[OCTOBER'S MOD OPEN POST - PART ONE]

[desperatemods]

all work and no play makes jack a dull boy

all work and no play makes jack a dull boy

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY

It's almost Halloween in the world of the mansion spirits -- so it's time for some fun! These words have ominously appeared on one of the mansion walls and if a character even so much as looks their way or glances at them, they will either de-age or age up. Let's just be glad it isn't waves of blood of threatening twins.

Welcome to Kidmas v 2.0! A bit of a throwback to "i want to play a game". This is the first of two age-manipulation posts! Your characters can either be de-aged or aged up -- and while it's recommended to split multiple characters up between the two posts (mostly for the anti-captcha comment load), the time streams will mesh so that different affected versions can interact with each other. Ageing/de-aging and their memory of these events are by typist discretion, as always. Have fun playing!

Comments

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Zhan is lost.

He is doing his best not to let this alarm him, but he has never been lost before. He knows precisely where everything is. He knows the number of steps from the outside of his mother's home to her waiting arms. He knows where to kneel for Uncle's lessons, the familiar floorboards of that exact spot. He knows every stalk of bamboo in the Cloud Recesses. He knows when and how to bow so that no one will think him impolite. He knows to be quiet at mealtimes, not to make loud noises, to never laugh without reason. He knows to stay on the righteous path.

He does not know where he is right now.

This child's identity will be instantly obvious to anyone who has met Lan Wangji. The thickly layered white robes are unmistakable, as is the forehead ribbon -- although at his considerably reduced height, its long and trailing ends come perilously close to dragging on the floor. They dangle past even the long fall of his black hair. Perhaps most characteristic of all is the deeply serious look on his six-year-old face. He is round-cheeked and golden-eyed and his hands are balled into fists at his sides as he walks through the halls of the mansion, trying with everything in him to remain calm. Running is prohibited.

[summerdude]

A towheaded boy has made his way out from the mysterious mansion, which is far too decorated and therefore claustrophobic for his preferences, and made his way to the garden. Somehow, he's already completely covered in dirt and halfway up a gnarled old apple tree -- he's trying to get his bearings in this strange place. Maybe his mom is nearby?

One of his hands is wrapped in a gauze bandage. He's wearing plain blue jeans, new inexpensive sneakers that have only just been broken in, and a beige t-shirt; he has a brown-and-green flannel shirt that he's belted around his waist, finding that it's warm enough here that he doesn't need it.

Magnus isn't so young as to be unrecognizable to those who know him, but this (living, smilier) boy is clearly somewhere between six and fifteen years younger than the einherji everyone knows and has... some sort of impression of.

[futaille]

Suddenly walking into a completely different building is a lot different from walking into another day of torture school, and infinitely more interesting.

So there is a curly-headed kid, about eight or so, immediately peeking his head into every nook and cranny he can find, an uncannily familiar grin on his face.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad is seven.

He's a serious child, but friendly -- the nuns don't touch him, but unless there's a reason for him to be silent, as at mealtimes or mass, they let him talk. When he's finished with his chores, he sometimes follows Sister Ysabel around and tells her what God has said to him (she listens patiently, steeling herself against the urge to cross herself; it's one thing to know God is real and to be His bride, and another to hear this slight, pale child say, "He said I'll be a knight, the greatest knight in Christendom, and He will work miracles through me, and I'll achieve the Holy Grail to do Him honor." Galahad has lived at the nunnery since he was an infant, and she's watched him grow. She remembers how he never colicked or cried like ordinary babies, how he had fine white hair a day or two after he was born, how Sister Alys used to say he was a changeling and the Lady Elaine had given him to the nunnery because she didn't want to raise an elf's get. It's been so long that she half-feels as if he's their child, a virgin birth from their union with God -- she knows he'll leave when God calls him, but until then he's their sweet little boy, an old soul. Perhaps the Virgin, she thinks, felt that way about her son, too, knowing he was destined for something greater than an ordinary life, wishing she could protect him from the purpose God had set forth for him. Sister Ysabel will weep when Galahad leaves).

He's small for his age, dressed in a plain white tunic and trousers, belted at the waist with a braided leather cord Sister Marta made for him and which everyone has pretended not to notice is rather fine for a child who's meant to live as austerely as they do. His hair is due to be cut, and has grown out to his shoulders. The nuns all scold him for touching things too much, for his hands that are never at rest as he flutters his fingers, smooths the linen of his clothes, rubs at the silver cross that hangs heavy around his neck.

He's never been anywhere but the nunnery before, and he looks around shyly. He doesn't recognize anything, and when he listens for God there's only silence. But there are surely rules here to be followed, if only he can find them out, so he sets out to explore.

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras had been on his way to the café. Instead, he is a good 3 and a half feet shorter than he should properly be, staring around wide-eyed at this building that is very definitely not his parents' house. In fact, nothing at all looks familiar, and the longer he looks around the large house the more disconcerted he gets.

Eventually he ends up in a corner of one of the kitchens, curled up in a small ball with a too-large shirt and trying his very best not to sniffle. He's a big boy now, it wouldn't do for a six year old to be frightened.

[futaille]

Étienne finds a slightly littler kid looking scared in the kitchen that he pops his head in. "Hi," he says cheerfully. "Did you just find yourself here too?"

