sticksandbones | EVENT & TDM 008

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EVENT & TDM 008

LET IT GO

WAKE UP

It’s strange, how as the dawn of a new day finally arrives, coinciding with the howling winds dying out, classic, adorable snowmen seem to have popped up all over the Grove overnight. The fog wall has yet to surround the barren remains of a town that once was, but it’s visible once more in the great distance.

Not that you can see it immediately. Something covers your eyes, and you can feel something heavy and frigid wrapped all around you. As you struggle more and more, the crunch of snow echoes through your ears as you step free- and when you turn back to examine their prison, you’ll realize one of the snowmen was you.

Meanwhile, old residents will get to deal with more and more people popping out of snowmen like daisies, and must remember that this is just their life now. It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.

Though, maybe you ought to help them before frostbite sets in.

MIRROR, MIRROR

The quiet couldn’t last forever. You should have known that something would happen, especially with the fog beginning to make itself known again. And this time, it’s something quiet. As you wake up one morning, there is a mirror on your nightstand — it’s silver and round, able to fit comfortably in your hand and wreathed in crystalline snowflakes.

And as you look into it, your reflection twists into something still undeniably you, but… have you a temper problem? Too many lies? A sadistic sense of humor? All of your worst traits are dragged out and reflected on the mirror, and no matter what, it keeps ending up wherever you are — and whoever else looks into the mirror will see this awful, terrible you, too. All of your worst characteristics, all the things you try to hide, unable to be hidden.

Maybe you keep trying to hide it. Maybe you let it stay wherever it keeps turning up, following you like a particularly terrible walking salesman, or maybe you break it. Regardless, nothing seems to happen… for now.

WITH SHARDS OF ICE

“For now”.

Late into the night, everyone wakes up to a sudden, terrible chill. When you open your eyes, you’ll find that you aren’t in your inn room or home, but instead within a giant castle made of ice. It must be a ballroom of some sort, a grand hall glittering in the moonlight — but looking out the window shows that the world beyond the castle is but a frozen wasteland of more blizzards and nothing else. Though you’ve been granted some of your gear — weapons and some supplies, and coats if you’re lucky — you’ll find that the temperature is dropping steadily, while something approaches…

Peek out the door to the main hall and you’ll see what’s coming so noisily. An army’s worth of hallowed ice knights with all sorts of weapons are marching to the door, intent on slaying the intruders. Should they get close, they’ll attack; should they land the killing blow, you’ll instantly freeze into a solid block and shatter.

And if you broke the mirror that haunted you? On top of all of this, you can feel yourself gradually growing colder, physically and emotionally, and your magic, if you have it, takes on an icy flair that you may find difficult to control. Maybe it's your feet that start to turn to ice first — maybe it's your fingertips. But as the night goes on, you’ll steadily freeze solid, and like any fairy tale, only an act of true love could possibly save you. Good luck figuring out what that actually means. True love’s kiss? A genuine compliment? A hug? What could possibly save you from your fate?

Those of you who survive until morning, who don’t become solid statues of ice or die within the castle’s walls, will be lucky enough to witness the sun coming up through narrow windows the size of your forearm. All around you, the castle starts to melt, dripping freezing water onto your head. For as much as you try to run before you, presumably, drown terribly…

…your eyes will close, and you’ll wake up in your bed, drenched.

FOOTPRINTS IN THE FRESH SNOW

The morning after that dreadful night, things… settle, again. Aldric’s Grove is quiet, and clear sunlight glistens across the snowy plaza and radiates off of frosted trees. Even now, the apple tree and blackberry bushes are unfazed by the cold, though the fruit may taste crisper and chillier than usual. Those that died within the castle return to life, feeling colder than normal for the rest of the day, but there seems to be no lasting damage. And, everyone who participated in the castle “game” receives a mysterious gift: A wooden coin with a sigil on it, resembling a clock with backwards hands behind a shield, attached to frosted pinecones, red berries and sprigs of mistletoe. It feels warm and protective.

