EVENT 009

[sticksandbonesmods]

RULER OF MY HEART

HOW SWEET IT IS

As time ticks on in that strange, wobbly way it does in this place — where the nights feel like they last days, and the days feel like they’re only a few hours long — the fog, ever so gradually, rolls back in, until it’s that oppressive black wall it normally is. It means no more trips into the greater forest for the time being, though the surrounding ring of treeline around the Grove and the burned town to the north remains readily accessible.

The woods, now awake and alert, sends its regards with the occasional roar of a beast in the far distance, and the occasional biblically-accurate deer wandering into the Grove proper to nibble on grasses starting to spring up through the snow. Speaking of things springing up through the snow, there are some new trees near the riverbank, sporting perfectly normal lemons that are growing perfectly normal eyeballs. It’s fine, they’re edible, although they don’t seem to be native. Hmm.

All is peaceful thus far, until you open your dresser drawer. Suddenly, a little  creature flies out at you, or cries out angrily because you woke it up. Perhaps, that creature climbs on you instead, shuffling into your pocket to snuggle up. Or, maybe you lay down for a nap, and your pillow feels just a touch lumpier than normal, and when you move your head, something squeals at you. No matter where you find them, even if they’re being a nuisance and eating your shoelaces, these creatures are harmless: they’re merely cold, and you, a Warm Thing, will now be their space heater.

I REALLY LIKE YOU

One of Ydalir’s secret passions is cooking. You would not know this, because she doesn’t have the ability to eat, but that doesn’t mean she lost the ability to cook. A holiday is coming, you see, and it’s tradition for everyone to partake in cute chocolates and have candlelit dinners! (She will not be providing the dinners, that’s on you.)

What feels like early on in the month, Ydalir will approach everybody with a box of chocolates customized for each person with their favourite flavours. For those of you who don’t eat human food, don’t worry: These are safe for consumption for vampires and robots alike.

Like with most things here, though, things are not as they seem. Eating one of these chocolates suddenly makes you feel very, very cuddly, like suddenly you wouldn’t care who you snuggled up to right now so long as you were comfortable. With the candy in your system, you feel affectionate to anyone who you come across, even if you may not have liked them previously.

As it turns out, mixing magic with cooking makes a potion. Ydalir swears up and down she didn’t mean it, but enjoy your cuddle-chocolates anyway!

LET’S STAY TOGETHER

Sometimes, when you touch another person, your mind goes elsewhere. This isn’t a result of the chocolates, but rather some other force at work. If you see two people asleep somewhere — the ground, the couch, the kitchen counter — it’s best to leave them where they are, unless you want to risk passing out with them and seeing what they see. They’ll wake up in a little while.

What those who get dragged into their own minds see depends on the person, and what lies within their heart. These “heartspaces” are made up of core memories to the participants — important locations, emotional states given form, meaningful items, or anything else, really. When in contact with another person, these heartspaces will combine into one, perfectly interactable and wanderable at your leisure. Touching objects within these spaces will play a core memory before your eyes, or even change the scenery a bit, depending on whose heart it is you’re messing with.

Perhaps now is a good time for bonding and learning about one another, in the comfort and privacy of your own minds. After all, you won’t exit the heartspaces for quite a bit.

PAIN IN MY HEART

…just try not to break anything while you're there.

It might be an accident. Maybe you walk backwards into a table containing a framed photograph, and that photo falls and the glass breaks, the picture inside the frame ruined. Maybe you broke that cheaply-made but still-important toy while fiddling with it. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t an accident at all: You broke that thing on purpose, you punched through that wall, you set that fire.

Whatever broke the thing in question doesn’t matter in the end. What matters is that the memory associated with it begins to fade away like smoke on the wind. Fixing the broken object will bring that memory back, but failing to fix it before you wake up from the dream will have that memory gone forever.

Although, there are some pretty bad memories out there… if the memory broken was terrible, or if the item in question showed someone a dark secret you didn’t want them to know… shouldn’t it stay gone?

SPARK NOTES

CLICK TO EXPAND!

HOW SWEET IT IS

The fog is back. The creatures are clinging to you because they're cold. The eyeball lemons are, uh... lemon...y. Enjoy your completely normal slice of nature.

I REALLY LIKE YOU

Ydalir has made everybody chocolates! They're delicious and induce feelings of affection and a deep need to cuddle others. Surely this won't go terribly awry. Also, she's very sorry.

LET’S STAY TOGETHER

Sometimes, touching someone else takes you to a combined mental space made up of the important things to you and the person you touched. You can touch things within the space to play memories, or explore the environment together. Outside, you're just asleep on the floor somewhere probably, so hopefully no one trips over you.

PAIN IN MY HEART

Be careful in the heartspaces. Anything you break will take a relevant memory with it. If you can find a way to repair it, the memory will come back. Although, sometimes memories need to stay gone, don't they? Maybe leaving it broken is okay?

OOC

Happy February! The mod team will not apologise for the amount of pink in this event log. If you'd like to plot with people for this event, head over to OOC plotting. We will allow you to make up various plantanimal creatures for this event, they don't have to be like the images linked as examples. Have fun, enjoy creatures, they're here to stay. Reminder this month will have Heimrquest, so if you want to sign up, please do so on the OOC plotting post.

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QUESTIONS
INVESTIGATIONS
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Comments

QUESTIONS

[sticksandbonesmods]

INVESTIGATIONS

[sticksandbonesmods]

Please use the following form for investigations:

Character(s):
Location:
Action: What are they looking for? What are they doing?

<b>Character(s):</b> <b>Location:</b> <b>Action:</b>

[sesa]

Character(s): Sesa
Location: The burned town
Action: I want Sesa to go! Exploring! On his own this time, there's some places he has yet to visit that he wants to Esplore, one of those being the burned town. He's never been so honestly he's just going to be looking around, following trails towards anything that looks suspect or interesting, etc. Do your worst mods.

