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sticksandbones2023-12-01 09:16 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2023-12-01 09:16 am
EVENT 007
EBB AND FLOE
A WINTERFUL LIFE
cw: food scarcity
The December snows roll in heavy, and with it, the fear-monsters and little pranksters that harassed you all month disperse into black mist. Whether they were about to kill you, stalking you, or pulling your hair, as soon as the moon hits its zenith, the beasts are gone. The mists float harmlessly into the air, hopefully to never be seen again. Hopefully.
For now, you’re free. The Forest and the Creature within slumber, as the cold seeps into every corner of the confined space you reside in and beyond. No longer will the entities within the woods try to kill you just for putting a toe past the fog wall. No longer does anybody sense a lingering danger. Finally, the Grove is peaceful. You can only hope it’ll last.
Unfortunately, while no mysterious monsters are working to murder you in cold blood, nothing can be done about the river freezing over, cutting off access to fish, and nothing can be done about the General Store running out of meat. The river’s ice cannot be broken nor melted. The grasses and flowers have shrivelled under the extreme cold; the trees are twiggy and leafless. Mysteriously untouched are the gifts from the Guardians — the blackberry bush on the opposite side of the river and the apple tree on the bank near the school continue to fruit throughout the month. Remember to say “thank you” before you feast from what remains.
At the very least, the General Store has plenty of trail mix, vegetables, and crackers. It’ll be a difficult month — but so far, you’ve endured much worse. Surely a little hunger can’t kill you now?
The December snows roll in heavy, and with it, the fear-monsters and little pranksters that harassed you all month disperse into black mist. Whether they were about to kill you, stalking you, or pulling your hair, as soon as the moon hits its zenith, the beasts are gone. The mists float harmlessly into the air, hopefully to never be seen again. Hopefully.
For now, you’re free. The Forest and the Creature within slumber, as the cold seeps into every corner of the confined space you reside in and beyond. No longer will the entities within the woods try to kill you just for putting a toe past the fog wall. No longer does anybody sense a lingering danger. Finally, the Grove is peaceful. You can only hope it’ll last.
Unfortunately, while no mysterious monsters are working to murder you in cold blood, nothing can be done about the river freezing over, cutting off access to fish, and nothing can be done about the General Store running out of meat. The river’s ice cannot be broken nor melted. The grasses and flowers have shrivelled under the extreme cold; the trees are twiggy and leafless. Mysteriously untouched are the gifts from the Guardians — the blackberry bush on the opposite side of the river and the apple tree on the bank near the school continue to fruit throughout the month. Remember to say “thank you” before you feast from what remains.
At the very least, the General Store has plenty of trail mix, vegetables, and crackers. It’ll be a difficult month — but so far, you’ve endured much worse. Surely a little hunger can’t kill you now?
FREEZE THE DAY
During the day, the cold isn’t that bad. Sure, there’s a foot of snow on the ground and more keeps falling, and sure, snowball fights aren’t exactly fun anymore because your fingers get way too chilly way too quickly — but the sun still shines, and sometimes you can stand out in a sunny spot and feel a whole five degrees warmer than you were a moment ago. It’s tolerable. During the night, however, the temperatures dip well below freezing, and the air is so frigid that it dries your skin out on contact. Frostbite threatens to set in within minutes if you aren’t properly dressed.
Fires are harder to light, too, even if they’re indoors. You’ll find that, should you get one lit, it’ll go out within half an hour. None of the buildings stay warm for very long past night, and though they aren’t completely frozen-over, it’s the least bit uncomfortable for those who aren’t cold-faring to cope with. What is there to do, other than grab as many blankets as possible and make a nest or a fort, or maybe even grab a friend and leech their body heat? They don’t need that, right?
While you’re bothered by the weather, the Shopkeeper, Trader, and the two Guardians present within the Grove are entirely unaffected. Rusty, however, is merely a dog. He’ll help himself to cuddling against you whenever he can, including letting himself into your room at night and getting under the covers while you sleep. He will thank you in the mornings by leaving you a simple gift at your feet: A bone he found outside, because he loves you.
…one has to wonder how he broke in in the first place, though.
Fires are harder to light, too, even if they’re indoors. You’ll find that, should you get one lit, it’ll go out within half an hour. None of the buildings stay warm for very long past night, and though they aren’t completely frozen-over, it’s the least bit uncomfortable for those who aren’t cold-faring to cope with. What is there to do, other than grab as many blankets as possible and make a nest or a fort, or maybe even grab a friend and leech their body heat? They don’t need that, right?
