hang out, hire her for whatever you might like a well-muscled lady bouncer for? Find her primarily at the Oak & Iron, or else out at her home, or at César's farm!

Comments

2

[pineapplesalmon]

César walks off the main drag solely because he wants to look at something without most people seeing him. He pulls out a little slip of paper and unfolds it, looking at it. Only for a few seconds, gazing at it lovingly, before he folds it back up along its heavily creased folds and shoves it back into the front pocket of his shirt. Then, he looks up, and after a moment of surprise, gives a laugh at how fate has a sense of humor.

"Hola, mi amorcita!" César brightens into a wide smile as he catches sight of his little heart, because making something small is always cuter. "Plotting something?"

[sistermagnetic]

Whatever César might be up to, she hasn't caught him at it quite yet, focused as she is on the task she's set forth for herself. She's bent over her not-blueprints as she sketches and labels, knowing that very little that she's trying to do is going to be to scale. She's still working on the rough draft, after all, and making sure that she has the space to work with to begin with.

Hearing another petname for her coming from the road, Magne straightens up, tilting to look back out at the road and smiling brightly at her boyfriend approaching the lot.

"Maybe," she replies in a lightly teasing tone. "Actually, I might want your opinion on something, if you've got a minute." She smooths down the paper roll as she says it, and points out the square that represents the main house. "Do you think sound-proofing the place will take up space?"

[pineapplesalmon]

She'll know soon enough!

César's heart skips a beat over that bright smile returning his. He turns and makes a beeline to her side, pausing to kiss her cheek before pouring over the paper roll she's been sketching on. A quick rough draft; oh, she's full on scheming, here!

"I've always got time for you." César glances back up to her with another smile before looking at the paper again and letting his analytical half take over, rubbing his chin in thought. "Soundproofing always takes up space. ... hmm, with the available materials we have here, you could lose only about 16 centimeters per wall. And maybe a bit more in ceiling height since floors are worse. But if you need it, it'd be worth the loss of space. With careful furniture selection or alterations, you'll barely notice."

[sistermagnetic]

She nods and bends to mark a few little brackets off of a couple of the corners of her plans, writing down the measurement he's suggested. Up near the top of the smaller square where it meets the much larger shape, she notes slightly more of that extra soundproofing measurement, before adding another few notations to the upper corner of the paper that's filling rapidly with notes.

"If I can finagle it, perhaps the layer between the ceiling of one storey and the floor of another will work in my favor for integrating it seamlessly," she muses, straightening up with the end of her pen tapping on her lower lip.

3

[maltesefalcon]

On the one hand, Cerrit's never gone out of his way to talk to Magne at work again. But on the other, he hasn't avoided visiting the tavern out of shame for his previous actions. There's the occasional casual glance, and at least once when a patron's gotten rowdy, he's offered to help remove them, if she wants.

But beyond that, he's left her alone.

Until now.

"Do you know anyone looking to get into it to blow off some steam? Hand-to-hand or escrima sticks, I'll keep my talons out of it or wear some sort of gloves if necessary."

[sistermagnetic]

It had been kind of surprising when he'd taken her seriously the first time they'd spoken here; usually such a thing required violence and even then, it was never a guarantee. But here he was, being a patient and sensible type, even helping her a time or two when she's needed to escort someone out before they caused real problems. She may not trust the police of any stripe, but Cerrit, at least, was making up for a bad first impression.

As such, Magne tries not to jump to any conclusion when he approached her in her planning for the first bouts in her ring. And then he actually surprises her.

"A few of us, actually. The real training rings are fine for all that, but we're not exactly trying to be official here. The most I would suggest for you is keeping your feet to yourself unless whoever you're up against is fine with the risk."

[maltesefalcon]

"I'm very good at not tearing people apart unless I absolutely intend to." His crest flicks upward, cheerily. "If anyone's interested in facing me, I'm looking for a good scrap. I can also teach."

[sistermagnetic]

"Then you'll have something in common with most of us, I think." She's watching him with some growing amusement, trying to gauge whether this was genuine interest, or an attempt to keep an eye on her and her contemporaries, or both. Given that he hasn't tried to speak to her again since that first foible, she would also guess that he was hoping to get on her good side to keep there from being any friction in the future. Either way, he's being polite, and so she would continue to be as well. "As of now the plans for the official ring are in place, but the construction will take some time. Until then, I've co-opted one of the training areas for the purpose of inviting others to come and try to take me on."