[livlaughlove]

Character(s): livio
Location: school
Action: liv is taking stock of the entire school building. trying to gauge the most egregiously broken things to repair (after the roof and outer walls tbh), what areas are most useful for the town, maybe where he can put his base of operations for his supplies and checklists and such... no janitorial closet will go unopened! no file cabinet ignored! actually, shit, maybe he shouldn't have done that --

Luca Aurelius | OC | OTA

[unheiring]

i. There's no dreams, only monsters - Forest's Edge

[Being relatively new and out of touch, Luca has only heard whispers of the fog. He certainly doesn't expect the murky darkness that manifests at the treeline. It makes his stomach twist uncomfortably, while the voice in the back of his mind balks and urges caution. It isn't often that Luca and the Phoenix find themselves in agreement, and yet...

Something shrieks from deep within the woods. The feathers against Luca's neck bristle upward, while the rest of his body twists in an attempt to grab at his sword. It isn't long until he has the broadsword out, gripped tight and and ready to attack anything that might come through the fog.

Or, if you happen to startle him, he might start to swing at you, instead.]

ii. You Found me Drifted Out to Sea - The Inn

[Luca isn't much of a sweets eater. Chocolate has never tickled his fancy, preferring the taste of fruity pies and other pastries if he had to pick anything. And yet, Ydalir seems to have found the perfect blend. A bitter dark chocolate exterior, with various berry interiors.

It's late when he sneaks a bite of his own. He's seated in the inn lobby, tucked up against a communal couch. He chews on one idly, and can't help but reach for another shortly after. The couch, which had only just felt slightly stiff and lumpy beneath him, grows all the more cozy. He finds himself leaning heavily against it, then sliding down the side. Eventually, he's half-splayed out on his side, wine-colored hair a mess around him.

Anyone that passes by might be extended a hand.]

... A moment, if you will?

[The freckles on his cheeks are almost lost to the flush that's forming there.]

iii. There's No Angel in You in the End - Anywhere

[It's probably an accident that draws Luca into someone's Heart Space. Chocolates notwithstanding, he really tries to avoid most people. Thus, it's likely little more than a brush of the shoulders that draws anyone inward.

What they'll find is strangely idyllic, for a man that tries to hold himself with as much harshness and conviction as "humanly" possible. Residents of the Grove will find themselves now in the middle of a Vineyard. The sun is low in the sky and the light it emits watery — all telltale signs of an early Autumn setting. In the distance, a manor can be seen, while a man with a cane stands beside a woman with a broom.

Off to the side, a large Oak Tree can be found. The bark seems to have been long worn away by the clambering feet of climbing children. Wooden practice swords lay abandoned on the ground in front of the tree, while behind it, you might find a large stick that's now been broken into two pieces. Coming close, you might even hear the sound of snapping — though to a practiced ear, it might sound more like bone than wood.

It's only once you begin to look into the distance that the trouble behind a troubled mind reveals itself. In the distance a storm looms, thunderous and terrifying, but never drawing closer. A distant city can be seen, built into the foothills of a mountain. Said mountain towers high above, where cracks have begun to form on the surface. These bloom with what might just be magmatic light.

Luca himself stands in the middle of it all. He looks around, eyes wide and, perhaps for the first time as you've seen, vulnerable. This is familiar, though it surely begins to warp as someone else's heart begins to creep into his own.]

iv. Wildcard - Anywhere

[Have another idea? Want to do something new? DM me, or just kick something my way.]

ii pls

[simplicitas]

[Elsword (not on chocolate drugs) (this time) only came in to get tea, because apparently He Ran Out, and the kitchen has half-decent tea and he's feeling lazy about going to the store.

Except, tea is not happening, because there's a stranger holding a hand out to him, and Elsword actually looks down at himself for a second like he's debating which one to offer. Do you want the one that's black and gross and covered in white flowers, or the one that's got burn scars all over it? Instinct says he should reach out with the flower-covered right but he's not subjecting someone to that, so he twists his left wrist around and awkwardly takes Luca's hand.]

Yep.

ii

[sesa]

[Sesa...has also been eating chocolate, oh no. He's somehow wandered out of the therapy building and is now loose in the grove, he is Off The String, having made his way back to the Inn with a spring in his step. So when Luca offers him his hand...

Sesa does not hesitate. He takes his hand in his claws pretty much immediately, allowing himself to be tugged closer as he flops into a sit on whatever space of couch may be left for sitting. It may not be much, depending on how sprawled Luca is.]

What can I do for you, my dear?~

[cryopathy]

[kiera doesn't remember approaching luca. she certainly doesn't remember coming back here, but here she is, nonetheless.

the space that follows them draws the manor closer, vanishing the figures and instead blending the vineyard into the interior hallways in a surreal, watercolor sort of dreamy effect. they don't even notice, however, too fixated on the familiar tree.

for once, kiera is at a loss for words as well. it's been years since they allowed themself to come to this spot. and once they see the look on luca's face, so unlike him now, and so reminiscent of his boyhood... their jaw slackens, parting their lips. the exceptionally soft, quavering voice that they eventually find was similarly lost to time before this very moment.]

Luc?

SNUGGLE TIME BITCH

[livlaughlove]

[livio isn't too wild for sugar, either, but he would never waste food, and especially not if it was handmade by someone who cares about him, and vice versa. what he really didn't plan for was it giving him the urge to approach the next person he saw so boldly. bold for him, anyway.

he strolls right on up to the couch and takes luca's extended hand carefully in his own.]

Sure, Mr. Luca. You need somethin'?

MORE SNUGGLES BITCH

[cryopathy]

[normally, kiera wouldn't touch anything heart-shaped with a 39 and a half foot pole, but...

chocolate.

leave it to them to stuff their face, especially after they realize how similar these taste to the rosé liquor treats iggs has made for them... maybe it's the nostalgia that leads them to wander from their room soon afterward. and who should they find but someone they happen to be particularly nostalgic for...

... as much as they feel compelled to take his hand, they hesitate for a moment.]

Yes? Can I help you, Lord Aurelius?

[oleaeuropaea]

i. Sweets for my Sweethearts - Everywhere. Anywhere

[Of course Vash would go for the sweets. Anywhere he can be found, from outside in the snow, to the inn's kitchen, Vash can be found plucking a chocolate from the box and shoving it in his mouth. If he picks up that he's being watched, well... Here comes a very smiley plant!]