You go outside. It’s been some time since anyone’s seen anything from the woods, let alone something that doesn’t want them dead — so imagine one’s surprise when a small family of deer can be seen walking amongst the trees. Birds alight to the branches on rare moments, and it’s surely a sign of something, that life has begun to return to the forest despite the deep snow and deeper chill.

Never mind that one of the deer has an extra set of antlers and another has three eyes. Never mind that the birds sound like people. Never mind that the rabbits have blood on their maws.

It’s just another day in Aldric’s Grove.

SPARK NOTES

CLICK TO EXPAND!

WAKE UP

Good day, new arrivals! You are now a snowman. Hopefully people who have been here a bit longer are willing to give you a blanket or ten.

MIRROR, MIRROR

A mirror appears and starts following you around, reflecting what you think are your worst traits or worst version of yourself is. Other people can look into it and see the awful you, too. You can break it and it'll leave you alone, or you can let it stalk you all month.

WITH SHARDS OF ICE

Welcome to the ice castle! It's cold, but you have your stuff with you, and it's not unlivable. Well, until the frozen army of knights starts marching in with the intent to kill everyone inside, anyway. One lethal hit from them will make you shatter into pieces. For those of you who broke your mirrors, you'll gradually grow colder both physically & emotionally, and eventually start to freeze solid. Don't worry, though, you can be saved through the power of love.

FOOTPRINTS IN THE FRESH SNOW

Dawn rises on the Grove and the dead come back to life. Everyone who participated in the castle game receives a magical charm, though they don't know what it does so far. Animals come back to the Grove as well! ...why do they look like that?

OOC

Happy January! TDMs are game canon as a reminder, and if you'd like to plot with people for this event, head over to OOC plotting. While it is not known to player characters at this time, the charms granted as a reward for the ice castle can undo one future negative effect (i.e. a major death). They are a one-time use item. As for how characters discover this information... idk, we'll see how y'all decide to utilize those. :)

UPDATES

❖ None yet!

SUBMISSIONS

QUESTIONS
INVESTIGATIONS
PAST-LIFE PLOTTING
INTEREST CHECK

(CODE)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A) Knock once for the Father | Grove, OTA

[Wolfwood slept in today.

Vash is already gone for the morning by the time he wakes, and the house is eerily silent. Even Angelina, who usually would have been sticking her tongue up his nostrils to get him to wake up, is curled up beside his neck shivering violently. The reason being that the fire in the fireplace had gone out long ago, and now the cold is starting to really seep in through the wooden slats of the house walls. Sitting up is a chore, what with the bandages he currently has wrapped around his side and hidden underneath the sheets around his ankle and elsewhere, like a white bandage slapped across his cheek. Instead of dipping into his vials, Wolfwood had gone the route of actually heading to the clinic for treatment after his encounter with Nai. His wounds aren't severe enough to waste it on, at least not in his mind...though he and Vash butted heads on it mightily before he was able to convince him to leave it. Even now as he sits there with the fluffy puppy clambering into his lap for warmth, he pulls the vials in his pockets free to examine them, remembering how they'd fallen loose in the forest.

While he's pondering this, the glint of something in the nightstand catches his eye.

Normally he'd probably just leave it, but...Vash doesn't have things. So he's compelled to lean over and pull the drawer open, his hand slipping inside to retrieve the small handmirror within.

He sees himself. Standing in the desert sands of No Man's Land, staring directly back at himself. His facial features are indistinct in the dark, yet his eyes are nothing but pinpricks of red behind his sunglasses. He clutches his gun like a lifeline, and every visible part of him is drenched with blood. Every orifice leaks, from his mouth to his eyes, expelling a bright blue fluid.

Wolfwood...immediately puts the mirror back and chooses to pretend he did not fucking see it, tucks the bedsheets all around Angelina, throws on his clothes (+winter jacket), and heads outside.

