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sticksandbones2023-06-11 04:08 pm
TDM 002
Good morning, stranger. No matter what was happening within the last few minutes of your life, it's not happening anymore. All you recall about the transition from there to this sleepy, abandoned grove in the middle of the foggy woods is a collective of childish voices whispering in your mind, Do you want to play with me? And it did not care what the answer was. The manor, ever inaccessible, has not a single light within the windows, but the general store and the inn both seem to have some life- you may just miss the child watching through the manor attic as you approach the other locations.
Also notable is what looks to be a street stall manned by a shadow cloaked in red and a giant turtle. The warm glow of lights and the sourceless jovial music is also inviting. The woman herself, however, can only stare with her eye-lights a gray shade that seems unfitting. Even when she shakes off her dismay, there's something shaky in her voice as she speaks later.
Though there's an abundance of flowers, something about them seems wrong. Maybe it's the fact that some of them are the size of sports balls. Or the roots are starting to emerge through the dirt, sprawling across the grove's floor like a mess of cords. Or maybe it's the fact that the red dog keeps snarling and trying to dig through them. When you investigate, some of the flowers have leaves and petals sharp as knives. They do not grab you... yet. Do be careful, because they will if you let your guard down.
The entire place is strange and odd. But you are not alone. Be it those beside you, freshly awakened, or the residents already here. Welcome to Aldric's Grove.
At some point, the grove is more... open. With how closed in the clearing is, with it's dreary cloudy sky and the fog all around, it always felt small. But now? Now it's... strange. It's open. And perhaps that is when you realize, you can enter the woods. It's letting you in perhaps more than one might expect, but ultimately there is still no escape. But as you venture forth, some of the trees, you note, are oddly shaped. The trunk twists or warps into uneven lumps, or maybe a branch looks more like an arm than it should. And then you find them.
Someone you know, warped and wooden, leaves growing from them like any normal tree. Were they fighting? Were they fleeing? Did they freeze in surprise? All you can tell is that no one escaped. But why are they here? Where did they come from? Press your ear against their chest and you can hear the flow of water. Or... maybe it's... no, no, it must be water. Do you dare try and cut through the bark? Try and uproot the tree? And now that you see the faces, it feels like every single tree in the area is looking right at you. Watching.
Waiting.
Something in the air giggles.
While the forest invites you to see the horrors of the forest, a more clear cut path through the fog also extends it's invitation. The narrow path through the fog may be easier than open air, now that you know what lies beyond. Eventually the fog dissipates and leaves you in a one-tree forest; every tree is the same species and, though it may not be true, feels as if they're exactly the same. Same height. Same width. Same space apart, from all angles. Even as the fog surrounds you, it feels like an endless pattern of wood, and you are the outlier. At least you are not alone.
The only other thing breaking the pattern is a gray, whispy figure made of smoke sitting at a raw log table, a deck of cards before it. The smoke breaks to offer a grin with too many teeth, and it gestures to the cards.
Round of cards? You pick the game. Win, and I'll give you something nice.
... At least there's no moosetaur ready to break your neck at a moment's notice this time, at least, but if you do cheat a hail of acorns and other tree nuts falls upon you. Hard. Bruisingly so, even. The figure does not stop smiling all the while. You can challenge the figure to any card game played with a standard deck of cards alone, or with up to two other players- so one to three players against the smoke total. Refusal to play is met with an easy smile... but the three-day loss of one of your senses.
Several weeks ago- ... or... was it days? Time is strange here, foggy and unclear- there was a ruckus at the river. And then it had closed, cutting the survivors off from their main source of food. Now, the path to the river is open and upon entry, it's much different. The thorns and giant brambles are gone, the open space unblocked by the fog is wider, and a larger abundance of fish can be seen, none recognizable... except. Huh. That sure is a holographic turtle. And golden fish that glow like the sun...