Hey, have you had a chance to try these?

[He holds one out with one hand, while the other pulls you in close. Younger characters will get an arm around the shoulders, but those that are older might even get an arm around the waist. Refuse, and you might even get a pout.]

C'mon, Ydalir gave them to me! You wouldn't say no to her, right?

[Vash's chocolates are, of course, overly sweet. Some are filled with nougat, or a more liquid, dark chocolate. Others still are filled with a harder, chewier caramel. Sorry if you don't like sweets, but Vash isn't going to let you get away.]

ii. A Balm for a Broken Heart - Anywhere, CWs for child medical torture and dismemberment

[Given how touchy-feely Vash has felt, it should be no surprise that somehow, he finds himself caught in a Heart Space with someone else. That doesn't keep the Independent from looking startled, perhaps even horrified, by what he sees. It's been over a century since he's stood in a space like this.

The biodome, one practically filled with geraniums, sprawls out before the residents of the grove. They almost seem to form a path toward a large tree, beneath which lays an ornate copy of the Christian Bible. As for the tree itself, you can find a very ornate copy of the Christian Bible beneath it. Putting any kind of weight on the tree will cause it to transform, giving way to a glass chamber containing the dismembered body of a child.

Occasionally, a woman with dark hair might be seen in the distance, but only out of the corner of an eye. She disappears if you try to look directly at her.

The longer you stay here, the more confused, even distraught, Vash manages to look. It only seems to grow worse as the space changes, and someone else's memories flood in.]

Wait - what are you doing? Stop!

iii. Wildcard

[DM me, or just throw something my way!!]

ii. A Balm for a Broken Heart

[amethystic]

( funny how much power names have. obedience. ownership, even. and now, even their hearts are tied to a name. and felicity is so fucking tired. she hasn't ventured into the biome, hasn't seen the tree or the child, standing instead at the rusted fence of a long-abandoned, overgrown garden. roses sprawl and choke the iron gate, weeds have overtaken whatever path lay here before, peonies and foxglove and belladonna, wisteria and lavender, tulips and daffodils, all amok like a crowd of a busy city. vines creep up the wall of an equally discarded manor, the architecture latin in some way she's not sure vash would recognize. ... they pry at an open window- open from broken glass that still has fresh blood dripping off the jagged shards.

she knows this place. she wishes she didn't. )

... I don't know. But that place is important to you, right? ...

( she wants to ask something else, but instead she simply pries open the iron gate with a creek and wanders to let the flowers claim her. )

i.

[succiduous]

[What is with all of you lately wanting to CUDDLE HIM he's MARRIED he's a MARRIED MAN ugh god get off of him—

Gnosis tries to wiggle out of Vash's grip, likely to no avail because there's now chocolate being pressed to his face.]

I have not tried them yet— [why are you like this] —it's kind of you to offer up your own, but I'm a touch busy at the moment.

[don't let him get away Vash make him eat the chocolate]

ii

[lupusxylem]

[He...remembers this place.

Or. He remembers seeing a version similar to this one, but different at the same time. The biodome that Luida led Meryl and Roberto into was a spectacle all on its own, one that Wolfwood hadn't actually entered himself. He'd seen it from a distance, but something kept him from going into it himself. Seeing all of that plant life for the first time had been a little more than overwhelming, so he chose to keep his distance.

Not possible, here.

Wolfwood ends up at the tree before he even realizes Vash is here with him. He sort of wanders towards it, as if drawn, very nearly stepping on the book by accident. He doesn't move to pick it up though, not when he knows what it is. His gaze slides up the massive tree towering over him, and...maybe he should have learned his lesson about touching trees. He reaches out, his fingers tentatively brushing the bark, as if to see if it's real.

The booming church bells of Hopeland suddenly ring out as the tree becomes a glass chamber, and he startles backwards so quickly he nearly falls over. That's about the same time Vash shouts at him, causing him to whip around as their spaces begin to bleed, becoming irrevocably intertwined. Given they're from the same world, they...fit together almost too well.]

Vash, what the fuck is this?

ii :)

[twisttheknives]

[Nai's core memories are what one might call "a goddamn fucking mess". Parts of the biodome become the patchy, broken remains of shipwrecks containing dying Plants, awkwardly overlapped with the vivid reds and greens like a shitty photoshop job. For as much as they start to gradually overtake the space, they stop at the halfway point, something of an even split. On one half, death and reminders of all the things humans have done to them. On the other, life and the security of knowing someone out there loved them completely.

Underneath the tree when Nai blinks next is a piano. Of course there's a piano; that is, of everything that just crept in, one of the more important memories he has. One he clings to with a certain desperation. A time long gone, yet...]

Do you think I'm controlling this somehow?

[Stop what, the dying Plants behind him? Yeah, he'd love to, but this space has a mind of its own.]

[sesa]

A) My love is sick | Lab | OTA

[Early in the morning, one visiting the lab may find Sesa hard at work at one of the benches. Where is his breakfast? Probably hasn't had any, Vouivre can go months without food you know, so instead he just has a cup of coffee to keep him company as he works. Well. It's more accurate to say "as he struggles".

He's sitting on a stool with his usual jacket and weird headdress thing stripped off, just an undershirt on and nothing else despite the cold, which might be strange considering how much he's been complaining about it as of late. When he's working though, he tends to overheat if he keeps all of his stupid clothing on, so you're getting treated to the gunshow, congrats! He's not paying attention to anyone coming in though, because he's clearly not having much progress with what he's trying to do.

Ancient tools are being used to try to fashion something with metal on the desktop, work that is very fiddly and delicate and requires a lot of heat, but it's clearly not enough with the rudimentary tools at his disposal. Just now, he's trying to bend a little metal chunk with a pair of pliers, very carefully heating it, bending it, heating it...

...if you're approaching, you may want to duck, because all of a sudden the metal slips from between the plier's grip and pings through the air, hitting the far wall. He curses as he sits back and pulls his claws through his hair, slightly slick with sweat from the effort that has now mostly been wasted.]

Sorry...did you need something?