Today, he's actually headed to Heimr to be like. Responsible?? And grab a pair of boots. Wearing his loafers without socks in the middle of winter is starting to become untenable, and not being able to run at a moment's notice because your feet are frozen doesn't sit with him well with how this place operates. Would be nice of course if he could actually make it that far.

Out of the corner of his eye, something glints. And against his better judgement...he looks. He peers into the trees flanking the edge of the woods, currently painstakingly crossing the now-unfrozen river while trying not to slip off the stepping stones and bust his ass. Then, his eyes flicker up, catching on the source of the light bearing down on him. The same mirror he'd just tossed away now sits nestled in the branches of a tree at perfect eye-level, as if someone had grabbed it and placed it there knowing he'd see it when he walked past. The same reflection, following his movements, yet its expression remains the same. Blood-thirsty, yet agonized.

Anyone who might happen to be this far out will hear the sound of glass shattering, glittering shards tumbling into the snow around the heel of Wolfwood's shoe. He kicks the pieces into the water, waiting to watch them be swept off before turning to continue towards the center of the Grove.]

B) Twice for the Son | Ice Palace, OTA

[The cold is violently bitter. It cuts through the thickest garment, and Wolfwood now can't help but be thankful he thought to dress himself more warmly when he got out of bed today. Loose snow is a different beast compared to solid ice surrounding you.

It fucking sucks.

It does not help that this place isn't abandoned like most other oddities in this Grove. No, actually, it is teeming with threats, and Wolfwood knows that he's going to likely have to fight his way out. Just like old times, then.

You may find him:

1) With his back to the corner of one of the many icy hallways, holding his breath as several knights from the batallion slowly approach. Their footsteps are heavy enough to rattle their surroundings, like the whole castle may very well come down if too many more pass through here. He's holding the Punisher upright against his chest, one of his hands reaching to try and turn the skull-shaped dial at its apex.

...but he can't. His hand is trembling, and every time he moves to get a grip on it, it's like his hand slips right off. He curses under his breath, trying to reangle it, as the footsteps continue to bear down on him.

2) Sometime after a recent altercation with the knights, he's found someplace to rest. It sucks to have to sit on the icy floor to recouperate, but he finds himself with little recourse otherwise. He's never been this cold. Every breath feels like knives in his lungs, even walking has gotten harder. And now that he's had a moment to warm his hands, he's actually looking at them, realizing that his fingertips have turned a frosty, icy blue. He rubs them together, but he realizes he can't feel them. Not anymore.

3) His condition progresses, but he keeps it hidden. Every time he breathes, it's like a dragon breathing billows of smoke, and even the sweat he works up fighting the knights has started to turn to frost on his forehead and the back of his neck. Down another hallway, Wolfwood peppers another of the knights with lead, just barely managing to keep the Punisher balanced on one knee since he has to kneel down to fire it. Yet Wolfwood seems...angry. Incensed, moreso than usual. Every time he fires the gun, he screams over the din of the bullets firing, the muzzle flashing off the ice around him.]

c) Three times for the Holy Ghost | Closed to Vash + Nai

[In some part of the palace, having tucked himself in one of the few remaining safe spaces not littered with icy corpses, Wolfwood is fighting for his life.

He'd just mowed through another small army by the looks of the carnage all down the hallway from where he'd just been, just barely managing to drag himself around the corner before collapsing. He hasn't taken stock of his condition until now, though it's not like he needs more than a glance to see that it's bad. The frostbite on his fingers has spread up his hands like spiderwebs of ice on a glass, and with his legs sprawled akimbo before him, he can see that from the bottoms of his feet to his knees, everything has turned equally icy and numb. It's why he can't struggle to his feet, because he can't feel his legs anymore.

Panting, he manages to throw open the inside of his jacket with his elbow, barely able to fumble into his pockets to scoop out the remaining vials within. The glass tinkles against his iced-over fingers as he brings them up to look, only to be met with their insides having completely frozen over into solid ice.

His head thuds back against the icy wall he's leaned against, his hair- now frosted white on the ends and ever worsening- bleeding color rapidly the longer he stays still.]

