sticksandbones | EVENT 037

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EVENT 037

Couleurs Embrasées

Drip. Drip. Drip.

As one month gives way to another, the rain begins to dry up. Though the trees above retain enough of the damp to splatter upon your head when you least expect it, the balmy days and shorter nights feel like they should be a promise of better things to come. The beach is but an Ark Gate away, and the mobster lobsters miss their god.

And yet, with the shackles of winter weakness and camp booty shorts cast off, and with his depleted strength beginning to return, it’s only a matter of time until the False God starts a new game.

It begins with a single streak of ink, as if a pen had been briefly dipped into the river. The cloud follows the swirling eddies of the river, little more than a shadow and barely enough to cause a stir. Just as the swath of ink disappears, however, more clouds begin to appear. Some are alive with color, and draw the delight of the Seaborn that make themselves at home within the depths. Others are deep as night, obscuring the depths and staining the skin of whoever might seek to cool off within the water.

Isn’t it strange, how the polluted waters almost seem to still, then change course whenever someone is around? Or how the ink from the water, as it finally washes upon the shore, begins to branch outward and form its own root system.

The disturbances are not limited to the ground, either. Trying to run any amount of water throughout the Grove brings with it the scent of turpentine for the first few moments. The sky above, only recently fixed thanks to the efforts of yourselves and Ydalir, begins to distort once more. Colors begin to drip and blend into one another. It makes for a beautiful sunset, sure, but proves to be an equally unnerving sight all the same.

And since when did your room have such an odd painting in it? Unfortunately, staring at it too long in an attempt to investigate results in a migraine. And yet, in spite of the pain, a compulsion exists within you. Perhaps just one more look?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The ink continues to spread.

Vie à Pleurer, Vie Inachevée

cw: starvation mentions

Your room is not the only one adorned with a new painting. Within a few days, they can be found against the sides of buildings, splattered across trees, and eventually come to bedeck the stones across the river. Trying to scrub them away, as Luca does to the mural now adorning the bar, only results in it returning within a few hours.

Not that they are static things. The longer you find yourself looking at one, familiar shapes will begin to take form. The blob in the corner warps, taking on the shape of your nose, the cut of your hair, and the silhouette of your favorite outfit. For some, the paintings may take the shape of a life you wish you led. Others may find that it was the life you led before, a person they’ve lost, or even when things in the Grove were so much brighter. Whoever painted these, there seemed to be no limit to their creativity. Memories, wants, dreams all play out within the frame. All they need now is you.

And they will have you.

When the desire grows to be too much, when you submit to the indelible call of oil upon fabric, your mind will be drawn inward. A wash of ink and paint sweeps over you, an attempt to erase whatever you remember of the life outside. Whatever controls this space seems to desire complete assimilation, to forget what was and savor what is now. Whether you submit or persevere is up to you — it will not change what happens next. The painted world takes shape, crafting the new story of you.

Unfortunately, while you enjoy the peaceful dream granted by the inkscape, in reality your countdown begins. Both the changes to and deterioration of your body happens quickly. By the end of the first day, tears made of paint will begin to flow from a character’s eyes. Upon the end of the second, the effects of starvation and dehydration have become extremely apparent. At the end of the third, your character will pass away. Locked in the dream as they are, they will be unaware of the changes happening in their body, or even of the passing of time itself. Years, it seems, can pass in but minutes within this realm.

Help will have to come from the outside. Hope that your bonds remain strong, resident of Aldric’s Grove, for it is only your friends that will be able to save you. While it is difficult, those who are not subjects of the painting may still enter in an attempt to save you. The painting will try to push you out, while the painted folk will be hostile or even violent toward you. The message is clear: outsiders are not meant to be here. You will need to work together in order to find a way out, even as the painting tries to pull its subjects back into the blissful dream.

Be it through the carrot of an even more enticing shift in the paint, or a stick in the form of the painting’s false denizens turning against you, the artist seems determined to not let you leave.