[He looks up at you, and there is a tiny pair of eyes settled somewhere atop Sesa's head. He doesn't seem to notice, but it's...staring at you. And also the walls, at the same time.

There is a leaf-tailed gecko stuck to one of his horns.

O^O]

B) It's messy and wrong | Therapy Building | OTA

[Having given up on his project for now, Sesa has retired to the Therapy Building with a little box of chocolates in tow, courtesy of Ydalir herself. He of course isn't going to turn down a gift, even if he isn't one for sweets himself. He enjoys tea with a bit of sugar and coffee, a bit sweet but mostly bitter. Imagine his delight when, upon popping the first sweet into his mouth, he found it to not only be dark chocolate, but spicy, molded with bits of red pepper flakes to taste. And what better way to enjoy it than curled up with the new item he'd received?

Carefully placed in the center of the floor is a large kotatsu, a wooden table with a thick blanket coming out from all sides of it. It seems as if the table itself is built to accomodate it, low enough to the floor that you can sit and be underneath the cover. It's nice and toasty underneath, with Sesa as happy as a clam sitting on a pillow on the side across from the TV he's currently playing puyo puyo on. His tail thumps happily against the soft cushions, seeming to be in a genuinely good mood despite how the morning had gone. The box has already had three chocolates devoured.

If he notices you approach, he'll turn to look up, flashing a toothy grin and immediately scooting a bit to the side to make room.]

Come my friend, join me! You don't have to play unless you want to, but I certainly would enjoy the company. Would you like some chocolate?

C) But I pray for a bit of contagion | Anywhere | OTA

[The heart is a place he doesn't want anyone to see. Look to deep into what's there, and they'll find that he's not everything he makes himself out to be.

The deserts of sargon are harsh, and unforgiving. The sand whips your face, the sun reflects off the dunes and blinds you as you walk forwards into a sea that feels endless. It's as if the environment is on loop, bringing you through the same desloate wasteland over and over again. Or, perhaps, it's merely that big?

At least, until the sand gives way to a tiled floor, though it's never fully clean. A pile of sand here, a smear of ash there. A laboratory partially destroyed on the inside, parts and machinery in piles all around that smolder and burn.

That's right. The room is on fire, isn't it? Yet, the fire doesn't burn you, no matter how close you get or even if you stand in an open flame. It's just there, oppressive and constant. There seems to be no one here.

Yet, you can hear people. The bustle of a marketplace, of sellers hawking their wares. People shouting across an invisible street at each other, busy noise, a cacophany of village life. But you can't see it. You can only hear it, muffled through the cracking walls.

Occasionally, the indistinct chatter gives way to a blood curdling scream. Someone begging to be saved. Another, begging for death. Then, a voice, like a whisper right in your ear.

How far are you willing to go?]

D) Wildcard

[Hit me up if these prompts don't work!]

A) i'm sorry-

[forwander]

[Honestly, Passenger came in here to ask Gnosis if he could borrow a hammer — gotta build machines after all, can't do that without a hammer — and he was not expecting the fucking gun show.

He dodges that stray scrap by a mere brush of a feather, though calling his reaction "alert" or maybe "panicked because something flew at his head" is an understatement. It's literally a simple head-tilt dodge, no big deal, nearly died but that ain't his problem.]

Ya lah min manzarin. [Objectifies you objectifies you objectifies you, yes he Is smirking thank you for asking.] Did I need something...? No, not anymore. I'm content to take a seat and watch for the time being.

[...gecko is acknowledged, but Passenger is more interested in pulling up a seat and watching the sweat trickle down Sesa's scales instead, I'm sorry he's like this]

Passenger | Arknights | OTA

[forwander]

I. My, my, those eyes like fire

[Birds do not respond well to cuddle-chocolates. Or maybe it's just Passenger in particular. He is wholly unemotional ninety percent of the time, and he's still completely unemotional even as he wanders up to you and drapes himself over you. If you're standing, it'll be his arms up over your shoulders, with Passenger pressed against your back — especially if he's taller than you, since he stands at over six feet. If you're sitting, he's simply laying his head in your lap and...

...taking a nap? Passenger what the fuck—

It is quiet time. Small voice, small baby pigeon, thank you.]

II. I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
a)

[Passenger's heart lies in Sargon. It always has, even if he may deny it, even if he will claim that a wanderer like him has no true home anymore. That is the place you're sucked into with him: A market, bright and sunny and furiously hot if you're ill-equipped for the weather. It's bustling, but no words reach your ears, even though lips move and coin is exchanged. Silent, despite what otherwise should be loud.

Off to the side stands a semi-familiar figure who Passenger regards without much fanfare, a younger version of himself standing between a scholarly-looking man and an ancient soothsayer. The two, and young Passenger himself, look cheerful. Happy, almost, as the scholar silently explains something to the child and the soothsayer presumably prattles on about some fortune. And, some hundred feet ahead of them, is some foreign merchant harking wares to anyone who will listen. If you're there long enough, you'll hear the voices of those three as though they aren't merely set pieces for the memories Passenger has.

As you walk forward with Passenger, the younger version of himself joins you, speaking openly about the area of Sargon you're in — Ibut, it's called — while the older version trails along silently. For the time being, anyway.]

b) cw: fires & fire-related deaths

[When the night falls, Ibut goes up in flames.

Even should these fires overlap with your own space, they don't do any damage to anything — but the flames lick at the walls, the pathways, and anything else within reach anyway, trying to burn something that won't catch. In the distance are screams, the agony of those that burned to death the night the fires were set and Ibut's black market burned to the ground. Passenger yet again is unaffected by any of this, though careful observers will see his brow scrunch momentarily.

Little Elliot, on the other hand, looks distinctly horrified. He tugs on your sleeve to get your attention, and should you crouch down so he can whisper to you, he says:]

I don't want to become like him.

[And he points directly to the man who set the fires currently raging, Passenger himself, whose only response is further silence.]

III. Wildcard

[hello pls throw things at bird thank u]

I :)

[lupusxylem]

[Here Wolfwood is, minding his own Damn Business sitting on the inn couch, not yet affected by the chocolates thank you...and Passenger is just.

