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

i - Closed to Wolfwood

[In one minute, Vash breaks apart. For a split second, there is pain unlike any he has ever felt. This comes despite the fact that he’s been shot at, burned, fallen off of impossibly tall places, broken bones, and watched countless people die before his eyes. None of it compares, not even when combined together. But it lasts only a second.

Then there is nothing.

He doesn’t think. He doesn’t feel. For all intents and purposes, Vash the Stampede simply isn’t. If he were conscious, he might have thought to be disappointed. There was no mournful reunion to be had with those lost. There was no looking down on those who passed. But with nothing with which to process his predicament, he feels — predictably — nothing.

Until he does.

It feels like someone has pressed the rewind button. The pain repeats, only this time his body puts itself back together. Each bit, shattered like glass in midair, summons itself forth until every single inch of Vash the Stampede is put back together. All at once, his mind snaps back to his body, with sensation overwhelming him entirely.

He’s cold. He’s cold and alone and there is carnage everywhere. There is nothing but silence, save for the rapid dripping of a castle that’s long begun to melt. The chill saps his strength, leaving him to wonder if he’ll die once more upon this floor, staring at the remains of laser fire and bullet casings. How cruel, he thinks. At least before, he’d died in his loved ones arms.

This is a death far more fitting for him.

Beneath him, the ground cracks. The ice gives way, and he falls downward, then downward still. It feels like plummeting into the abyss, down into the hell that old book of Nai’s used to describe. Vash thinks to scream, but knows no one will hear him. He can only wonder if death will take him quickly and less painfully. He cannot help but hope for the opposite.

He closes his eyes, waiting to shatter anew. But instead…

Instead, there is softness. Sopping wet softness, but softness all the same. He rises abruptly, looking around wildly. The part of the bed beside him is damp, as if something similar had happened recently. But if there’s anyone there, he can’t tell. He finds himself coughing, distracted as a few handfuls of water sputter out.

Oops. Guess he inhaled some of that.]

ii - Around Town

[The chill does not leave Vash easily, even some days later. He spends much of his time in front of a fire. It doesn’t matter where — sometimes it’s at home with Angelina. Other times he avoids the home entirely, preferring to warm himself by the inn’s flames. More times still, he throws himself into cooking. Like before, he doesn’t seem to flinch if something burns him, or if he cuts himself. But instead of laughing it off, he just continues working.

It doesn’t end there. Even his very movements look and feel stiff. And when his gaze is met, it feels… distant in many ways. Like he hasn’t quite come back to himself. If asked, he’ll smile in a way that doesn’t quite disturb the rest of his face.]

It’s fine - don’t worry about me.

iii - Around Town

[It isn’t a permanent thing, this icy affect of his. Sharp bursts of emotion seemed to melt the exterior, at least. And the longer time goes on, the more it seems to slip away from him. Nearly a week after his return, Vash almost seems like himself again. The cold still doesn’t seem to bother him, but at least he’s more prone to a smile or two.

One could, perhaps, be forgiven for thinking that not everything is right. Particularly, his brain cells may or may not be frozen. It’s the only way to explain why, one afternoon, Vash abruptly sprints at one of the still lingering snowmen. He tackles it, knocking it clear into another snow bank, which he then dives behind.

Are you watching? How closely? For after a split second, that blond head pops up once more, this time wielding a snowball.]

We’re under attack!!

[Is this war? This might be war.]

Edited 2024-01-15 02:20 (UTC)

[Spending an entire night trying to escape an inescapable castle does things to you. It wears you down, hollows you out in a way that somehow still manages to weigh on you. And that's if you're not still raw from having lost your lover just hours prior.

Wolfwood is not doing okay. There are rarely times he is, but right now he's not sure he's felt more at rock bottom in recent memory, not since his botched escape from the facility, Conrad, Legato...at least that had been a more personal failing. He had failed Livio, of course, but he'd also become a failure to himself. He fell backwards into a beartrap that closed shut around him, sealing his fate for the rest of his life. This was an entirely different kind of torment. Even as Wolfwood wanders the icy halls, trying to find a way out of them, he sees Vash's icy cold face behind his eyelids when he blinks. He sees him coughing up blood, spilling over the ice between him and Nai. His clothing is still bloody from it, even though it's frozen over now for the most part. And in numb, aching hands, he carries the Punisher under one arm, and Peacebringer in his other.