While you’re bothered by the weather, the Shopkeeper, Trader, and the two Guardians present within the Grove are entirely unaffected. Rusty, however, is merely a dog. He’ll help himself to cuddling against you whenever he can, including letting himself into your room at night and getting under the covers while you sleep. He will thank you in the mornings by leaving you a simple gift at your feet: A bone he found outside, because he loves you.
…one has to wonder how he broke in in the first place, though.
PARTING IS SUCH SLEET SORROW
Midway through the month, the snowfall begins to pick up. While the Grove hasn’t quite hit blizzard territory yet, the snow is consistent and unending, especially late at night. On occasion, mixed in with the delicate snowflakes, are tiny golden lights. Should they go untouched and unobstructed, they’ll simply fade away when they flutter to the ground. But should you, say, catch one on your tongue with the other flakes, or have one brush your hand, or purposely try to grab one?
It will float through you, into you, and your mind will be transported elsewhere. To the past, as you were when you were here originally. It is a vision of your past life, of memories long lost, of a “you” that isn’t “you” as you are now. Whether the golden light has you spectating as if you’re seeing yourself on a television screen, or acting the part of the old “you”, that matters little to the vision the golden light wanted to show you. It will end when it wants to end, you see. You could get an hour of a memory, or a single minute, or three whole days. It might have even dragged in another with you, someone nearby who was hit with a ball of light themselves or happened to pass by.
For those of you who have avoided this fate, you get to bear witness to those that are affected — they’re standing stone-still wherever they last touched the golden lights, eyes closed, as if asleep while standing up. You can try to rouse them, but they won’t wake until they’ve fully experienced the memory being shown to them. The best thing to do might be to drag them inside so they aren’t icicles when they come back to reality.
It will float through you, into you, and your mind will be transported elsewhere. To the past, as you were when you were here originally. It is a vision of your past life, of memories long lost, of a “you” that isn’t “you” as you are now. Whether the golden light has you spectating as if you’re seeing yourself on a television screen, or acting the part of the old “you”, that matters little to the vision the golden light wanted to show you. It will end when it wants to end, you see. You could get an hour of a memory, or a single minute, or three whole days. It might have even dragged in another with you, someone nearby who was hit with a ball of light themselves or happened to pass by.
For those of you who have avoided this fate, you get to bear witness to those that are affected — they’re standing stone-still wherever they last touched the golden lights, eyes closed, as if asleep while standing up. You can try to rouse them, but they won’t wake until they’ve fully experienced the memory being shown to them. The best thing to do might be to drag them inside so they aren’t icicles when they come back to reality.
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
A WINTERFUL LIFE
The Forest has gone to sleep for the month. Unfortunately, the river is frozen, and it's hard to come across much food, save for what grows upon the Guardians' gift plants by the river. Luckily, the General Store seems to have some sparser amounts of food throughout the month.
FREEZE THE DAY
It's cold outside! Below freezing, actually! And for some reason, heat indoors just doesn't stick. Luckily you can cuddle with friends, in your own nest of blankets, or with Rusty, who is somehow breaking into everybody's bedrooms even if you've locked all your doors and windows. Hello, hi, he loves you and he is cold.
PARTING IS SUCH SLEET SORROW
Golden lights fall amidst the snowflakes. If you come into contact with one, you'll close your eyes and dream of your past life within the Grove. You might even unwillingly pull someone else in with you.
OOC
Y'all how is it already December. If you'd like to plot with people for this event, head over to OOC plotting. Reminder that AC for the month of December is check-in only, which means that if you're not feelin' it you can simply put in a "hi I still go here" comment and exit for the rest of the month. It's the holiday season, after all, so we don't expect you to give up family time for our silly little game. Regular AC will resume in January, and that will also be when our next TDM occurs. Happy holidays!
UPDATES
❖ None yet!
C I GUESS
Which is why he doesn't wake until mid-morning the next day. His eyes flutter open slowly, and he stares up at the ceiling groggily. His hand lifts, carding a still too cold metal hand through his hair. For a brief moment, he wonders if he'd dreamt all of their issues in the forest. It wouldn't be the first time his imagination had gotten away from him but -
Oh, no. There's the pain. It rips through him violently, leaving Vash to both wince and exhale a hissed breath through his teeth. It's less than it might have been, but it still damn hurts.
It doesn't keep him from trying to sit up, of course. With some careful wriggling, he's able to prop his elbows beneath him. His upper arm protests from its own wound, but he still manages to drag himself up into a seated position.]
Mmgh. Note to self. No more forest trips.