???

His head is in his lap??? Hello??]

...what do you think you're doin'?

[lupusxylem]

A) You're asking me will my love grow | The Church | OTA

[It's hard not to notice that the Fog is finally back in all of its oppressive glory. You can see it from the house. From the middle of the Grove. From the Church. It makes Wolfwood angry to see it, a now more permanent reminder of how trapped here all of them are. Not that it's much different from home, he just had more "freedom" to wander the planet, then. He's every bit as cornered, like a mouse caught beneath a lion's paw.

He's back at the Church today, finishing up the last arduous work he has to do to get it...marginally clean. Sweeping snow away from the front door is a morning routine, but at least now all of the vines have been removed. The broken windows repaired themselves (okay), and now it's just...a normal place of worship. Delapidated, but normal.

It's not like he spends every waking moment here. In fact, lately he's just here for a few minutes each morning. If you actually want to find Wolfwood, you won't usually find him here. It's not a haunt, or anything. He does come to pray, though, every so-]

OUT! GET OUT-!

[The front doors to the church explode open, and all manner of creature comes rushing out. Little mice, squirrels, birds from the rafters...all of them are in varying flavors of Plant, and Wolfwood is chasing them out by- what else- stomping and yelling like a caveman.

Now, he doesn't hate animals. Far from it- he has Angelina- but the floor...the fucking floor is covered in presents from his Guests.

Obviously, after he's been cleaning it for weeks, he's not impressed.

Even worse, the pigeons- which are sort of sweeping in a wide circle above the building- just kindof...fly back in through a hole in the roof and settle back up in the rafters again. They live here now.]

B) I don't know, I don't know | The Inn | OTA

[Chocolates, huh. He never expected Ydalir to be the type to cook with booze, but he isn't going to complain.

He's been snacking on the chocolates ever since he got them. They're boozy bon bons, flavored with some kind of nice tasting liquor. It gives them a little bite on the edge of a semi-sweet exterior and honestly it feels like they're really too good to be eating...yet here he is, eating them.

Wolfwood is in the Inn presently, sitting on one side of the couch with his knees apart, his arms on the back of it and his head angled up towards the ceiling. In contrast to earlier, and...most of the last two months, actually, he feels...weirdly good? Kinda mellow...and people going in and out of the room don't seem to be bothering him at all. In fact, if he notices you walk past, he'll gesture with a nod of his head to the seat beside him.]

C'mon. S'plenty of room.

[He feels warm, like he's been drinking. He's not drunk though, there's nowhere near enough liquor in the chocolate for that.]

C) You stick around, now it may show | Anywhere | OTA CW: Medical child abuse/torture

[However you and Wolfwood come into contact, you may soon find yourself wishing you hadn't.

Wolfwood hasn't had a good life. In fact, most of the short years he's lived have been awful, but there is one place that he still considers to be sacred. It's the one place in all of No Man's Land that he would wholeheartedly call his home, even to this day.

Hopeland. The building seems massive as it looms before you, or maybe it's because it merely seems large, as if you're looking up at it with the perspective of a child. It encompasses a large courtyard with children at play, chasing each other or tossing a ball, all under the watchful eye of faceless caretakers, save for a more heavyset woman with a kerchef tying her hair back. She's the only truly distinct person here, and she looks at you with the utmost fondness in her eyes. Yet, you get the sense she could be quite stern, if you talked back to her...

There are little pens in the back holding bright blue chicks that peep and jump at you when they notice you walk past. There's a bucket full of feed nearby, should you be so inclined to stop and toss them a few handfuls.

It's simple. It's home. But the interior isn't like that at all.

Inside is a completely different world, of sterile lights and slick tile floors. It feels oppressive, like there are eyes watching your every move. You may not want to be in here for too long, though if your curiosity gets the better of you, you may just end up wandering the strange narrow hallways anyway...eventually coming upon a room sectioned off by a massive wall of glass.

There is a table shaped like a cross in the center of the room, with restraints binding a child to its surface. Hooked up to all manner of devices that seem to both be monitoring his condition, as well as occasionally administering strange concoctions through IV. In those moments, he convulses. Pain wracks his body, yet never once does he scream. He merely gasps audibly like a fish out of water, occasionally mumbling something indistinct.

When you blink, the child becomes a man. Large enough now to fill out the entire cross, the entire surface of the table slick with blood. He lays there staring wide eyed at the ceiling, dark hair matted to his forehead, stubbled chin trembling with each breath.

Blink again, and the child has returned, and the blood has been swept away.

Back and forth in time the memory seems to violently flicker, and when you turn to leave, you'll find the windows all barred off.

You're in a cell, trapped just like he is. Perhapas the moment a new heart meshes with this one, an exit will appear.]

D) Wildcard

[DM me if these prompts don't work for you!]

A

[unheiring]

[Maybe Luca shouldn't laugh at poor Wolfwood, but he can't help himself. Though he's initially startled by the sound of the doors being thrown open, the ensuing tantrum that follows, alongside the veritable swarms of animals that pile out, makes for one hell of a show. Already, Luca finds himself muffling his laughter with a hand. It very nearly turns into an outright chuckle, however, as the pigeons find their way back inside once more.]

Good morning, Saint. [A smirk still lingers as Luca approaches.] It seems your latest sermon was a success?

[simplicitas]

I. Heaven is a place like this

[Elsword is in his barbecue dad era, except he is still just-barely-nineteen and has approximately zero fatherly qualities, so maybe it's more like barbecue... brother era... rolls off the tongue less, don't it. Anyway, he is wearing stupid shorts that are almost conducive to being a barbecue dad, if your barbecue dad is a known slut anyway. That and a T-shirt.

As you walk by his house, he points to where he's built a smokehouse in his yard, close to those horrible lemon trees, which he has a full wicker basket of just sitting out there as if he's going to eat one of them. If you don't pay attention, he's going to wave you over, and if you ignore that you're getting run down with a plate full of smoked brisket.]

Hi. Do you want lunch? I've been smoking meat all... since yesterday.