1

[spaghettification]

The old man sitting alone at a table in the corner hadn't seemed to be a troublemaker. He's been there for a few hours--maybe four, five, now?--his food untouched and growing cold, his stare distant. Occasionally, something on his table would lift a few inches in the air and then settle down again after a moment. The mug, his plate, the chair opposite him. No big deal.

Until some NPC got close, trying to squeeze into a nearby table. They brushed against him, and suddenly the man's fork flew toward the hapless NPC's throat, stopping a mere inch from skin.

Perhaps this is when Magne ought to step in?

[sistermagnetic]

Nothing about him really pinged her in a way that she thought she had to worry, if she's honest. She kept an eye on him in case he ended up falling asleep at the table, figuring that if nothing else she could haul him upstairs to sleep off whatever was happening to him. The floating things didn't even strike her as particularly odd, given where she'd come from. Sometimes people made things float and trained their fine control this way.

The flurry of motion catches her eye though, and in the same moment that that fork is in motion, Magne's hand is around one of the server's throats, using one to polarize and attract the other and drag them out of harm's way. It's inelegant, but it works, and she releases both of them to straighten themselves out as she heads over to investigate.

Delicately picking the utensils out of the air, Magne looks at it, then slowly, carefully settles herself on the opposite side of the table to look Siebren in the face.

"You in there, jiisan?"

[spaghettification]

"I..." There's a grimace, and then his gaze focuses on Magne, confused. He doesn't recognize her. He doesn't know why he doesn't recognize her. There's a long moment of silence, but more focused than his previous scattered dissociation.

[sistermagnetic]

There's a concerning haziness to the way that he's looking at her that tells her that she's going to have to navigate his current state carefully.

"Don't worry about it," she says quietly, and turns to gesture toward one of her coworkers, ordering a pair of cups and a tea pot so that she could pour for him where he could see, rather than risking someone else coming too close and touching him inadvertently again.

1

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy's been manning the kitchens since they arrived, and has seen Magne around work but has also been, y'know, busy. The knives they got from River aren't going to pay for themselves, and the break-neck pace of a kitchen is weirdly soothing.

On this particular evening they hear a commotion from the bar, and Darcy slips out with a parrying knife in hand-

But Magne has it handled before they even get close, huh. The knife shimmers out of their hand and seemingly out of existence, and Darcy gives her a stiff nod.

"I have to know what your deadlift one rep max is."

[sistermagnetic]

Magne's hands prop on her hips as she stands waiting for the problem customer to leave the property after having been frogmarched out of the door while he sputtered about her mandhandling him, her scowl set in place until she's sure she can shut the door again to keep the warm in.

Turning back to see the new kitchen help dismissing their weapon, her expression softens as she considers that.

"You know, I don't actually know? Before all this I had a shop magnet that weighed about... About the same as myself, at least as I was a few months ago. I carried it everywhere with me."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Badass. We really need to get a gym here. I lift about my body weight too, but I'm like. 60 kilos, and I couldn't carry that around with me all day."

Darcy glances around, deciding to make theirself useful and pick up some of the leftover plates and glasses.

"Uh- 'm Darcy, I w- obviously I also work here that's stupid, ehn-" and immediately busies theirself with stacking up plates.

[sistermagnetic]

"Mine was my support item. Something that made me more capable in a fight and generally allowed me more maneuverability when using my Quirk," she explains. As if Darcy would know what a Quirk is offhand.

Magne moves to help with the cleanup, figuring that bussing the tables together would be an easy enough way to continue talking while doing their jobs.

The awkward introduction just gets an easygoing smile in return. "It's good to meet you officially, Darcy."

1

[yournewsidekick]

"Hey Magne," says the pink rat that trots across the length of the bartop.

Nimona's been at the Oak & Iron ever since her arrival, ostensibly taking one of the subsidized rooms. In practice, though, she's mostly scurried around downstairs as a variety of animals, occasionally pausing to wolf down a bowl of food, chat to the staff, or catch a few zzzz's underneath a table.

Or -- because it's Nimona -- cause a little mayhem.

She vaults off the end of the bar, briefly disappearing in the scuffle of feet. Five seconds later, a patron bolts upright with a shriek as Nimona scampers up their pantsleg.

[sistermagnetic]

Magne knows by now not to react when a small pink animal talks to her, after the first time Nimona startled her badly and nearly made her throw the plate she was carrying. She's gotten used to these little pranks and the chaos that ensues, and knows better than to let it get too out of hand.

So the moment that she sees that flash of pink go right up some poor sap's pantleg, she reaches out and claps a hand down on their shoulder, keeping them seated so they don't upset their chair, table, or glass before she's extracted her little buddy.