[Has he realized he's not alone yet? Probably not. It's only after he's pinched his brow and massaged at it that he realizes he should look around. Where had Wolfwood gotten off to, anyway?]
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It's none other than Wolfwood, who is looking slightly different since it's been a day. He's visited Heimr while Vash was out, buying more cigarettes as well as being shamed into buying a winter coat, which he's got draped over the back of the chair he's sitting in. The Inn is cold, but not so cold that he needs that thick jacket on indoors.
And he's...sitting there asleep, judging by the way he's breathing.]
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Despite having thoroughly assured himself of Wolfwood's wellbeing, though, Vash can't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away. Right now, the undertaker seemed to be at peace, and it showed on his face. Wolfwood always had a rugged handsomeness to him that even Vash couldn't deny, but asleep like this? Vash's brain comes dangerously close to calling him beautiful.
That stray thought happens to be what snaps Vash back to a more sensible state of mind. Shaking his head, he forced himself to look anywhere but at his slumbering companion. In the end, he stares hard at a stray piece of fiber coming off his blanket.
The longer he stares, though, the more his mind wanders again. At least this time he avoids thinking too hard about Wolfwood. This time, he sifts back through the memories of the day prior, trying to make sense of what they'd learned. None of it was particularly pleasant. It didn't bode well for their shared future in this world. Nor had any of what they'd gained been worth all the blood shed.
He rubs at one of the more shallow wounds on his chest, then sighs. Trying to wallow like this wasn't going to get him anywhere. He at least needed to clean up a bit.
Swinging his legs off of the bed, Vash pulls himself to his feet. He stumbles just a little, legs weak from both the running and the substantial amount of rest he received. The floor creaks loudly beneath his feet, and Vash winces until the dull roar silences itself. He steals a glance toward the slumbering man, praying to whatever god ruled this place that he was still sleeping. Wolfwood needed his rest, after all.
(And maybe, just maybe, Vash might want to commit that slumbering visage just a little deeper into his memory. Oops.]
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As for why he's sleeping sitting upright in a chair in Vash's room? Well, that one...is a bit harder to explain away. You would have thought he'd just drop Vash off and let that be that, but he didn't. Instead, he personally delivered him here, and then proceeded to keep vigil. Maybe because he hadn't woken up yet, or maybe because Wolfwood has been wondering how Vash's body is reacting to this world. It may be behaving differently, similar to him, in which case...could be bad.
It's not something he'd considered until he had a little too much time on his hands to think about it.
So he sleeps. Even as Vash shifts to get up from the bed, Wolfwood continues to sleep, his head shifting just slightly against his collar. Maybe he stirs a fraction when the floor suddenly creaks, but it's not enough to wake the Punisher just yet. Vash might have to be a bit louder than that, or maybe Vash manages to sneak out without Wolfwood noticing.]
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It does leave him a little unsure of what to do next. Sitting in the room and waiting around would be awkward for the both of them. And when he ambles over to the notebook to see if anything has happened, he comes up empty as well. As he drums his fingers on his desk, however, an idea does occur to him. Namely, it comes in the form of his stomach growling.
Breakfast, then. For the both of them. He just has to manage to get out of the room without causing too much of a stir. Unforutnately, being that he's Vash the Stampede, that winds up being easier said than done. When he opens the door, it creaks loudly, and the sound of it shutting behind him seems to echo down the hall.
Better to hurry, then. He scuttles down to the kitchen and tries to gather something small to eat. He winds up with nothing more than a plate of toast. A few slices have jam or jelly, others have peanut butter, and some still have just butter. It's a heaping plate, but it's not a lot. It certainly won't hold him over for long. At this point, though, he's far more worried about Wolfwood chasing after him for being out of bed.
Eventually he returns to the room, thankfully managing to open the door a little quieter.]
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Granted, it's not his fault the floor creaked and the door made a bunch of noise, this building is probably very old. That said, Wolfwood is an assassin: he was going to wake up eventually if enough noise was made, and that seems to have been his tipping point. He doesn't startle awake so much as he blearily peels his eyes open to the sight of an empty bed in front of him, which does get him to lift his head a bit quicker. He's about to get up and go find Vash so he can make good on kicking his stupid ass, but then he smells something cooking elsewhere.
It's enough to get him to settle back down with a rumbling grunt as he waits for his inevitable return. Without turning to look at the door, he speaks up as soon as he hears Vash come back in, his voice dripping with sarcasm.]
The prodigal son returns.
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The display does leave him wincing, his not fully wounds threatening to open up on him. He sets the plate down on his desk in favor of rubbing at the edges of one of the gouges in his chest.]