[For what it's worth, the meat smells good. But why the hell is he in shorts there's snow on the ground—]

II. An assembly of broken things

[The funny thing about cuddle-chocolates is that Elsword is, by default, the cuddliest person here bar Mizuki, probably; he will regularly sit too close to people, hug them, be touchy in general, and try to take naps with people. This is just how he lives his life.

Cuddle chocolates make this ten times worse. If you're bigger than he is (not hard, he's 5'5"), he's in your lap, head on your shoulder, half-asleep. If you're smaller or near the same size, he's pulling you into an embrace with his wings and dragging you off to the nearest couch and/or bed (be it at the inn or his house) and curling up that way, like a cat. Spooning? Hell yeah we're spooning. No reservations, get over here, let's cuddle.

The angel can optionally be removed from your lap, but he'll nestle up into your side instead, getting underneath your arm. Safe. Warm. He's like a dog, he needs affection and love or he'll Literally Die right now.]

III. Never heard an angel sing

[Elsword's heart is a broken, sad thing.

Where other people have memories of fun and happy times, or sad and melancholy ones, Elsword has blank voids. The house he walks through is, presumably, supposed to be his childhood home — but he hasn't been back here since he was thirteen, long before time and the El washed away his memories. There are photo frames on the walls, and the faces within them are scratched out save for all but three — Add, Chung, and his sister Elesis. The first two because they were around recently enough for him to recall them, and the third because he knows the moment he forgets his sister's face that it's over for him. The others, though, Elsword realises with a jolt that he can't remember their faces, only their names, only distant facts about them, and he tries not to let the upset show on his face.

Patches of the house are completely inaccessible. There are holes in the walls, floors, and ceilings giving way to patches of some vivid blue void, one that Elsword advises you not to walk into. Some of those holes are so large that there's no way to leap across them, an ocean between this hallway and the next.

It's stifling. Suffocating. Sometimes, a set of distant voices call his name, muffled like trying to talk underwater. Sometimes, a much louder voice, sounding holy and feminine and pure, calls him "Her champion" and "the El's Guardian".]

I don't want to be here, [Elsword mutters,] can we go see what yours looks like instead?

[It's possible that yours is already fused with his in some way, and that he doesn't understand that, but it's worth a shot. Right? Surely in this maze of blue void and a house he barely recalls and portraits that'll follow after him, there's a way out.]

IV. wildcard

[i would apologise for my son but i don't want to]

III

[lupusxylem]

[Wolfwood doesn't need to know where he is to know that he hates it. It's so oppressive that it feels like this place is meant to suffocate him just as much as it is Elsword. He has no interest in exploring the house, no need to delve further.

But how else are they supposed to leave, then?

By following the bells, of course. The sound of church bells that are not related to Elsword's heart- at least not physically in this moment- but Wolfwood. He'd recognize their chime anywhere.

Without thinking, he reaches over and grabs Elsword by the hand.]

C'mon. This way.

[livlaughlove]

1.0 WE DREAMED OUT OF WINDOWS
[this could go one of two ways: livio knows you, is comfortable around you, and / or he's feeling secure for one reason or another. the other way, well... let's assume for now that this is the case.

here in the warm parts of his heart he finds himself in an old building that might as well be held together by duct tape and sheer willpower. uneven floorboards and cracks in the walls appear "babyproofed" by rugs and hastily installed panels.

despite the structural disrepair, it's clean, the natural light is pleasant, and the chatter and laughter of children echoes through the halls. any windows or open doors look out over the top of the rocky mesa and the sand sea below the far edges.

if you're here, and you haven't seen livio cry yet... congratulations! now you get to. and if you have, hey, it's pretty par for the course.]


1.1 THEN WE GREW SHIELDS // trigun spoilers // CW: child soldier stuff, child abuse, ableism. potentially: violence, memory loss.
[... as for the aforementioned other way...

maybe livio heard one of the beasts recently. maybe somehow he didn't notice your approach. maybe he's just feeling off. whatever the cause, he recognizes that he's losing consciousness as it happens, and he tenses as he falls.

the heartspace here is dark. it's shifting, blurrily transitioning from a "modern" kitchen partially covered in blood splatter, to endless sands reddish in the setting of the suns, to a meeting room of sorts with a long rectangular table. there's a familiar leather pouch sitting on the edge of a pool of blood. at the far end of the setup, there is a single steel chair with sturdy straps attached around it, and laid across the seat is a human muzzle that looks straight out of a cannibal movie.

livio, or the "livio" that might have been glimpsed in his mirror last month, is very unhappy to be here, staring with wide eyes. his every last muscle tenses and trembles with the urge to – do what, exactly? run? fight?

maybe he'll decide when he realizes that you're in here with him.]

⸸⸸

2.0 AND WALLS ARE ALL WE SEEK
[for the time being, shenanigans aside, livio, with his now long hair tied back, can be found making treks to and from the school. the sounds of broken and rotten boards being pulled up and new ones hammered in their place echo across the river and through the strip of trees leading to town. he may be neglecting his social life, but at least he's pulling this place back together, if slowly.

there's a little plantimal friend keeping him company, too. though it would be nice if the firry green critter with a long purpley pinecone tail wouldn't bat his nails around or lay on objects he's trying to move...]

C'mon, now. Don't you have a treehouse to go back to or somethin'?

[in the woods, no one can hear you twang.]

⸸⸸

3.0 WILDCARD
just throw something at me or plot with me! [plotting meme] / PM / fuckweasel

1

[oleaeuropaea]

[Vash has only ever seen Hopeland from the outside, towering atop a distant hill. At the time, he hadn't really been able to focus on it, at least not beyond the fact that it was getting closer and dangerously closer with every second. Now that he's here — and he knows that it's Hopeland given Livio's very presence — it all makes sense. Nowhere in No Man's Land was particularly well-kempt. The haphazardly childproofed surroundings just made sense.

(Does he pick up on the subtle differences? The little details that separate their respective worlds? Not really.)

Eventually Vash's attention drifts away from the surroundings, though, and settles on the man himself. He offers a gentle smile, trying to offer assurance even as he steps closer.]

Hey, Livio... It's okay.