Shit...shit!!

D) Wildcard

[Hit me up if you want to plot something different!]

[Since arriving in this strange, maze of a place, Vash's focus has been nearly singular. He has to find the people that he loves — has to find both Wolfwood and Nai somewhere within the impenetrable walls of ice and frost. He'd found success in the latter, but managing to track down the Punisher had proven to be difficult despite the... noise, he makes.

The rattling fire of the gun he carries is an impossible sound to miss. He's heard it almost since he woke up here. The problem is the way it echoes through the seemingly endless and twisting corridors that make up this castle. He's opened doors swearing he'd find Wolfwood firing at will. Instead, he found only knights that had been promptly sprinted away from.

He can't help but feel that they're going in circles around each other, spinning endlessly never to truly find themselves. Yet even as he thinks that he rounds a corner just in time to see another pile of ice knights be shot to absolute pieces.]

Wolfwood! [He shouts down the echoing hall before sprinting. His boots threaten to slide on the ice as he rounds the final corner and —

he knows something's wrong the second he spots Nick. The hair is the first sign, half-drained of color and riddled with ice. It isn't long until he spots his feet, wearing boots for once but iced over nonetheless. The hands also aren't missed, darkened and riddled with weaving frostbite as they are.

In short, Nicholas D. Wolfwood is a mess. And Vash fears that he's too late to save him, just as he's been too late so many times before.]

Nick... [His voice is softer as all but falls to his knees before him. The ice lets him slide those extra few inches, so that he can grab Wolfwood's hands between his own. The chill of them is almost painful.] Nick, I'm here. I'm here. It's going to be okay.

[Wolfwood isn't sure how he's managed to miss Vash all of this time, either. Both Vash and Nai, come to think of it, though he cares less about the latter than the former, even if knowing where Nai is at all times is crucial to one's continued survival. And though he'd wanted to know where he was...the thing is, he's kindof been avoiding him too. He knew the moment his fingers started to darken that something bad was happening, so it was going to be easier to hide the damage until he could figure out how to reverse it. Knowing Vash, he wouldn't have been able to handle it otherwise. If the way he'd reacted to just a slight gash was anything to go by...

But now, it's Wolfwood's turn to feel panic thrumming in his veins, because even if he thought they'd be able to save his limbs, he can't use the vials. Not when they're frozen over. Even if he could manage to break the glass and put the ice into his mouth, it wouldn't melt fast enough for a full dose to take effect. He'd die long before it had a chance.

So...lo and behold, in what could very well be his last moments in this shitty place, Vash suddenly appears like a bolt from the blue, and whatever relief he could have by seeing him is dashed on the rocks as soon as he realizes that Vash can see what's wrong with him. Not that Wolfwood really knows what's wrong to begin with.]

Does this look okay!?

[He snaps before he can stop himself, teeth chattering audibly. Fuck, he can't even feel Vash holding his hands. He can barely feel the pressure; there's no sensation whatsoever, all of the nerves completely deadened now due to the ice in his veins. If this hadn't killed him first, one of those knights coming by surely would have, unable to actually lift his Punisher to defend himself anymore.

Wolfwood's head ducks forward, the ice crystals in his hair crunching softly with the movement.]

I don't...I d-don't...know what the hell...

[Vash deserves being snapped at. It's a stupid thing to say, when he can already see just how bad the damage is. He could ask after the vials, but he's smart enough to know that Wolfwood would have reached for them already. Something had to be wrong — either they were left at home, or broken in some fight, or something.

But for Vash, it doesn't matter.]

We'll figure something out. Alright? You hear me? [If he doesn't have his vials, they'll just have to find a way out. They'll make it back to the town, and everything will be put right.

Naturally, he thinks of Nai's own affliction. But without a solid grasp of magic, he has no reason to believe that what happened before could happen again. The two simply possessed a genetic bond. More than likely, what had happened was that Vash had simply drawn the curse out of him, just as he drew sickness from other Plants.