You're awake, huh? [He titters nervously.] Was hopin' to surprise you. Or even get to eat all'a this by myself. [He nods to the food.] Sorry it isn't much. I almost burned down the place the other day so... figured it might be better to take it easy.
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Now he's just mad about it tbh.]
If you feel like eating, you must be okay.
[Again, said a bit more flatly than enthusiastic, because Vash. Vash.]
You realize you've been out for a whole day and a half, right?
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The point is, Vash knows he deserves whatever he's getting from Wolfwood. Even if it does smart a bit more than his open wounds do.]
Eh, I always feel like eating. [He gives a half-shrug, thankfully with the bionic limb this time, before sitting down. He grabs a piece of toast with an ample helping of jelly. It's when he goes to take a bite that he stops short, apparently surprised by what Wolfwood says.]
That long, huh? [If not for the flatness in Wolfwood's voice, he might have thought the Punisher was worried about him. Thankfully, he knows it to not be true.] Felt shorter than that! But hey, thanks for letting me nap?
[If he keeps things light, maybe Wolfwood won't be as angry? That's what he's hoping for at least.]
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That said, his job currently is to make sure this idiot stays alive. Which means there's something else he has to tell him about, right now.]
Listen, needle-noggin. [He shifts in his seat, apparently just glossing over Vash's thanks to talk about something else...but it's not for nothing. In fact, it ties directly into what they're talking about.] My meds took ten minutes to do shit, and then a full half hour to heal it all over. If it had been worse, it could have taken hours.
[Meaning, he could have just. Died, before it did anything.]
That's why you were out that long.
[It's likely Vash's body is being suppressed like his is, if his hunch is correct. Whatever Plant Physiology is at play healing him faster? It's not going to be working like it should. Which means, Vash may very well just die if he throws himself in front of a bullet this time.]
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You're okay now, right?
[His toast is set aside in favor of drifting closer. He'd never assume he had permission to touch Wolfwood, but his shirt is open enough that maybe if he angles his head just right, he'll be able to see if there's anything to be worried about?]
You shoulda told me as it was happening. I wouldn't have let you linger behind me.
[Translation: he still would have taken a bullet — or Rose Hound, in this case — for Wolfwood.]
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[You know, busy having his shoulder torn out by that rose hound.
Wolfwood is sort of avoiding Vash's gaze now, and it's easy to see why. He's healed, he has no injuries he's struggling around like Vash is currently. But even then, that doesn't mean the scars don't remain. That creature had its teeth in so deep they nearly rent to the bone, and coupling that with the regeneration working slower than it's meant to?
He has an ugly scar only half hidden underneath his collar, because...well. He doesn't button his shirt, so Vash will have no choice but to see the gouges left behind, a perfect indention of the beast's bite in his skin.]
It's fine. [It's not! It's not.] I'm fine. I'm telling you this because if this place is suppressing my shit, it's going to be suppressing yours too. Got it?
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[Unfortunately, Vash is still far more concerned with Wolfwood. Food now completely abandoned, he shifts into his companions space without much of a word. His hand extends, fingers just barely grazing beneath the glimmer of a scar. The line of his lips stretches downward into a full frown now.
He doesn't know everything about the Eye of Michael, or how its abilities work. He doesn't know what treatments Wolfwood has been through. He barely even knows what Wolfwood's true end game is. But he does know that it's all connected, and that it all goes back to Knives and his plan. He hasn't told Wolfwood as much, for fear of breaking whatever tenuous companionship they've managed, but he still knows.
And so he has to wonder what this is like for him. He's watched the man shrug off bullets with nothing to show for it. They've fought through bandits and threw an entire ion cannon off track, and Wolfwood had still sprinted off into the next obstacle without a scratch. To be wounded now, and to have it linger...]
It'll fade, you know. And even if it doesn't, I think it looks kind of badass! [He tries to force a smile, but nothing comes.] Still look better than I do, you know.
cw: child experimentation
He's staring now at one of his hands, slowly curling and uncurling it into a fist, until he feels Vash reach out and touch him. And while normally he might flinch back or shove his hand away, he...doesn't. He doesn't look, but he doesn't make him move either.
Wolfwood looks tense. Unsure.]
I've got four left. After that...
[He shakes his head.]
I'm used to having scars. But this kind of shit sends a message.
[Only then does he look at Vash, letting his hand relax in his lap. There's a flicker of something in his expression there, just for a moment. It might just be gratitude.]
I look better because I don't just slap metal and screws in and call it good. [...] ...And I'd better look good with the weight I lug around.