The water is cold and clear. The riverbanks are full of flowers and clovers. Scales and bones and medalions still wash up on the shore or can be fished out from between the cracks, but the teeth seem to be gone at least. Compared to the watchful, hateful, despairing air of the forest, the river is welcoming. Above the water, it feels like there's not a cloud in the sky. Nothing can reach you here.
Growing around the river is also some fruit trees- apples, primarily. If you take one, it's the brightest red you've ever seen on a fruit, and should you bite into it, it's perhaps the most delicious thing you've had in a long while. Idly, there is a soft voice flowing through the water and the air, gentle enough to go unnoticed.
thank you.
CLICK TO EXPAND!
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( as she approaches, she finds herself pulling, ever so slightly, on the metaphorical jar of luck. not a lot, lest something blow up the river again later, but- just... enough for some good news. anything.
for them. )
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Elsword crouches so she can get on his back, and then hooks his arms under her knees. Once she's secured, he takes off, and... it might be more impressive if he could get higher. But he can't. It makes it so that he has to weave between some of the taller trees, but getting to the manor is fast enough to where it shouldn't be a problem. He hopes.
Landing is done by simply dropping out of the sky and landing in a crouch, like a cat, and then from there she's free to hop off.]
I have that key to the office in my pocket, but I don't think it'll help us get in.
[So. He'll just check the perimeter, too bothered to ask "how was the flight" or something polite.]
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but they're at the manor, and it's the one thing no one's been able to check yet. rusty perks up as they land, and she quietly brushes past the dog once she's dismounted, walking to the door. there's no sign of entry, but... )
...
( holding out her hand, she closes her eyes and gathers as much of her magic as she can- no small feat, when she's a bottomless spring of the stuff- and blasts. )
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we're blastin.
Elsword has one working braincell at any moment and if we're firing off magic that means he's helping, so.
Guess who's also just going to ??? conjure a completely Normal amount of magic and aim where Fel is aiming? You'll never guess. It's impossible to guess.]
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C'mon...
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I-
I'll try. Okay? But be careful. Please.
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[He's done this before. It's instinct to him, dodging attacks that aren't even aimed at him necessarily — bursts of Aisha's magic from overhead and Rena's arrows curving around him — and in his mind, it's necessary. At this point, Elsword doesn't know how anyone, let alone Add, would get into the manor. But it's his last option, and he has to check.
Just in case.
So, next time she creates an opening, he's gunning for it, trying to worm his way into the manor through the broken wood and warped stone before it shuts entirely behind him.]
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It's quiet. There is a foyer with a family portrait- a man and wife, and three children, alongside Rusty, when he was a much younger puppy. Beyond the foyer is a hallway with a door to a living room, the kitchen, and a reading room.
Beyond that, a flight of stairs.
What will you do, while the crackling air tries to force you out?
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He stops to look at the portrait, hums, and pats the manor key in his pocket, the one he and 9S unearthed. If he's in here, he might as well try to get in there, is his thought process. After a few more seconds of staring at the portrait to try to map it to memory — man, wife, three children, Rusty, he thinks he can recount that to Fel when he gets out — he makes his way toward the stairs.]
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Your arm aches.
There's the sound of footsteps all around- some heavy and clawed, slow from the side rooms. And then a much lighter set- small and fast, above. The stairs wind up to the next floor, which include four bedrooms and the office, but you could also go to the third floor, if you wish.
> Backtrack to downstairs footsteps
> Explore second floor
>Continue ascension
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Elsword hears the footsteps, but he's gotta get into that office. So if the office on this floor is the office of Aldric, that's where he's headed first. He can backtrack later.]
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Audrey's room smells like death when you pass it.
The office door is locked, but the key will fit.
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single-minded determination means he has to press forward.
Elsword shoves the key into the lock and turns it.]
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Felicity below, still maintaining the blast of pure magic.
It looks like it would have been a cozy place to work in. The desk is littered with sepia photos of the family in the portrait, alongside a dark-skinned man with warm eyes.