Au Néant les Liens Perdurent

Outside of the paintings, the Grove begins to descend into inky chaos of its own variety. The strands of ink that had once been few and far between beside the bank of the river begin to thicken and grow. More streaks join them, streams of thick black slowly beginning to congregate and congeal within the center of the Grove. A circle is formed just east of the clinic and west of the inn, one that spans roughly ten yards in any direction.
For the first few days, you might be able to step over the perimeter it creates as you go about your business. However, around the same time that everyone begins to be drawn to their paintings, the roots of ichor take proper shape, forming an impermeable sphere around this central location. Anyone with the misfortune of being caught inside will lose consciousness and awaken several hours later outside of the orb, none the worse for wear.

At least, outside of the riot of color now dyeing their hair. That, at least, won’t last more than a few days.

As more and more souls begin to emerge from their paintings, they’ll be able to trace the liquid black veins within the grass and earth back to the orb itself. The message is clear: if you want to prevent your friends from being pulled back in by temptation, you will need to take out the beating heart that fuels them. Taking out the monsters on patrol throughout the Grove will be only part of the problem. You will need to band together and utilize your abilities, your magic, and your brains to figure out how to destroy the sphere.

Only then will you discover the heart of what has been haunting the Grove these past few days.

Continuer de Peindre

When all is said and done, there is one small matter left to resolve: the mess that has been made. You didn’t think all the ink and paint would just disappear, right?

Thankfully, Ydalir — now sporting both new found confidence and human skin — is more than happy to provide a solution. With the use of a few runes, the amalgamation of color is collected into a number of balloons and handed to players. She’s seen what you’ve been through. You have confronted monsters of both your own making and of Suri’s. It’s about time you caught your breath and had a little fun.

Said fun comes in the form of chucking balloons at your fellows. They explode in washes of color that leaves clothes, skin, and hair dyed. Some of them even have glitter in them? There definitely wasn’t glitter in your paintings, where did that even come from?

Anyone that might worry that this activity is counterproductive will get a pat on the head and told not to worry. And indeed, within 24 hours, any new messes, either on your person or splattered across the ground and buildings in the area will magically clear up.

It’s just a shame that your own problems could not be cleaned up so easily.

Spark Notes (Click to Expand)

summary

Couleurs Embrasées: The waters of the Grove begin to run with ink, and mysterious paintings begin to show up within the Grove.
Vie à Pleurer, Vie Inachevée: More paintings, including murals and graffiti, show up along the buildings. The paintings take the shape of the life you wish you led, or they might take shape of who you were before, or who you don't want to be. They could even be from your past lives. If you stare into them too long, your mind will be pulled into the painting. If you spend more than three days with your mind in the painting, your body will deteriorate in the waking world and you'll die.
Au Néant les Liens Perdurent: Within the centre of the Grove is... an inky orb. It looks like something you might be able to break into, but be careful: monsters roam, and you'll have to take them out if you want to make any headway.
Continuer de Peindre: It's time to clean the Grove up... by throwing paint balloons at each other! Don't worry, all magical paint will disappear in 24 hours. This is just for fun and therapy.

out of character

Happy June! Everyone say thank you to Aspen for writing this event, and we (Aspen & I) hope you have fun! Please break the orb it'll be soooo funny if you guys break the orb. C'mon. You know you want to break the orb. Please please ple-

updates

Any potential updates, such as characters damaging something important or whatever else, will be put here.

submissions

❖ Questions
❖ June Plotting
❖ Past Life Plotting (Closed to Game Members)
❖ Investigations

code

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✑ DRAGON BLESSINGS [LOCKED TO DGM HOUSE—6/1]

[While not normally a LOUD presence in the house (surprisingly), one always knows when Lavi is (1) awake and (2) rattling around somewhere in the halls. Breakfast this morning was a blink-and-you-miss-it sort of moment with him; bundled up with a blanket over his head in quiet grump he made his way in and whisked away a bowl of plain oatmeal and some tea, disappearing back into the room he (and Alma) claimed. Any attempts to get him to vocally respond will be met with silence and peering into the room reveals nothing but darkness. Stand in the doorway's gloom long enough and you'll see a mound of blankets on the bed claimed by Lavi, empty dishes on the floor nearby.]

Close the door! [A voice hisses out from under the blankets, they shuffle just a little. Just before you shut the door—either inside or outside of the room—the light coming in catches on a puddle on the floor. Is that...

Is that blood?]