[untamedantinous]

Lucien nods, curling up a little more. He's not certain what to make of this other young boy --children are few and far between at his own house, unless some of his cousins are about. In any case, he opts to remain silent for now.

[futaille]

"Good to meet you! I'm Étienne. I was heading into school. This is so much better."

[biteybaby]

Sunny Baudelaire is nearly seven years old. She has lost four teeth so far, two of which are halfway grown back in already, their jagged edges sitting unevenly against the rest of her still-baby teeth. Crowley recently made her normally brown hair pink, which she has pulled back into a high ponytail to keep out of her face. She decided to wear a pink tie dye tank top today to match her hair, and can currently be found in her favorite kitchen of the mansion. It's easier for her to experiment with cooking in the mansion than it is at her house, because of the accessibility of ingredients, so she often makes the trip up whenever she's in a cooking sort of mood. To be fair, she's in cooking sorts of moods frequently.

So far it seems to be a relatively normal day! Nothing too out of the ordinary!

[sagramore]

"Jesu Christ, again?" Sagramore demands of the ceiling, and then hurries over to the child that used to be Lan Wangji. "Hey, there," he says, pitching his voice softer. "Art thou lost?"

[sagramore]

By now Sagramore is less caught off-guard. He's decided that appearing to know any of the children already will just be alarming and suspicious, so instead he settles for a bright, "Hello!"

[untamedantinous]

He looks doubtful, but deigns to uncurl from his ball a bit. "'m Lucien."

[timebethine]

And on this relatively normal day, Laertes is up at the mansion again on his usual daily run of gathering dry ingredients to stockpile for Dark. Today, his sweet tooth has got the better of him, and he's planning to return home with a few sacks of dried fruits and chocolate chips of all different kinds.

He pauses in the kitchen doorway when he sees the pink-haired girl, though. Surely he would know if there were someone so young here? Surely Sagramore would know??

"Hallo," he calls.

[sagramore]

"What sort of trouble are you up to?" lightly. From behind, the child could be Laertes or Grantaire or Christ knows, so he tries to sound particularly friendly.

[sagramore]

"Hey," Sagramore says softly, kneeling down beside him. "Art thou lost?"

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Zhan stares up at this very tall adult, then almost immediately dips into his best-rehearsed bow, hands together. He must remember to respect his elders. It takes him a moment longer to muster up an answer, mostly because he is concentrating to the utmost on speaking calmly. "Yes. I am."

[summerdude]

Magnus freezes, bandaged hand on the trunk of the tree, and he peers suspiciously down at the unfamiliar adult. "Um, hi," he says, warily.

[sagramore]

Sagramore has absolutely no idea which one this is. Tally? Could Tally have looked like this before the surgery?

"Hello there," he says, still trying to sound extremely non-threatening to a small lost child.

[futaille]

"Hello, Lucien! Where are you from? I'm from Marseille. I'm pretty sure this is not Marseille because it doesn't look anything like a city outside."

[biteybaby]

Sunny is not supposed to be by herself for extended periods of time anymore, but we're not about to let that get in the way of plot, now are we? So she notices another kid walking around outside. This is exciting for several reasons. The first is that this kid is a lot closer in size to her than anyone else here, except perhaps Mothwing. The second is that she likes getting to show new people around. She's a resident expert, after all. So she toddles her way over. "Toddles" is a word which here means, "Walks like a toddler". She is walking like a toddler because she is a toddler, and they tend to walk like that.

"Hi!" He looks a little familiar, but she can't figure out why.

[futaille]

He turns to face the new voice with a grin that's about as cherubic as he can make it. "No trouble yet, sir. Do you have any recommendations?"

[summerdude]

When Magnus sees the other kid from his vantage point in the apple tree, he frowns, considers his options, and decides there's less stranger danger in talking to a kid than there is in talking to a grown-up. "Hi," he says, climbing down a few limbs. "Weird question. Where are we?"

[ninth_cavalier]

Eight years shy of the novus decem millenium—the nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-second year of the King Undying, the kindly Prince of Death!—Gideon Nav picks up her shoes and runs from the House of the Ninth.

She doesn't have a plan. She doesn't know where she's going. She is eleven years old, and she has seen something she should not have seen and done something she should not have done, and she needs to get out. She runs, and runs, and runs, eyes dry and smarting with the inability to cry, the inability to blink for fear of what she'll see against her eyelids.

In another universe, this would be the first of many escape attempts. In this one, it works.

She skids to a halt in a hallway she doesn't recognize, and blinks against impossible light. Sunlight, streaming through a window, in a clean bright hallway with clean bright floors and clean bright walls. She runs a hand over her stubbly hair, shaved close to her head, and proceeds more cautiously, looking around warily, in case this is some illusion or trick.

[summerdude]

Wait. Is that a baby? Magnus doesn't know anything about babies, but he's pretty sure they're supposed to have a mom or dad around. He looks around, but doesn't see a mom or dad.

Does this mean he has to be responsible? Ugh.

He climbs down. "Hi," he says, warily. "Um, do you have a mom or dad around?"

[untamedantinous]

Lucien nods, hoping very much that his upper lip is not wobbling quite as much as he feels it is.