It isn't until Gnosis had invited him into a sort of safehouse alongside a previously-dying Enciodes that he finally stopped. He'd stopped...and hadn't really had much of a plan to continue from that point. He didn't know what the Rhodes Islanders' plan was, nor did he care. He simply sat in that solid-ice recliner as silent as the grave, staring at his own reflection in the side of Vash's gun.

Then, as the castle had begun to melt around him, he hadn't wanted to flee. A hypocrite to his very core, he'd told Nai to "get out of here alive", so that Vash's death wouldn't be in vain. But it's hard to really hold up his end of that when he'd lost his will to do the same.

But then he thought about it. Really thought about it. And he knew, in his heart of heart's, that allowing himself to die a miserable death buried in this castle would be spitting on Vash's memory, in essence.

He would need to survive, by whatever means necessary.

Skidding into the hallway, he'd ran. Every fiber of his being screamed out in protest, but he forced himself past it, every breath a billowing plume of steam as he followed the trail of destruction he and Nai had left in their wake. He had no more charges of the Punisher to work with, no way to blast down the melting walls. But surely, one of them would serve as an opening. Just enough of a gap for him to get out.

Then, the entire roof had collapsed on him. In one sudden, final rush of energy, it was over. He hadn't even had a chance to react.

...and then he woke up. Soaked. Freezing.

Home.

Alone.

He knew without even looking around that this was Home, or what had become Home for him. The simple walls with nothing on them, the constant pervasive smell of firewood and cigarettes. Angelina's fur, still clinging to his pillow, tickles his nose. But above all, he's completely surrounded by, utterly overwhelmed by Him.

Vash...he smells earthy. Perhaps what one might expect, from a "Plant". But beyond that, there's something distinctly sweet about it too, like that of a fresh flower, or raw honey. It clings to the fabric around his head, taunting him. Mocking him. He won't get to experience it again. He won't be able to bury his nose into those golden locks to inhale that scent, and when it eventually fades completely from this house, there will be nothing left but a symbol of the destruction Vash hated to his very core.

He wants...to not be here, just as much as he never wants to leave. He feels emotion welling up in his throat for the first time since Vash breathed his last as he turns away from where he should be at his side, curled up with his hands reaching up to fist painfully at his own hair. He heaves a breath, wet from the water in his lungs, and just as his mind begins to fracture, and the air in his lungs turns into a scream-

The mattress beside him suddenly feels heavy. The icy cold wetness has seeped into the back of his jacket, leaving him feeling even less human than before. His heart leaps into his throat and lodges itself there when that weight behind him shoots upright, and he.

He...

Reacts.

Wolfwood sits up and turns in a single fluid motion, not at all expecting to see a familiar face by his side. See, he's come to not trust a single god damn thing in this place, and the last time something "appeared" to him, it was that mirror. Then it was the castle. His face is contorted, nose and brow wrinkled with a kind of incensed rage that he didn't think he still had in him after he and Nai mowed down all of those Knights, but it's just as well that he maybe learns his lesson with this.

Because he has Peacebringer, having wrenched it from his belt, and it's steel barrel presses firm into Vash's abdomen. His trigger finger still itches, and Wolfwood's aim- as ever- is lethal and precise. It all happens in less than a fraction of a second.

The gun clicks heavily, having been exhausted of every bullet back in the castle.

Then, when his eyes settle on Vash's face, locking with those bright blue eyes, the gun drops limply from his hand between them.]

[Something presses into Vash's stomach, but he doesn't notice. No, that isn't quite right. He feels it, and while some part of his brain clicks and thinks maybe they should be afraid, it doesn't process. It doesn't come through. He doesn't so much as wince at the sound of the click, or drop his gaze to look and see what's happened.

The gun falls, and only then does Vash think to look at it. He follows the scraped and scratched barrel of Peacebringer over to the warm brown of Wolfwood's hands, then traces it upward. There's blood on his clothes that just barely manages to get his heart to skip a beat. He knows where it's come from, even if his brain is slow to grasp it.

Finally he reaches that face, marred by anger at first. Vash can't figure out why. Had he done something wrong? Hurt Wolfwood in some way -

The memory clicks into place. This face, but in the castle of ice. This face, but weighed heavy with agony as Vash felt himself fall to pieces. He'd barely had time for last words, and what had come out hadn't made much sense at all.