✑ PAINT WITH ALL THE COLORS

[Due to his headache from the scales and horn growth, Lavi doesn't really truly notice the paint-induced headache. But he stares at the painting of a quaint English town, it pulls at his nostalgia for the countryside of home and yet he can't place ever having been to this particular town.

He doesn't know it and yet...

Yet when you enter the painting, the Lavi that you encounter there...

Well, he isn't Lavi.]

✑ WHACK-A-MOLE

HI BAN!

[A series of fire snakes—similar to loong dragons—race towards the monster that is blocking one of the main pathways to the orb. The ice creature melts in the places where the fire serpents either hit, bit, or wrapped themselves around it and it lets out a loud cry, attempting to call more frost around it to rebuild itself.

Lavi leans against the handle of his hammer, momentarily winded—he's still not back to normal after having been in the painting. His eye-patch is missing. Will be for a while now. But also that right eye is still fucking closed.

He tilts his head a little, tail whisking in slight agitation.]

Of course ya wouldn't make it easy, ya icicle.

✑ WILDCARD

[Can reach out on plurk or discord or PM if ya want something not mentioned or just throw out your own prompt. The rest of the month Lavi can be found like he was last month, at the riverside or at the bar.]

[For a moment, Lavi will find himself surrounded by a flurry of gentle pink petals, dancing about and filling him with a distinct sense of warmth and love. When they dissipate, he'll find himself with a renewed and enhanced sense of strength, followed in turn by a volley of crystalline arrows raining down on the enemy from somewhere behind him — if he turns around, he'll find a woman hovering slightly in the air, almost aethereal looking, her ornate crystal bow drawn in hand.]

Stand tall, friend~♪

[Jerking just a little bit at that influx of feelings, love being the one that catches him most off-guard. But he does find that he's standing straighter, feeling more steady on his feet. He glances behind him towards her voice and casts her a wry grin, nodding in thanks. While buff-Accommodators are rare, they do exist, he's seen the records.]

Much obliged, yeah?

[Energy renewed, off-kilter emotionally now or not, Lavi hefts the hammer up over his shoulder effortlessly. The barrel is currently the size of an oil barrel but grows two times larger, still holding it easily he winds up like a miner and he brings it down on top of the Pelerin with another burst of flames.]

[If there's one thing you'll have to get used to being around Cyrene, it's the feeling of being loved — there's nothing she adores more than humanity, except perhaps her specific people edging out the rest a bit. But can you really blame her, her friends are so perfect!]

I'll watch your back, so do your best~!

[She chirps out, summoning another volley of arrows with careful consideration for Lavi's wellbeing and proximity to where they're landing.

Lowkey, she thinks his whole hammer thing is pretty cool, he must be soooo strong to wield that thing! Cyrene would have to compliment him once they didn't have a monster to deal with...]

[Sob. He's such on the opposite end of the spectrum with that, he thinks humans are stupid because of how they so easily fall into war because of their greed and hatred. Granted, his thinking has...softened in the past few years, but it's only towards his friends. They're flawed humans, yes, but they're good(-ish). So on the latter bit, they're both the same!

Also feelings, ew. But that's Bookman.

A few more of the same sort of enemy shift out from the Orb's looming shadow while the puddle from the first sizzles into steam under the heat of Lavi's hammer. While not stronger than most humans, it's the Innocence doing the hard work on the ease of him hefting it around. He's also not really paying much mind to where the arrows she fires go, his reflexes seem quick enough (rabbit for you) to keep him well out of ally attacks.

Still, with more of them coming out, he'll let her try and corral them in. Or be bait himself and get them to come in close, he can summon the fire snake on himself but...it's not his favorite thing.]

[Link had made breakfast that morning like he does every morning, and if it were...say, Allen coming to just get a bowl of oatmeal and nothing else, he'd be really worried. With Lavi, not so much, but it's still pretty weird. Not weird enough for him to comment on it, but certainly weird enough for him to commit it to memory while everyone else gets their food. When Lavi doesn't end up returning with his dishes, Link decides to take that as an opportunity to both collect them for him and to check and make sure he's alright.

He isn't expecting to get barked at immediately upon opening the door, which prompts him to still for a moment. Something doesn't feel right the second he enters, his eyes darting across the floor until they catch on that suspiciously dark puddle on the floor.]

Lavi, are you alright? You're behaving strangely.