"If you want to perch there are easier ways to climb up," she notes, nose wrinkled in spite of the casual tone she uses.

[yournewsidekick]

The patron keeps making high-pitched noises of terror that'd be better suited coming from a teakettle, flailing their legs ineffectually. To their credit, though, they don't kick anything over.

Unbothered, Nimona -- a little muffled by the layer of pants -- raises her voice to say, "Are they fun ways?"

By which she means: as fun as seeing a human lose their absolute shit over something the size of their foot?

Oak & Iron - normal day of work

[maximumcake]

One reason why the food quality has improved here recently is that Max has already muscled his way into the kitchen. They'd started him out as a waiter, and he excelled at that job, naturally, but nothing was going to keep him away from the kitchen line for long. Once he was able to demonstrate that the food he makes never goes cold, how could they refuse him?

His friendly personality helps, too. Magne has surely realized by now that from the very beginning, Max has never once looked at her or treated her differently than any other member of the staff. That includes all his playful flirting. Oh, he knows she's taken, but he really can't help himself sometimes.

"Hey, hot stuff, I'm almost done with that six-top order now. Sorry to keep em' waiting. I hope they aren't getting too frustrated with you out there?"

[sistermagnetic]

Max might have made a killing in tips with his ever-affable demeanor and looks to boot, but as soon as he was let back into the kitchen on a regular basis it was clear that that was what he was really meant to be doing here. Magne had had to very quickly learn how to balance much larger orders or else make a lot of trips back and forth from the kitchen.

Max has been terribly kind to her from the moment they'd met, never once looking at her sideways, as if the thought never even crossed his mind. His flirtatiousness is always returned in equal measure, and surely would have led to some speculation if not for it being common knowledge the level of dedicated between her and César. Not that it stops anyone wondering about the status of open relationships, especially among those newer arrivals all being so wrapped up in one another.

Magne's just heading toward the bar to get a refilled pitcher when Max pops his head out. "Don't you worry baby, I've doled out a round on the house to keep them placated until you're done. They know it'll be worth the wait."

[maximumcake]

"It always is," Max says with a flirty wink. But under that is genuine relief at hearing she's gotten ahead of any complaints with some drinks.

"Thank you so much. I always feel so bad when this happens. I promise to whip you up something tasty at the end of rush as a thank you. It will be a Maximum surprise."

2. Planning for the Future (sometime in early-to-mid May)

[graphomaniac]

Lyubov took the scenic route home from the library; since she works half-days, four days a week, and mostly sticks to cataloguing, shelving and sorting out minor book repairs, it's still the early afternoon—and since the library's been kind enough to take her seriously when it comes to her troubles with pain and stamina, she's not so tired as to be thinking of nothing but how she'll get home.

She spots Magne through the open windows, and after some hesitation (spontaneity is still difficult, and she's still shyer than she seems), she decides to come closer to say hello. She was going to go see Magne at the Oak & Iron later, anyway, after all—Anzu has been kept busy by all the miscellaneous troublemakers running around—the yad with the pumpkin head, for one, and all kinds of even stranger nechist' too, and while the apartment above Watson's clinic is lovely and the library lets Lyubov borrow books freely, she's getting rather sick of spending most afternoons at home, reading. That's for Shabbos, after all.

"Allo! Big Sis!" she calls, tapping the windowframe. "Need'st thou help? Or nu, like. Want'st thou distraction?"

[sistermagnetic]

Lyubov's been busy on her own agenda, as has Magne, so not seeing one another for a little while came with the territory. She had been happy to hear about the accommodations that the library had made to allow Lyubov to work, congratulating her in her fortune.

On a day that Magne is working around the front half of the house, cleaning things up and moving the basic furniture around to open up the space, with the intention of making little marks here and there for the placements of everything that she wanted for the future. She looks up from where she's kneeling and marking off the border of what would in the future be a small bar, and smiles brightly at Lyubov in the open window.

"Hello darling! I think I've got everything under control, but I won't say no to some company!" She sits up on her knees, and gestures inside to welcome her friend in.

[graphomaniac]

Lyubov's only too happy to come in, to get out of the sun. First thing she does is look for somewhere to sit — her stamina has been holding steady, but it's still easily depleted and she's still not as steady on her feet as most her age.

"Well, like, company I am always happy to provide," she says, as she takes in the room. "This place ... nu. Thou plan'st aught big here? Not like, in terms of room, in terms of like ... purpose."