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sticksandbones2024-01-05 07:59 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-01-05 07:59 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
no subject
B) Everything inside of me | Ice Palace, OTA
C) Just wanted to fit in | Closed to Passenger
D) Wildcard
it's for me prompt
He always has.
He wanders alone for a while. Passenger did not wake up in this place next to anybody, and he would not have preferred to. He has saved some few from getting torn apart with his Arts, yes, and perhaps where matters of survival are concerned, he ought to connect with others and stick with them this time... but the Sand Soldier operates alone. He always has. Even when he seemed to be operating with others, it was only to fulfil a means to an end, and those others had died in fires set by his hands. There's no point to a true team-up, Passenger thinks. This place is not like Rhodes Island where cooperation is fostered and expected. It is, to him, more akin to the backstabbing alleyways of Sargon.
...
Sesa, though, has always been different. Passenger's obsession with him started the moment Sesa opened his mouth about his brother's death, and even if Sesa fights with him, even if they might not be on the greatest terms, the obsession continues on. To say seeing Sesa freezing to death puts some sort of turbulent emotion in Passenger's chest at the sight is an understatement. The urge to burn everything to the ground like he'd done 4 years ago rises... but Passenger has no matches with which to light the flame.
He strays closer. His overcoat is heavy and warm, but there's a second one underneath it, and he wagers he'll be fine for a spell as he drapes the coat over Sesa's shoulders.]
That expression ill-suits you, Sesa. Come, rest with me. Not far from here lies a room in which we may sit for a spell.
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Of course Passenger is also here. It's not like Sesa expected him to not be. It's just that he's been doing a reasonably good job of avoiding him, at least up to now. And now...he's so weak that he can't turn around and walk away, even if he wanted to. His legs wouldn't be able to take him far enough that Passenger wouldn't follow.
And, damn it all, he's so cold that he welcomes the coat placed around his shoulders. It may as well be a drop of water on an inferno, but it's better than nothing at all. He's so cold now that frost clings to his lashes. It won't be long now before he is no longer able to walk.
He's been outmatched. There's really nothing more he can do, and to protest would be idiotic even for him.]
Fine. You seem to be doing quite well for yourself, as it is...
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Passenger frowns, brow knitting together. It's slow-going, leading Sesa to somewhere to rest, and he's not sure if sitting on the ice will or will not be conducive to getting Sesa the rest he needs. Sitting on that second coat may help, for a time.]
Not so, my friend, but I do not have frost clinging to my eyes nor my feathers. Come. I may be able to find some way to light a fire.
[He will not be able to. Theoretically, enough lightning zapping a place would set a fire, but...]
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But for now, he keeps his silence on the matter, merely allowing Passenger to lead him through the icy halls. He remembers passing a room of some sort not all that long ago, but in his haste to continue pressing forward, he hadn't gone into it...it surely has ice furniture inside, which won't be fun to sit on, but at least it's better than the floor?]
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It's good enough for sitting down, though, and so Passenger directs Sesa into one of the frozen seats, hoping the double-jacket insulation will be enough to keep the cold away for a time.
Sesa looks... bad. Passenger silently wonders if the Vouivre's state is getting worse by the minute. When he turns to regard the man, his frown is more obvious. He usually isn't one for face emotions, and, well..]
no subject
It makes him feel weak, somehow. Like he's failing, like...like that image he saw in the mirror had a point.
He huddles in the icy recliner he's found himself in, which has hard edges and doesn't serve to comfort him whatsoever. It's only thanks to the coat that he isn't freezing to it directly, and his body is so cold that there's not enough body heat to melt the ice and get it wet. A blessing as much as a curse. A breath shakes its way out of him as Sesa's eyes fall half closed, his hands coming up to pull the coat tighter around himself.]
I don't...u-understand. I d-don't...understand this. Why am I...
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He shakes his head. If only his lightning was warming and not more likely to kill Sesa early. Passenger would like to think that Sesa will be alright if he's kept warm... but how are they meant to stay warm in a place like this?]
These Arts are unfamiliar to me, [he settles on, an almost-unspoken "I don't understand, either,"] and, to be transparent with you, I am rather concerned about your current state.
[There's nothing in this room that's usable. It looks like Sesa's hands are still wrapped in his usual bandages, and Passenger's gloves are too thin to be of much help, but he supposes something is better than nothing. He pulls them off little by little, regretting the cold that brushes his bare skin immediately... but he hands them over. Sesa's hands are a touch larger than his, but hopefully...]
Here.
["You wouldn't like if he froze to death in here, would you?"
Little Elliot goes ignored. The answer is obvious to both of them.]
no subject
He could be the same aggravated asshole he's been this entire time so far towards Passenger and reject his offering, but...even in doing so, it wouldn't be out of not wanting his help, for once. No, his intentions would be a bit more...altruistic than that, if it could be believed.
His claws reach out, tentatively, but instead of taking the gloves, he tries to push them back into Passenger's hands. His movements are stilted and clumsy, his claws cracking audibly like he can't actually bend them properly anymore, which results in their fingers brushing accidentally. Sesa's are frigid.]