[Look, Lavi will—at most—come in and grab coffee and then abscond back to whatever he was doing when he remembered what time it was. And that his face was required at one meal at the very least. Just so they knew he was alive and well. As if the noise that he made on a daily basis wasn't enough of a clue most times... And the times he does eat breakfast, he'll eat it there with them.

Lavi stiffens under the blankets, his head throbbing as he tries to concentrate on words, formulate an answer. His tongue feels like cotton right now and just as fluffy.]

'm fine! [Oh yes, that's believable. And no, he's not aware of the blood on the floor.] Damn headache.

[Aaaaaaaand he's able to ignore the throbbing long enough now that his itching is now at the forefront of his brain. Scratching at his left arm, the source of the bleeding. Well. Most of it. Some of it he couldn't help: the horns and tail.]

[Link is sharp. He's immediately tracing that puddle up Lavi's bedside to the source of where it's dripping down, looking to be from something he can't quite make out in the darkness on his arm. A wound? Why would he be scratching at it, did he get bitten...?

...but then he opens the door a bit further and his eyes settle on the horns coming up from his temples, and the tail hanging off the edge of the bed.]

Don't lie to me. You're bleeding all over the place.

[Link retorts matter-of-factly as he steps in all the way, closing the door behind him. All of the lights are off, and while he won't throw them on all at once, he is going to have to crack the window blinds a little so he can actually see what's going on. There will also be a subtle glow from Atuuda, who materializes as Link summons him.]

Are you able to sit up? Let me see.

[Really, Lavi should've known there's no hiding something like this from Link. Kanda he could get away with if he pissed the guy off just enough that it wouldn't result in getting beaten up. Allen was probably the easiest to hide it from unless his worry got the best of him.

The redhead shrinks back from the light slightly, covering his eye with his bloody hand. The culprits kinda blend in with the blood, those lovely little claws that are currently extended because of his emotional state.] I bleed all the time, yeah? Side effect from living with Kanda.

[Lavi glances at the summon, this being the first time he's gotten to see it. He knows enough about it to frown at the blonde.] You'd best be just using that for lighting.

[He's gonna beat you up if you waste your life on him. Not gonna sit up until he gets an answer.]

We'll see. I want to see how bad your injuries are.

[They can't be too bad if he's able to mostly ignore them, but at the same time he knows that to be true of any Executor, so that can't be trusted. He nods towards the bed, prompting the golem to float closer to Lavi so he can see him properly, his gaze raking over his form from head to toe.]

I take it this is new...? As of this morning, or?

[Grumping a bit at that answer, sir. But Lavi does shift himself upright with a grimace while Link looks him over. Yeah, no, not liking sitting right now, so he shifts so he's on his knees on the bed, hoping to ease the pain from the tail area.

And that tail is flicking at the tip, mostly in agitation and pain, the former from this while situation, not Link. A nod.]

Started getting pains just around midnight. [A wince as Atuuda gets near his eye, even the gentle light makes his head throb more. A hand goes up to cover his eye, threading into his hair. Link should be able to see more of the scaling now.]

Mm.

[Link grunts under his breath as he assesses the damage, realizing that the brunt of the bleeding is from Lavi scratching at the scales growing in. That makes a bit more sense. He has to imagine there was a lot more when his horns and tail first grew, but that would have been hours ago by now he imagines.

As Atuuda slowly hovers nearby, Link adjusts his gloves on his hands, pulling them taught at the wrists.]

My healing has been enhanced by the magic in this world, meaning that it doesn't draw as deeply from my life force as it once did. I can heal these wounds, if you will allow me.

[There's more scaling under his shirt but the scratching seems to have been through the barrier his shirt provides, so if anything the fabric is looking threadworn. Glaaaaaaaancing at the gloves, why we getting prepped for surgery, sir? \joking]

I don't mind the injuries as much as I do this damn pain and itching, yeah?

[Still, he knows Link won't take that as a complete answer and holds out his arm.]

Doubt healing will fix either of those, though. [Jolting a little as he bites his tongue taking copper as some blood slips out the corner of his mouth.] Damnit.

[Yeah that absolutely isn't going to cut it, but he's going to gently take Lavi's arm in his hands regardless to look over.]

Healing the injuries should at least help with both the pain and itching, God willing.