There's no reason to believe it'll work again. Not on Wolfwood, who's already proven to be so different from him.

So for now, he reaches for one of Wolfwood's arms and starts to tuck it over his shoulder. How he's going to lug both man and gun out of the castle is beyond me, or find an exit in a timely manner, but he'll figure it out.]

We're gonna drag ourselves back to town, yeah? Angelina's waiting for you, and there's no way you'd ever let down a sweet face like that, right?

[Wolfwood has no idea Vash has seen this before, of course. He has an idea of what's happening to his body since he can feel it, it just makes no sense. Then again, it's not like much here does. It's all magic, all beyond his understanding, and he's too fucked to have the time to put two-and-two together on the how and why of it. Even now as Vash tells him they'll figure something out, that they'll make it back to town to...do what, exactly? he knows it's pointless.

After all, he can't feel his legs anymore. From his torso down, they've frozen solid. Even with Vash lifting him up and putting his arm over his shoulder, he wouldn't even be able to hobble alongside him. It's like he's lifting up completely dead weight. To that end, he doesn't fight back or stop the other as he lifts him up, pretty much helpless to being moved around as it is. As Vash lifts him up, the vials he'd dropped into his lap go spilling out of it and onto the ice, rolling up to rest at Vash's boots, showing him that they've frozen solid.

But, really, how is he supposed to tell Vash that. Would he even accept it if he did? He can see it for himself. Wolfwood's hair has nearly entirely turned white at this point as it is, and now the frost has begun creeping its way up his back and shoulders, dusting the dark blazer with icy crystals.

He breathes out heavily, a deep breath of steam filling the air between them.]

Vash...c'mon.

[He shakes his head, limply. That arm hooked around Vash's shoulders is freezing in place, rapidly.]

[Lifting Wolfwood up isn't the problem, in the end. He's handled worse weight. It's trying to move with him when he's already sliding on the ice. After two attempts to step forward, he gives up and thunks back down onto the ice. A heavy breath escapes him, thick with tears he won't dare shed.]

Don't c'mon me, Nick. Please - [His voice cracks at the end, before he can stop himself. He shakes his head, trying to keep those tears from falling. The despair is already creeping in, and with it the whispers that he's kept locked up for so long. That this was why Wolfwood shouldn't have been with him. That he's a curse. That he gets people hurt.

When he shakes his head again, it's far more violent.

The motion, in the end, draws his attention to the vials at his feet. He doesn't know how many Wolfwood had to begin with, or how many he's used, but he collects them diligently all the same. When he lifts them and finds that the liquid doesn't move, realization begins to come to him.]

S-see - it's fine. I'm plenty warm, yeah? I'll just thaw them out.

[Already, he's trying to shake his jacket free, hoping to tuck one under an armpit or elsewhere against his skin. It's unpleasant, but if it frees the liquid up, he'll be fine, right?

He has to be fine.]

[There's no time, he wants to tell him, but in the end he knows the effort would be futile. Let Vash do whatever he thinks might help, at this point. Maybe it will make dealing with whatever aftermath comes easier. At this point, Wolfwood is too cold to know. So cold, in fact, that his violent trembling has ceased. In fact, it's almost as if his body is warming up, becoming overly hot in even the little clothing he wears as hypothermia well and truly sets in.

He shudders out a sound that's not quite a laugh nor is it quite a pained moan either, his head resting against Vash's shoulder as he slides back down into a sit against the wall. Wolfwood's legs and torso, now entirely solid, hit the ground with an uncomfortably heavy impact.

...so. Now what? He doesn't know...he thought that maybe if he could get to his vials, taking one would reverse whatever damage is happening to his body, but it's clearly not fast enough. Or, maybe he's just learning the hard way that you can't beat magic with science. Cool.]

...hey.

[He finally says, interrupting Vash regardless of what he's doing.]

S'pretty here. Ain't it?

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C that is for Me

does a little jig time to die

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1b for walkies (also 1/2)

2/2

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B2 pls

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I'm back for option D: two grown men crying

:)

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