No. You need them...m-more than I do. They would not fit me, besides...
no subject
[For better or for worse, Passenger's twisted obsession with Sesa makes him care. He's always cared, even if his way of demonstrating it is ostensibly incorrect. If it were up to Passenger, Sesa would be fine — not freezing to death, not turning into a block of ice before his eyes — but Passenger's ability to control the fate of others has always been limited in ways he could never get around.
He takes Sesa's hands in his and tries to force those gloves onto them. Eventually, wordlessly, Passenger just slides into Sesa's lap to provide him extra body heat, what little he might have left after focusing more intently on bundling Sesa up.]
As we would with nights in Sargon, [he says, and leaves it at that.]
no subject
The issue with that, though, is that his limbs are so cold he can't move them to stop him. He sits there, helpless as Passenger takes his hands and puts the gloves onto them, likely with a little difficulty since Sesa's hands are bigger. He finds himself worrying, bizarrely, about tearing them with his claws-
...
Sesa's eyes widen, his body stiff-backed in the already unyielding ice chair as Passenger suddenly slides into his lap, as easy as you please, and though Sesa's heartrate had begun to slow from the cold...it picks up considerably in that moment. He grits his teeth, and as if in defiance to the cold, he feels his face briefly flush hot.
As we would with nights in Sargon. Sesa knows exactly what he means.]
P-Passenger-
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Really, Passenger is focused on the whole trying-to-make-Sesa-live thing. He hopes his dwindling body heat is enough. Theoretically, if they were to bundle within each other's coats and cling...
Passenger should say something like "I fear losing you" or "I don't want to see you suffer" or "Remain like this for a while, it's better if you do". But "shoulds" have never been considered with him, not when it comes to Sesa.]
Does the proximity bother you, Sesa? Do you wish for me to leave you to freeze here?
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Regardless, he does open his mouth to speak. Attempt to, at least. Instead of words, he ends up wheezing, a puff of cold steam rushing past his fangs as he feels his body stiffening further, faster, up from his legs now which have frozen solid to the floor. Something he isn't inclined to tell Passenger, if he's honest.]
D...do what you will.
no subject
[Passenger's arms wrap around Sesa's neck, as if that's going to offer anything for him. Without his coat, the skin of his arms presses to Sesa's, and he realises that even his neck — where there are major arteries — is cold. Icy like a corpse.
His frown deepens, and his head falls to Sesa's shoulder.]
I... do not want you to die, Sesa.
no subject
Yet, would he go to all of this trouble for that? To nearly freeze himself, merely in the pursuit of trying to warm him up...it seems counterintuitive, somehow.
His lips twitch into something of a lopsided smile, Passenger's head on his shoulder now in a way he can't respond to, simply because he's stopped moving altogether. His body is slowly super-cooling into ice, turning from flesh to ice and water. His shoulders up still remain, however brief, as his eyes weakly roll over to look at the Liberi out of the corner of his eye.]
E....el.....i-
[He exhales. Then, he stops moving.]
fucked up for you to icon that one and then USE IT ON ME HERE
[There's no way. Sesa just spoke his name — his real name, not his codename, but a fragment of his actual given name. Why? Why, in his last moments, did that come to memory?
There isn't time to wonder about it, as Passenger sits up and puts his hands on Sesa's frozen cheeks and shakes him, something hopeless and desperate in his usually-stoic expression. Sesa smiles, but Passenger — Elliot — frowns, mentally cursing the circumstances, wondering just what can be done, how can Sesa be saved from his fate now?
This isn't what he wanted. It feels so silly to think, knowing death was never Elliot's to control, not as a boy and not now as a nearly-40 year old man. There's nothing he can do besides sit there and take yet another loss directly to the gut.
Elliot sits up, still squarely in Sesa's lap, and brushes the frozen strands of his hair away from his face.]
Sleep well, my friend. Perhaps, in the next life...
[And he leans forward, brushing their lips together in a soft "goodbye".]
:)
Of course, there's nothing else Passenger can do. He's going to become frozen to Sesa if he stays for much longer, yet he sees fit to linger in his lap anyway. He leans in, brushes his warm lips against Sesa's frigid ones, and that...seems to be that.
...except.
The ice, deep within Sesa's face, cracks. It splinters from his mouth all the way up his face to his eye, into one of his horns. It's a deep fissure that only worsens from that point, spider-web fractures forming on the icy surface.
His eyes, previously open wide and unblinking, crackle audibly as they roll in their sockets, shifting to look at Passenger while frozen eyelashes begin to flutter.]
no subject
He sits back, still perched in Sesa's lap. A hand traces the Vouivre's jaw, now much warmer than he remembers it being just a moment earlier.]
...Sesa?
no subject
If he were asked, he'd say he didn't know why he said "Elliot", though that in itself would be a lie.
When he comes to...the first thing he registers is a heat so warm against his face it almost feels scalding. His vision returns before his hearing does, blurry and hazy with how blue their surroundings are, and he sees Passenger's visage extremely close to him. And that warmth he feels...
It's the Liberi's lips, pressed against his own. And as that heat spreads into his face and neck, quickly moving down into his chest so that he isn't left unable to breathe for too long while conscious, his outward reaction might seem subdued at first. Inside, though? He is, uh.