[His hand starts to glow as he passes it slowly over the air just a few inches above his skin, and pretty much immediately he'll start feeling warm relief, like a soothing salve being rubbed over a burn.

Anyway, he doesn't have to ask Lavi what this is from. He's read enough about the blessings to know.]

It should subside once the scales are finished growing in.

[Hilariously, it tingles. He at least refrained from snorting at the comment of "god"—mostly because of the pain/itch that's in various places.

Wiping at his mouth with his other hand and keeping it somewhat over it to catch any other blood. We're now gonna pretend he's talking with a lisp because of his tongue bc I verily fail at that.]

Oh, 'm done with them growing in any time they wanna stop. [His back is starting to itch and fucking end him.]

[Look he feels the same way you do, but Link- at least out of everyone here- probably has the most faith still left in him, for better or for worse.

That said, he's going to keep healing the wounds as he passes them, checking to make sure he doesn't miss where the blood has dried overnight.]

The clinic likely has some salves you can use for the itching. Otherwise, you're just going to have to power through it.

...anyway. With you living with four other people, you should have known you couldn't keep this hidden forever.

[If someone has to be religious in this household... Because of all the things they've gone through and seen, Lavi definitely would have lost any sense of reverence for any higher power if he'd believed before.

Lavi nods, halfway paying attention.] 'm gonna see a guy about all this 'nd then head there. [Flamebringer's got experience with it and Lavi trusts his older brother. ~~Not to mention, he's got a feeling that he'd need permission to rattle around in one of the greenhouses.~~] Got recipes for salves and ointments in my head.

Wasn't...trying to hide it, yeah? Just trying to get past...this. [The icky "growing" phase. But Lavi's arm is looking back to its new normal, the scaling dull, needing oiling.]

[Link nods, looking over his handiwork once he’s finished healing. Of course, he’s going to do his other arm too, as well as any other little wounds he has. Sorry Lavi you don’t have a choice.]

I understand. I can’t say I know much about this sort of transformation, but from a physical standpoint, it seems like it should be over relatively soon. Just try not to scratch.

[The last thing he needs to do is scratch and cause the scales to fall off and start bleeding.]

I can also go by the clinic to see if there are any painkillers, if you think you might need them.

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inkandhammer - 2026-06-12 01:14 (UTC) - Expand

[Kanda is one pissed off sonuvabitch today, and has no time for this painting nonsense. He's about to go grab Lavi and ask the redhead to come with him on some sort of patrol — monster-killing, painting-smashing, the works — when all he comes across is a mindless almost-corpse crying paint.

He's pretty fucking sure he can't just smash that painting on their wall over his knee and be done with it, so impulsively, Kanda lets his mind venture inwards, physical body left next to Lavi on their couch. Maybe one of their housemates will find them comatose like this later. Kanda doesn't intend to spend too long within the painting, and is fairly confident that he'll luck out.

Alas, time will tell.

The denizens of this cute countryside do not like his presence here. Eyes are immediately on him as he strolls his way through, nonplussed by their glowers because it isn't like he doesn't already get that in the waking world anyway. When someone throws a rock, he simply ducks underneath it. It takes maybe ten, maybe fifteen minutes before a familiar splash of red alights in his vision, and Kanda pivots on his heel to make a beeline toward Lavi.

Lavi, who looks a lot different than he remembers, but they really don't have time for this.]

Lavi, we need to leave.

[Whomst pissed you off? The paintings? Because it wasn't Lavi! At least until he happens upon the Bookman, not that he could help looking at the painting! It was calming. And he kinda needs that after all the "fun" he had the first day of this month.

The Lavi he approaches jerks at the familiar voice, dropping the little girl's hand. She all but tries to grab it again, glaring daggers at Kanda for taking away her toy. Her features start to resemble Rhode's the longer they're near her—not that it was actually Rhode in this "world". But Lavi's hand, the one Madelyn was going after, is stretched out towards Kanda's voice.

He doesn't quite have bandages over his eyes yet, just his bandana. But his hands are gloveless, so Kanda has a clear view of the Innocence marks on the back of his hands.]

Y-Yu?

[Unsure. Why are you here? How are you here? He's too surprised to correct him on the name right now.]

[The paintings, yeah. The mindfuckery. The paint in the water. The paint in the water while he was trying to do his god damn hair especially.