[He doesn't see that with each step, grass begins to form beneath his feet. Nor does he seem to notice the way one of the walls begins to dissolve into the trunk of a tree.]

It... must be pretty weird, bein' home, right?

[succiduous]

I. Ain't it warming you, the world going up in flames?

[Gnosis is very much avoiding everybody. If you know him already, you probably think "oh yeah, this happens, he's like that when he's working", but it's worse than that this time. The man does not handle loss well at all, and if his ominous "I'm looking for missing people" notebook message last month is anything to go by...

Let's just say, the less he interacts with people, the better, because at least then when people go missing he won't be able to say they were friends. Less emotional that way.

Very rarely will he pop outside of the lab to like, get sunshine. Sometimes he's in the greenhouse setting up a vegetable garden. Sometimes he's taking soil samples outside the lab doors like a weirdo. Sometimes he is accompanied by a small baby snow leopard who prefers to spend her time in a bag and not, you know, doing anything productive with her little life, and random other plantanimals will sometimes latch onto him while he's out.

...mostly, though, he is Indoors. Someone might want to kidnap him if he's not outside the lab next time they think of him. Who knows, he might be dead in there (he's not there are two other people he lives with but still).]

II. Ain't it the life of you, your lighting of the blaze?

[Gnosis has a bottle of dwarven ale in one hand (leftover from when Caoimhe was here, too strong for him to drink in one sitting the last time he decided to fuckin party) (the rest is also possibly too strong for him to finish solo), a box of chocolates in the other that he's been slowly working through, and he's draped across the inn room couch like he owns the entire place.

If you pass by, you get a drunken wave and a "come here" motion, which means come snuggle him he's both drunk and drugged. If you're already here... he'll be nice and sort of swing his legs up and out of the way so you can sit down, only to put them in your lap and his heels on the opposite arm rest. Again, like he owns the place. "Hey Gnosis how's your mental health doing" it's atrocious thank you for asking.

He holds the bottle out by the neck to you.]

Want some?

[do NOT drink this it's like drinking bleach in terms of how much it burns going down]

III. Ain't it a waste they'd watch the throwing of the shade?

[Gnosis, apparently, never tires of snow. The area his heart reflects is similarly snowy and cold, and that means no one he's in this space with can have a break as well. If his space has overlapped with yours at all, it'll randomly start fucking snowing, and the snow won't let up. In a building? Yeah it's snowing. The desert? Wow suddenly it's snowing. Amazing how this all works.

But, if you're mostly in Gnosis' space, and it hasn't truly overlapped with yours yet... sometimes, in the mind-palace streets of Kjerag, there are oddities abound. Train tracks that clearly exploded at some point, if the way the rails are bent and burnt are any indication. A high-tech lab that shouldn't belong to a place so old-timey. A chapel, with high stained-glass windows and empty pews, standing perfectly in the middle of a road where it wasn't there before. Hedges and flowers surrounding it, colourful and bright against the dreary whites and greys of Kjerag. These parts, Gnosis recognizes as Victoria. They've blended together almost seamlessly (and maybe, if your space overlaps with his while he's standing in the Victorian parts, it won't start fucking snowing).

This chapel, he recognizes. It's the one he got married in. Oh...]

...let's go this way.

[We are not going to the wedding chapel we are not going to see this unless he is physically dragged in there and/or you are his husband—]

IV. Wildcard

[come at me bro]

III.

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[ Perhaps anyone else might see the snowfields of Kjerag and think that Gnosis' own heartscape is telling them that Gnosis is truly coldhearted. But Enciodes is not just anyone, and there's a familiarity to the rushing winds and the frigid air. It's a lot more inviting than the winter has been here, actually. If he closes his eyes, he can almost hear the wings of hawks flapping, the whispers of the breeze through the open mountains — some would say the voice of Kjeragandr.

But he doesn't close his eyes. Rather, he is staring at the cathedral directly. Sorry, Gnosis, did you think he wouldn't be grabbing your hand and heading for the towering building? Haha. No. He reaches out to take Gnosis hand and pull him toward the cathedral without even so much as a word as he pushes open the doors, actually. He doesn't know what kind of weird magic this is this time around, but certainly there isn't anything that would try to ruin a place as important and special to the both of them, right?

…Optimistic, probably, but he wants to make sure it's perfect, and that there's nothing that's going to taint this place for them. ]

[purevanillacookie]

a) the sweet tooth downfall - anywhere
[Having lived his entire life eating sweets, there's no way Pure Vanilla is turning down some free chocolate. And being new, he hasn't seen the alert to simply not eat them. Besides, it would be incredibly rude to turn down something so generously offered.

And at first, he doesn't notice the effects. They blend so well with his natural affection towards everything, that he simply is unaware anything has happened. Until the urge to cuddle, something he's only felt towards a select few Cookies, begins to overpower his senses. Wouldn't it be nice, to simply find someone to lean against, to share warmth and companionship? A shoulder to lean on, an hand to hold.

Of course, it's incredibly rude to simply walk up to someone and hug them, so he's going to do his darned best to ignore the desire.

But you may catch his staff staring at you, while he resolutely keeps his head turned away, trying to busy himself with other things.]

b) hearts entwined - anywhere
1.
[One way or another, you've found yourself tangled up with Pure Vanilla's heart. Perhaps you're lucky, and you find yourself in a greenhouse filled wall to glass wall with white lilies. There's a small gazebo situated at the fair end of the stone walkway, with books and platters filled with sweets laid out, pillows providing cushioning. The scent of lilies is strong, and would be overpowering if not influenced by Pure Vanilla's love for the scent. Pale glowing butterflies fluttering about, alighting on the lilies from time to time.

It's peaceful and quiet, and Pure Vanilla - exactly as he would look if he was his Cookie-self - sits with an equally peaceful look on his face in the gazebo, his staff laid to the side as he sips some tea. He will look mildly surprised when his staff alerts him to his visitor, and he tilts his head a little as he lowers his tea.

Surprised or not, he's unfailingly polite as he greets his visitor, his voice a little bemused.]

Hello, my friend. I was not expecting company. Are you lost?