Respectfully, freaking the fuck out-
He tries to speak, taking a short breath that follows with him coughing, his brows knit together as his head sort of flops a little to one side now that he's thawed out from his face all the way down to his shoulders, which is rapidly spreading as the remainder of his body thaws. When he is able to wrangle his frozen tongue into working again...]
I...wha-...t...?
[Shouldn't he be dead? Shouldn't he be...
Why did Passenger kiss him hello]
no subject
[He thought you died, Sesa, moments after he said he didn't want to lose you. And now Sesa is back, probably having conveniently missed Passenger saying they'd meet in their next-next lives. Still, he's glad that he doesn't have to wait that long. Oripathy will claim his life eventually, yes, and it's likely he only has five to ten years left if that, but he'd rather not wait on that. He'd rather not leave it up to chance, not remembering Sesa in their next life, feeling so strongly for him all over again without knowing why...
It's greedy, but he likes the way they are now. Close without being close. Sesa's annoyance with him is entertaining, yet they trust each other to some degree. Passenger wants to mould the Vouivre into a force to be reckoned with, yet wants to help him achieve the vengeance he seeks out of kindness and sympathy. Passenger doesn't believe he wants to move onto the next life until that much is done, at least.
He traces the scales on Sesa's cheeks with his thumb.]
...you're warm, finally. I wonder why...?
no subject
[His reactions are still slow, words a bit slurred as more and more of his body sees fit to thaw. It's still taking a moment for his brain to catch up with what just happened, with the fact that Passenger is still so close to him, warm hand resting against his still frigid- but rapidly warming- cheek.
His arms are starting to regain feeling, now. His claws twitch.]
You...why...?
[Is what he says next, dumbly. Because yes, Passenger, he was conscious in those last few seconds you still had your lips on his mouth.]
no subject
["May have".
Passenger's expression betrays absolutely no shame. He is full-stop going to do this again and not have a single regret about it. He's still tracing his fingertips over Sesa's jawline. He's still close, close enough to where Sesa could probably count the feathers on his head if he really wanted to.]
I'm quite glad to have misjudged the situation. I much prefer you like this.
[You know. Warm. Alive.
A throne for Passenger to sit on.Breathing. His fingers trail from Sesa's jaw to the back of his hair... and he presses their lips together again.You know. For Fun. Totally no reason behind it at all.]
no subject
It was simply nothing, until Passenger pulled him back from the brink. Is still doing this, actually, as he suddenly leans in and kisses Sesa again.
His body begins to thaw...rapidly. What once was ice quickly gives way to flesh and bone, a puddle forming underneath his feet the more of his body melts away. His hands flex and audibly sizzle with just how quickly it happens, water dripping audibly onto the floor beyond the chair that Passenger and Sesa are sitting in.
Sesa...has no idea how to respond. It's clear that he doesn't, but if he wanted to he could easily pull away or push Passenger off of him, now. He has full use of his arms again, all the way down to his claws, but...he doesn't. He merely allows it, not realizing his tail has curled up into a little knot at the side of Passenger's thigh, the tip of it flicking against his hip like "hi".]
no subject
Passenger smirks against Sesa's lips. The voice in his head is, for once, blissfully quiet. It's just them in this freezing castle, keeping one another warm.]
Is it warming you up, Sesa? [Boy you know. You know he's warming back up, you can Feel It. Passenger, who is currently still coatless because Sesa has his still, is definitely able to feel the heat radiating off of the Vouivre.] You aren't still cold, are you?
[Elliot Glover you're Killing him. You're Killing your dragon.
But. If Sesa's tail is anything to go by, he's having a great time right now. It (unfortunately) spurns Passenger on. He boldly, without a single moment's hesitation, swipes his tongue along Sesa's lips and tries to part them with it.
One wonders if Passenger is knowingly messing around, or if he's so grateful Sesa is alive he wants to play tonsil hockey about it... or both, perhaps.]
no subject
Sesa, of course, tries to speak but only finds his teeth chattering audibly in response, fangs clicking shut a few times dangerously close to Passenger's lips given the fact he's so close they share breath. He feels like he should say something, but the words won't come. They're tangled up in his chest with this feeling he can't quite put his finger on, though his brain might helpfully supply all the wrong adjectives. Frustration? Anger? Haha, no no...
Passenger leans back in for another taste. Greedy. Doesn't he know Sesa could snap back to reality at any moment and shove him off, or bite him? Well...perhaps he might, if Sesa were a different Vouivre. His instincts aren't going haywire enough for that, though Passenger sure as hell has managed to short circuit his brain, his lips searing against his still-cool ones as the Liberi seeks an even deeper kiss. Sesa jolts like a teenager sharing their first kiss, and it seems automatic the way his lips part. He hesitates, a shaky breath passing his lips, and when Passenger inevitably seals their lips once more, Sesa...
He leans into it. His tail reaches further, completely beyond his control, as it snakes its way around Passenger's waist from behind, as if to keep him from falling off his lap. Yeah, that's definitely it.]
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