Now, more importantly, there's Lavi. Kanda sees the outstretched hand and clocks that something is very very wrong, and despite himself, reaches out and grabs onto said hand only to flip it over in his grip and inspect the Innocence mark.

That's not right. As far as he's aware, that wasn't there before. He feels like he would've noticed, but... is there a world where he could have forgotten? There is, because maybe it happened while Lavi was laid up and Kanda was faking his death, but he swears he saw those hands bare when Lavi first arrived wrecked at the Grove, and surely... Ugh. This is no time for him to double back wondering if he missed something or if it's another trick of this stupid painting bullshit. Focus. Focus.

It's dumb, he thinks to himself, but he holds onto Lavi's hand for longer than necessary, glaring at fake-Road for a brief moment before his eyes flicker back to his companion's face.]

We need to leave, [stated for the second time, although he's not entirely sure how to get out, if he's honest with himself.] Yeah, it's me, and this place is dangerous, and I don't really have time to explain why.

[Sounds like it's really the last thing that's the main culprit, everything else is just fuel on the fire.

Hisses just a little at the less than gentle treatment, but it's Kanda, so he's used to it. And jerking back would probably make any remaining pain in the marks worse, so he just lets the other keep a hold. But says nothing about it. He shouldn't have to. They both know what it means.

Confusion is etched across it, from what can be seen under the black cloth. But it's not meant to be across his eyes and the fabric is gradually slipping down from where it isn't tight. He hoists it back up into place covering them, turning his head towards where Madelyn had been.

The girl has slipped away now and is going towards a group of villagers who were sort of gathering to get rid of the intruder. Almost like a mob, sans the pitchforks and torches. For now.]

Leave? No, we need to go get help. [It doesn't matter that he's not longer a Bookman.] They've got Gramps.

[The villagers? The Clan? Who knows.]

[Alma had noticed something off about Lavi, but he didn't know the man like the others in this house did. They had just met last month after all, and though they were roommates, Alma didn't want to presume to know him Like That.

So, he gave Lavi some space. If the guy wasn't feeling well, then maybe he just needed to rest.

So he, as he always has since he arrived here, bothered Kanda for a while.

Still, they did share a room, and he did feel kinda bad that Lavi might be feeling bad. How do you help someone who's sick?

Soup!

Did he make the soup?

Don't worry about that part.

Alma nudged the door to their room open with his hip, quickly stepping inside with Lavi's voice filtering through.]

Sorry, sorry. [He sets the tray down, and squints into the darkness towards Lavi.] You okay? I brought you soup. Don't know if you're feeling bad, but I figured you are.

[Squint x2

Was that blood?]

[Lavi didn't blame Alma for skirting around him like a skittish kitten. After all, the redhead seemed to know him (somewhat) and Alma knew a handful of things. Granted, Lavi also probably tried to bond at night with sharing tidbits if he could; often times one or both of them were asleep before the other came in or could come up with the night's topic/question. Or the answer to.

At Alma's voice, he feels a little dig of guilt about being so rude about it. The guy was extending an olive branch, after all... Well. Soup.

~~Also, he's punching Kanda later for these emotions. And no, not telling him why.~~

He lifts his head, the blanket still covering the horns if not the blood dripping down the sides of his face. But he still looks Alma's way.]

Sorry... [For vocally biting.] 've got a killer headache right now.

[Alma lowers his voice, cause he can be considerate!]

Oh, I don't think soup works on headaches.

[He slowly steps forward, skirting around the pool of blood and everything.]

I think you're bleeding, Lavi. Did you hit your head? Maybe that's why you got such a bad ache.

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EVENT 037

Lavi | D.Gray-Man

✑ DRAGON BLESSINGS [LOCKED TO DGM HOUSE—6/1]

✑ PAINT WITH ALL THE COLORS

✑ WHACK-A-MOLE

✑ WILDCARD

whack-a-mole

hue-bestie~♥

♡♪

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The Prompt for Me

JUST FOR YOU ♥ \twirls

OH Im speen

Phone is NOT gonna like Lavi's accent, so pretend it's there...

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painting hours be upon us

\eats the paint

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ur making a mess out of our room lavi

it's no worse than make-up and whatnot...right????

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