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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!
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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Again, he blusters a sigh, then brings a hand up to sort of rest the back of his knuckles against his cheek.]
Fine. We'll wait, then.
[He shoves the rest of that toast in his mouth and finishes it off before he continues, sweeping crumbs off the lapels of his jacket.]
I'll just tell you one thing, Blondie. Don't blindly trust everything you see here. And don't trust everyone you meet.
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But then... when had even knowing that his trust was misplaced stopped him?
He glances sidelong at Wolfwood, chewing at his cheek thoughtfully. Vash might have given the demeanor of someone who was oblivious, but he'd long since seen through Wolfwood's ruse. Despite that, he'd willingly gone along with it. He continued to go along with it.
It's a joke that only Vash can laugh at. He shakes his head as he snorts, before turning his gaze fully to meet his companion.]
At least I know I've got one person to trust.
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Some misplaced trust, that.
Wolfwood grits his teeth hard behind closed lips. He doesn't realize the extent of what Vash assumes about his arrangement, of course. He's just been doing his job. That's all he's ever done. Nicholas the Punisher. The Undertaker. The one who will escort The Humanoid Typhoon to what would undoubtedly be a death march to the end.
He's just keeping him alive until then.]
Yeah...yeah. Don't get too ahead of yourself.
[I'm not like you. I'm not a good person. Stop treating me like one.
By this point, Wolfwood can't relent for much longer. He has to reach into his blazer pocket, pulling out one of those new cartons of cigarettes from the Shopkeeper, along with his lighter in his other hand.]
You gonna yell at me if I smoke in here?
[Wolfwood doesn't do it in the main Inn because he knows people would (and that's just kindof shitty to do), but this is Vash's room.
Why isn't he just walking outside when he could so easily do that? Who knows.]
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But he can't imagine the burden that must rest on Wolfwood's shoulders. If telling the truth might ease that, then Vash wants to see it.] You saved my life. Seems plenty trust worthy to me.
[He glances toward Wolfwood's hands and gives a lackadaisical shrug. He doesn't love the smoking, but he won't be throwing him out over it. The alternative is sending him away, and Vash doesn't want to do that yet. Not when they're having this particular conversation.]
Sure. Just don't burn anything. They'll blame it on me, you know! And I don't want to pay damages!
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Wolfwood isn't one of those people, as much as he wishes he was. His walls have substantial flaws, and the cracks are showing more by the day.
The moment permission is granted, Wolfwood is flipping that lighter over in his hand so he can get one of those cigs lit, breathing the smoke in deep before putting it back. He will at least have the decency to exhale towards the ceiling, sorry if your room smells like smoke now. It'll finish smoothing out his nerves, eventually.]
How often has that happened? You act like I'm the only person who has ever stepped in to pull your ass out of the coals.
[Vash is constantly in danger, literally 24/7 due to just who he is as a person. But maybe that's why nobody else has helped him before now. It's safer to be the only one he can rely on, otherwise he'd be getting innocent people killed more often.]
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Still, he knows better than to try and ignore Wolfwood. Not for long periods of time, at least. Eventually he straightens himself up and offers little more than a shrug. Even this won't be enough, though, and so eventually he supplies:]
I had family on another ship. Brad and Luida are their names. They raised me.
[Without context, maybe Wolfwood will think that they're regular supporters. That they're not asleep for years at a time, or busy with work during others. They patch him up when necessary, sure, but they're not like Wolfwood.]
I don't like to keep people around. You've seen what happens when folks get too close. The last thing I want is to cause more trouble.
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What it means is: he does have people. Maybe they're not always around, but that does matter in the grand scheme of things. He's not quite as isolated as one might assume.]
Mmm.
[He hums lowly, breathing out more smoke out of the corner of his mouth.]
So you get stuck with stragglers. Little Missy. Uncle Downer.
[And Wolfwood, of course.]
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[Unlike Wolfwood, he's not going to let that go unstated. They've had their disagreements. They don't see eye to eye. Morally, they're diametrically opposed. But the fact remains that Wolfwood has still saved his ass multiple times.]
The thing is... unlike the other two, I don't feel as scared around you. [He should stop talking before he says something stupid. Now that he's started though, he can't bring himself to stop.] You can protect yourself if somethin' goes wrong. And you're not afraid to smack some sense into me when I need it.
[He draws in a slow, deep breath. The faint smell of cigarettes burns his lungs, even from this distance. Even if he doesn't like it, it's come to feel familiar to him. A few weeks sharing the backseat of a truck would do that, wouldn't it?]
Of all the people I could be stuck here with, I'm glad it's you.
no subject
At least, not anymore.
I don't feel as scared around you, he says, and that actually gets Wolfwood to stop puffing for a moment to just look at Vash. If Wolfwood were a more emotionally mature person, perhaps he could say something meaningful and profound here.
Instead, he huffs a laugh and sticks the cig back between his teeth.]
I knew you were self-destructive, but that's taking it up a notch.
[How is he supposed to handle that? He's glad he's here? Vash doesn't know what he's talking about.]
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That's me. Self-destructive to a T! You're not still surprised by that, are you?
[He grabs himself one last piece of toast, before picking up the plate. He carries it over to Wolfwood, then holds it out.]
You can have the rest. I'm pretty full, now.
no subject
[There's a reason they call Vash the Humanoid Typhoon, for it is incredibly apt. He is a disaster, inviting chaos and destruction wherever he goes simply by existing. Why not have that apply to himself as well?
He's being offered the rest of Vash's toast now- excuse me, their toast- quirking a brow at it.
Even though he's already reaching out to take the plate. One wonders when he ate last because it sure wasn't recently.]
It doesn't taste as good if you're just letting me have it, you know.
[It's more fun when he can steal off your plate-]
no subject
As Vash stands there with the plate, there's a brief moment of hesitation. Vash absolutely entertains the idea of flipping the toast down onto Wolfwood's lap. It wouldn't be the worst thing those clothes had never seen. Coming from No Man's Land, however, he's far less inclined to want to waste food.
Instead:]
Then I hope it turns to ash in your mouth.
[And with yet another wink, he flounces back to the desk.]
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Wolfwood just sort of sits there, slack-jawed as Vash walks away from him, because he can't really figure out why all of that hit him the way it did ("all of that", he winked at you. Twice). The only way he can describe it as is weird. Like, this sort of feeling, you know?
Gestures to Vash's everything.
It honestly probably would have only been exacerbated by Vash dumping the toast in his lap, because Vash doesn't do things like that. It would have been..........
Hot.Surprising.In the end, he can't find words. Vash will instead be treated to the sound of Wolfwood aggressively munching toast across the room.]
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