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He should step back. Instead, though he shakes his head, he stays crowded in close even as he mumbles:]
You saw the mess I was packin', huh? [Does he sound sheepish? Ashamed, even? Maybe. He knows he's a mess to look at. He isn't proud of it in an aesthetic sense. But he's proud of how he's earned them. Every wound is a bullet he didn't fire. He can own up to that.
He does shy back at the self-directed compliment though. Just for a second, and just long enough for his gaze to slide downward. It's not his fault that Wolfwood's shirt is wide open and he can see everything. In fact -]
You know, I figured you knew that, since you don't know how to button up. Seriously, it's so cold out there. How have your nipples not frozen off!
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He shrugs one shoulder.]
They've been through worse than a little cold.
[Wolfwood what does that mean, what does it mean-
He maybe does notice Vash's wandering eye, though. And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in a while since they've gotten here, his lips quirk.]
I wasn't even gonna bother with the jacket, but the shopkeeper made me buy it when I was picking up cigarettes.
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What does that mean?!
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He's not going to explain. Have fun with that.]
Sit your ass down already before you fall and break something else.
[He quips as he leans forward to steal a piece of that toast Vash brought. At least for once the tension has been broken, and Vash has managed to lift the mood...even if this time it was completely unintentional on his part.]
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[Is he stammering because of the shock? Or is he reeling because of the laugh? It's hard to say. Either way, he can only stare at Wolfwood with his jaw partially unhinged and his eyes all but watering with tears. Stealing food from him, an injured man? How cruel!
Eventually, he does snap his mouth shut. He even manages a scowl, complete with arms crossed over his chest. Yes, he does wince as a few of his wounds are pulled and prodded, but that's fine.]
After all I do for you! There's plenty more over there, you know!
[Which, speaking of, he's storming over to grab another slice.]
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[He lifts the piece of toast he stole before taking a bite out of it.]
I'm taking this as payment for having to keep an eye on you this whole time.
[Well.
Nobody said you HAD to]
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You were here the whole time? [Well, surely not the whole time. He had to grab that jacket from somewhere. But that was a matter of minutes, maybe an hour or so.]
You - didn't need to do that, you know. I know it was probably — inconvenient.
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Wolfwood pauses mid chew before looking away again, his smile slowly faltering.]
You passed out before we even made it into town.
[Which sounds like a normal thing to do when you've lost blood, right? But the way Wolfwood says it...there's an inflection to his words that sounds particularly grave.
He's never once seen Vash falter like that. He's never collapsed. Not even when he's been shot at, or pummeled into brick and mortar, somehow he keeps going. You don't mean to tell him that the claws of a beast were enough to do this much damage?
No way. There's no way.]
I would have just left you here, but that doctor patched you up. You still didn't wake up.
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He doesn't know what it means, both for himself and in the grand scheme. He doesn't like thinking about it, either. If he can't throw himself into danger as willingly, what else could he do. Throwing fists would only get him so far.
... Though of course, the longer he thinks about it, the more he knows the answer. He would still throw himself in front of a bullet, even if it killed him. But none of that was going to put Wolfwood's mind at ease, so...]
It was the cold, I think. I was having a hard time breathing, as it was. Keeping myself upright was a real nightmare. [He flashes a smile, one that's meant to reassure, even as it wobbles.] Once I get used to it, you won't see me go down so easily.
[Vash wishes he could believe as much.]
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[Yeah. That's probably all it was. Just...not being used to the cold.
Wolfwood exhales slowly, taking another bite of toast. It's a damn luxury, and they're just eating like it's anything else. It still doesn't feel real, not after what they'd been through. It feels like it was just hours ago they were on that ship, and every time he closes his eyes, he's back there again.
What he needs right now is another smoke.]
It's only getting colder. Every day.
[It's not something Wolfwood is used to either, to be honest. It's the first time either of them have ever seen snow.]
...so what now? We can't leave. Can't go back into those woods.
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He takes a bite out of a peanut butter slice. Then a few more. Each movement of his jaw is slow as he thinks. He understands the need to leave. Neither of them belong here. But right now, trying to go running into the woods again was only going to get them killed for real.]
We wait it out. Learn what we can, and at least let the snow melt. [He hates saying it. He thinks of Jeneora Rock, waiting for its plant. He thinks of Meryl and Roberto, waiting for them back on the ship. They were all waiting on him. Relying on him.
Had he even managed to save Hopeland? They wouldn't know that until one of them made it home. Unfortunately for them, it's simply not in the cards.]
We can gather supplies. Figure out who and what we're dealing with. And then we'll try again.
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