2.
[Or perhaps you're unlucky, and you find yourself in a dark, freezing void. There is a strange sinister feeling as you float along. The sensation of being watched. Judged. Seen more thoroughly than you may like. Like your very self is being laid out and picked over. The only thing you can see is Pure Vanilla, distress writ plain on his Cookie face as he bobs along beside you.]

We should not be here.

[His voice is just as distressed as his expression. Try as you might, there's no moving anywhere on your own power. The Void simply drifts you along as if caught in a current. If Pure Vanilla is surprised someone else is trapped in his souls abyss, he doesn't show it. Or perhaps he can't, with how deep his distress runs. Instead his expression twists a little, worry joining the distress.]

Whatever you may hear, do not trust it.

c) wildcard

[Got something you wanna play out with PV other than the above? Throw it at me, let's go.]

A) pls time 4 hug

[simplicitas]

[Don't look now, mysterious staff eye, there's a boy with a halo who's literally growing flowers out of his right half. "Is he okay" let's burn that bridge when we get to it, the important part is he's staring at the eye staff which is staring at him.

Neat.]

Does your staff see me? Or is it a decoration?

[He's going to shuffle side to side to see if the eye follows him.]

Brook | I'm the Grim Reaper

[reaperbunny]

[ So, you touched the grumpy kid who intentionally avoids people? Wow. Good job, buddy. Even if it was unintentional, or his fault even, he's still going to blame you and shove you away instantly, even if you still end up in the heartscape with him. He's seething, looking at everywhere but at you, before he spins around and walks away in somewhat of a fit. Considering he's pretty flat and emotionless like 90% of the time, it's good to see him, like, properly get mad? Maybe?

Brook is immediately going to start to look for a way out, and you'll be able to actually have a good look around. Brook's heartscape is just a collection of streams or… brooks, if you will. Everything beyond them is a pale forest, and in the trees seem to lie his memories. You'll see a familiar head scarf — the bunny ears, a pet collar, a soup pot, and a broken ceramic plate.

You could probably grab one of them… Brook isn't paying much mind, after all. ]

A. The Pink Scarf cw: death, strangulation

[ Suddenly, you are in a mansion. You're holding a feather duster, and seem to be in a maid's dress of some kind, while in the second story of some kind of very fancy mansion. Beside you is Brook himself! He's all dressed up in a suit with silly shoulder tassels and no bunny ears to be seen. To say he doesn't seem bitter and jaded with the world might be an understatement, though. The opposite, as he doesn't seem excited about today, even if it is important. It's his 18th birthday, after all.

The door opens, and a young woman a good few years older than Brook comes in, with the same light blonde hair as him. His sister, you can probably assume. In her hands is the familiar pink scarf. ]

Hi there, brother. It's your big day, isn't it?

[ Brook turns to address her, standing upright. ] It is. I must thank you for taking care of the family business for the past eight years.

It's not too late to forfeit leadership back to me, you know. [ That smile she wears… surely she knows it doesn't seem even a little genuine? ]

…I'll do my best to carry on the work of both you and our father. Thanks.

[ She continues to force that smile and steps forward. The pink scarf — a sash, you figure out now, for his honor within the business — is presented in front of him.

But she doesn't don it on him. Rather, she wraps it around his neck and begins to strangle Brook. In a panic, he coughs, and tries to pull back, but she manages to shove the scrawny newly-turned adult to the ground. He tries to speak, to say anything, but all he can do is hopelessly reach out for you to help.

Whoever this maid you are was, you can tell she had no intention of helping. What do you do? ]

B. The Pet Collar cw: animal death

[ Brook is young — no older than 8 or 9 now. In his arms is a small white rabbit. He loves this rabbit — it was a gift from his late mother. You're not sure why you know this. Perhaps because you seem to find yourself in servant attire? A teacher, you think. Perhaps, more specifically, the closest thing he has to a motherly figure he's had since his actual mom died? Hard to say for sure.

He comes back inside one morning, holding the collar. There's tears in his eyes. A rare occurrence — since when does the young master cry?? Furthermore… why are his hands red? ]

C. The Soup Pot

[ — Unless you go for this, then Brook is suddenly on high alert. If you so much as think about walking towards it, he uses his bunny-like jump to get over to it first and take it from the branches, chucking it as hard as he can to go into the river. Afterwards, he looks at you. ]

Don't fucking touch other people's shit, yeah??

D. The Broken Ceramic Plate

[ Welcome to Hell! It's hot. It's red. There's the smell of sulfur and shame. You're here now! Brook is somewhere off to the side! Satan's here, too! At least, the black wings and goat feet proooobably mean that's Actual Satan right here. Neat. Cool. Can you go home— ]

Aww, baby's first sinner!! You did so good for me, Alex~.

Brook.

Yeah, whatever. Welcome to your new home for all eternity, sinner! Are you ready to burn for centuries for all those meals you took from your boss?

W-…wait, what? What are you talking about. She- she's a sinner, so surely that means—

Oh, what, did you want something more extravagant for your first time? Fuck, Brook, it's not like I made you pick this one. Come on.

No! Just— she stole food? That's it? That's why she had a mark?!

[ Oh, he seems panicked. You could probably speak up, or… keep to yourself? ]

waddles in several days late; a

[amethystic]

( in her defense, she didn't just waltz right up to him with a pat on the back- it was more like a gentle bump as they passed in the halls. but it's a bit too late to think of that, as more carelessness has lead to awakening a memory. ... did she take someone's place in it? that seems new. but she doesn't act out of sort beyond checking if she's still down an arm, just in case.

... brook's always been a more stoic sort, hasn't he? but it's weird seeing him without that bitterness. he looks nice though- even if the ostentatiousness of it all (shoulder tassels, really?) is a bit silly. it doesn't suit him, she thinks.

and then the sister comes in and felicity wonders if she really should be having the conversation with a witness (herself). and then it fucking escalates to attempting murder. was the maid in on it? or did sister dearest just think that little of 'the help'?

regardless, felicity isn't in on it. what will she do?

easy.

introduce her fist to the other woman's face, with all the force of the mma fighter that she i. )

How dare you.