His hand drops to his stomach, pressing where the wound had been. Through the tear in his shirt he finds the skin hard and frigid to the touch, but nothing more. His gaze flicks upward next, settling on Wolfwood as the reality begins to process. He doesn't feel quite horrified — he doesn't feel much of anything at all, really. It's just the grim processing on a near blank face.

Eventually, though -]

Wolfwood? Nick?

[...what...did he do?

What did he just do?

What is happening?

All of these thoughts tumble around in a frantic cacophony in Wolfwood's head, so loud and incoherent that he doesn't even hear Vash speaking at first. He sees his mouth move, sees the words he's forming with his lips, but he can't hear it over the deafening roar. It's like he's stood next to the ocean, or trapped in the center of a hurricane. There is nothing else but the lingering feeling of cold steel against his fingertips, and the knowledge that he's not capable of changing. Even after Vash fucking died for him, he'll still shoot first and ask questions later. He didn't learn a god damn thing.

A breath he doesn't remember taking shudders its way out of him as he stares back at Vash, trying to comprehend the fact that he's...here. That he's sitting here, next to him, alive and well as if what just happened was all a prolonged nightmare. He knows that isn't true though, because he can see the open tear through Vash's clothing. He had Peacebringer. The edges of his jacket are still stained with blood.

It all feels like a cruel joke, really. If he hadn't been a homicidal maniac back in the castle, he would have shot Vash dead. Point blank. And then what?

His head droops, eyes traveling down from Vash's face and sort of vaugely into his lap. A sort of weird sounding laugh bubbles up in the back of his throat, a tenuous smile that does not speak of anything truly happy at all twitching onto his expression. Then, similarly, his eyes glass over and tears fall whole from his lashes without him blinking, splattering on his knees, on the bedsheets.]

Ha...haha...w...what the hell...?

[If Vash thinks to be angry, hurt, or any combination of the bunch by Wolfwood's actions, it doesn't show. Nothing seems to show on his face. He has to stare at the other man for a long period of seconds, trying to process why he would be so upset. It comes equally as slowly as the earlier realization that he had died. Each thought trickles in slow but steady, not at all like an icicle just beginning to thaw out.

Eventually a hand lifts, cradling Wolfwood's cheek. Like this, he'll feel just how frigid and stiff Vash still is. He thumbs over his cheek, but the motion feels almost robotic at first.

At first. But as the warmth of a tear steadily flows down the whorl of his thumbpad, realization hits him. The cybernetic lifts, feeling almost warmer than the other limb as it, too, holds Wolfwood's face. His head is carefully angled upward, meeting those eyes as his expression wobbles just barely.]

You're crying.

[Vash reaches up to touch his face, and Wolfwood flinches. He almost jerks away, afraid of...something, he's not entirely sure. That this is all a dream, or a trick perhaps. Or that he's going to come to realizing he really did shoot Vash dead, and whatever he's seeing now is the product of a broken mind trying to piece together a more favorable reality.

It's not like he came into this blind. Gnosis told him as much, that Vash shouldn't be gone forever...Wolfwood just couldn't believe it. It'd be different if they were back on No Man's Land, where his powers were at their full potential, but here? Vash surviving something like what he just saw was slim to none, and then some. Even then, could an Independent survive it? He doesn't know. He isn't sure he wants to know.

His expression becomes ugly, still taught with a mixture of grief and disbelief as Vash cups his face.]

W...who cares? You're alive.

[...]

Y...you're alive. Right? It's...you're really...

I think so?

[The longer he thinks about it, the longer he seems to sap some of the warmth from Wolfwood, the more concerned he grows. Something doesn't feel right, he doesn't feel right. His soul feels weighed down, and his body feels abnormally cold. He can't help but think of Nai, or of Wolfwood, and how they both had felt when he'd first found them. Was this the first symptom?

He doesn't want to trouble Wolfwood with this for now, though. He pulls him closer, while his own body slips forward. Their foreheads press together, even if Vash does wince at how warm his partner seems to feel comparatively.]

I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be so much trouble. [The closer he is, the more heat he saps, the more coherent his thoughts seem to feel, at least.] I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't lose you.

Vash the Stampede | Trigun Stampede (again)

the prompt for ME im sorry this got long

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gagtag

iii

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iii | shows up a week late with starbucks

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