The desk also has a photograph of Aldric and a woman who looks to be his twin, the dark-skinned man, his children and Rusty, and a few others. A kind woman with white hair, and her bratty-looking son. A man with black hair holding his pink haired little sister. ... An almost human-looking Rennuid, and Yor.
And you, vibrant and red and ready for anything, young as you were.
The group is pretty large, actually. There may be others you recognize- or would recognize- in the photograph.
SCREAMING AND CRYING AND TEARING MY HAIR OUT
Elsword will carefully grab the photographs and take them with him. If they're loose/not framed he'll look for a book to press them between to keep them from getting bent, otherwise he'll try to hide any loose ones in any frames and take that with him. Point being he's trying to preserve this weird history.
He's gonna dig around for more stuff — journal entries or signs of life, mostly. Hints as to where Aldric might've gone, perhaps.]
CACKLING IN MY EVIL LAIR (my loft bed surrounded by sanrio plushies)
There's plenty of books, mostly on business and almanacs and world geography - none of the maps are recognizable to you, but pinned to the wall is a map of the woods. Aldric's Grove is not in the center, but the woods are large. There's writing in red showing where they were planning to build and expand, planned roads- it was supposed to be a settlement to establish more trade routes through the woods.
Outside of the forest is old ruins. A cliffside overlooking the Emerald Sea.
The journal starts off optimistic on the endeavor- though illness has taken Marlene and Elijah, he's been granted permission and the resources to strike out. If all goes well, not only will there be a new trade route between Haven and Roseroot- allowing easier access to higher quality goods and medicines- but the settlement will be a much needed new beginning for many- like poor Grace, taking in another child when she's already dealing with the last of a messy divorce. If that man follows them, Aldric might punch the bastard himself. The Morais kids, too. It was a bit harder to justify them, unlike the doctor, but- they need out, too.
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He's going to have to sit down later and dissect this for real. Fel is out there still blasting, but he'll knock on the window and wave at her and give a thumbs up of "I'm alive! Keep going!!"
If there's nothing else for him to put his claws on, he's going to head to Audrey's room to see if he can discern why it smells... dead. In here. The only reason he didn't do this first is because the stench of decay is an obvious sign that no one's alive and in need of rescue.]
cw: child death, implied self harm, implied starvation
It is also a tomb. Laying on the bed, is a chestnut haired child - the youngest girl from the portraits - like she's sleeping... if not for the fact that she's been dead for days now. Oddly enough, she hasn't started to visibly decompose - perhaps this is a blessing, if only because decomposing children are terrible, heartbreaking sights.
Her wrists are marred with marks. Her face is gaunt and her arms and legs are thin.
It was not a fast death.
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He doesn't think he could get her outside for a proper burial. Or, perhaps more accurately, dying surrounded by things you once loved is maybe for the best. He wouldn't know.
Elsword sets aside what he's carrying for now to pull the blankets up over her entirely, biting his lip so not to make a sound, as if she'd wake up and say "just kidding" at a barely-restrained noise of pain.]
May Elria's Light carry you to Heaven.
[He thinks, at one point, it was a prayer Ain used to say. Maybe he's missing a few lines, but the meaning lingers.
Back into the hallway to investigate the other kids' rooms, he supposes.]
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and a white wolf-like monster slowly climbing up the stairs. Hey. Hi. Heard you were lookin' to snoop. It sees you first, and therefore you are the target.
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pulls out sword, come at him bro he's ripped
(he is also firing off many swords at the wolf with magic, get behind him kid he'll protect u)]
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The monster rears back, roaring so loudly that it shakes the wood, before charging. Each sword knocks it back a little, but there's no blood.
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Elsword is going to raise his sword up and block as best he can, if he goes skidding backwards that's because he's short. The retaliation is a burst of golden magic, fanning out from his back in a large explosion. He's trying to keep it controlled as much as he can, though, so that might be something of a hindrance.]
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It feels... lighter than a beast of its size should.
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1/3
2/3
3/3, cw: electrocution
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