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sticksandbones2023-08-04 10:59 am
- !event,
- !tdm,
- arknights: gnosis,
- arknights: mizuki,
- arknights: shalem,
- baldur's gate iii: astarion ancunín,
- elsword: elsword,
- fate: bb,
- handead anthem: gara ukai,
- i'm the grim reaper: brook,
- jujutsu kaisen: toge inumaki,
- original: caoimhe ailbhe,
- original: felicity morais,
- original: rennuid tathviel
Event & TDM 003
You open your eyes.
It feels like you’ve been here before, like you’re finally home. Today, the sun shines brightly, brilliantly, on the open forest clearing making up Aldric’s Grove. Vines wrap around old buildings, overgrowth covers ruins of what once were homes and shops, and weeds poke up through the cracks of foundations. Before you stands an inn, a well, and one hundred beautiful flowers peppered throughout the clearing. Be not fooled by their beauty, wanderer; should you stray too close, the flowers are happy to bite.
Fret not, however; should you seek escape from the carnivorous foliage, the inn is plenty safe from attacks. Perhaps you ought to get acquainted with others like you, lounging in the lobby with nowhere to go. Perhaps you should find yourself a room, a place to stay. After all, room and board is completely free of charge! Should you dig through the bedside table of your new room, you’ll find only one thing within: A Polaroid photograph of yourself from years ago. You were younger, then — or, if age doesn’t define you, you were different. Still, you remember posing for this photograph… don’t you?
If the photo is too much for you, a trip to the river might offer respite. The oppressive fog wrapping around the grove and obscuring much of the distant forest some miles out won’t let you wander too far. Luckily, there’s a stretch of river perfect for a round of fishing, playing in, or simply relaxing by. Mushrooms grow along the banks and on the trees, but remember to say “thank you” to the forest if you take them. You wouldn’t like the consequences otherwise.
cw: madness, hallucinations
You might have had luck avoiding the gnashing fangs of the flowers thus far, but they begin to get restless and aggressive the longer they go without feeding. They can’t quite uproot themselves and chase you down, but they will stretch their stalks as far as they can, unfurl their petals and try to wrap sharp leaves around your legs and anything else within reach. If you aren’t careful, their fangs will pierce your flesh, and they will drink from you until they drain you dry. Shout for help if they latch on. Surely someone will come to your aid.
…just try not to look at them much. The flowers take passive abilities of anyone they feed from, and that means they possess powers of their own. Stare for a moment too long, and you’ll begin to see your nightmares brought to life, feel a crawling down your back like one million insect feet, a grappling at your ankles as something tries to drag you under the metaphorical tides. Black tendrils sweep over your eyes, they grip the facades of buildings, they tear your friends to shreds and eat them whole. Focus. Focus on that voice telling you to snap out of it, on the people around you waving their hands in front of your eyes. It isn’t real. Blink, shake your head, and clear your thoughts.
Or don’t. “Give in,” a sultry voice murmurs, “Let me consume you.”
cw: auditory hallucinations, animal butchery
From the fenced-off, locked-up manor to the northwest of the Grove, a spill of magic begins to leak out from boarded-up windows. It’s gradual at first before it suddenly bursts, and that’s when everything starts to go haywire. The Manor’s heart aches, friend. Something in that house is oh-so-miserable with no way out… and it intends to make you feel its pain.
Every regret you’ve ever had — every word left unspoken, every lie you’ve told, everything you believe you’ve done wrong — those feelings are brought to the surface and magnified. No matter where you look, what you do, or how much you try to distract yourself, those emotions will always bubble to the surface.
You might think wandering into the forest will help you flee from yourself for a time, but as soon as you cross the threshold, the path back to the clearing closes behind you in a rustle of leaves. The only way out is forward, it seems, but the forest won’t play fair. The path will shift unexpectedly, blocking your route, forcing you to backtrack, but never quite allowing escape. All the while, voices fill your mind, chasing after you no matter where you go. They are the murmurs of those you have wronged, the murmurs of a conscience slighted.
Seeking out a companion in the labyrinth will quell them, for a time. Should your heart weigh too heavy, confessing to your labyrinth-partner what you’re grappling with will absolve you of your guilt and leave you feeling clear-headed enough to escape. At that point, the forest, too, seems content to let you solve the maze without interference.
Should you escape fairly, without harming the labyrinth, you’ll be rewarded: A freshly-hunted game animal from your homeland is dropped at your feet just as you step back into the clearing. Enjoy it, for you will not have the opportunity to get another. The forest only allows one round per person.
The residents of Aldric’s Grove have had a rough time here, but not everything has to be bad. On the night of the new moon, the Shopkeeper leaves his store for the night, and alongside the Trader — who normally sits outside the inn by her stall and her giant turtle — he constructs a bonfire some distance from the carnivorous plants. Nearby to it are tables with a feast set upon them, free for everyone to enjoy. There’s music playing from… somewhere. Don’t think about it too hard. The wispy, sentient shadows that comprise the Shopkeeper and Trader are happy to dance with you, too, if you ask.
Enjoy your night, friends. You’ve made it to the end of the month, and you deserve a break.
CLICK TO EXPAND!
❖ Several patches of the murderous flowers seem to have been electrocuted, lit on fire or cut.
Wake Up
Caoimhe is light on her feet, with an expertise in stealth making her quite the silent approach. She passes by with unguided intentions, her hands are clasped around sheets from her bed within the innroom. She hoists them to her side and begins to walk down the hall minding her attention before her at none in particular. The wood elf means to take them outside for a wash. Prestidigitation, could remove the grime and muk from any sheet, but it would not fully clean its worth. Nor offer the sweet gentleness of a flowery scent with it.
She walks past at first, but out of her peripheral the target of white hair, pale skin, and pointed ears causes her to almost trip forward. There is a strange sound, like a scuffle of sorts before she comes back suddenly. Steps quickened one after the other, as the bare of her feet clattered on the wood floor. Caoimhe's whole figure pops out of the door frame, and immediately her exasperated face changes into that of embarrassment. Once again thinking she saw a ghost of her past, "AH..."
Eyes veer away, their blue colors fluttering down the hall and then back to the new person again, "Oh.. Yes... I think so...? Um.... Are you new?"
Voice is quiet and uncertain, but she clutches hold of the blankets in her hand and tries to make normal conversation. However, she seems to waft over his image and jump right into the circumstances they were in, "Are you - - Are you - I-I hope the photo does not frighten you...?"
Stealth Expertise Bros!
He flips it to look at it again, a touch distracted still. “I am… newly arrived here, yes, though it seems you’ve been here long enough to need to wash bed linens. Are the flowers usually like that?”
YESSSS except caoimhe only has it bc i thought it would be funny LMAOSJFDKS
The linens are still clasped in her hands, and she adjusts them firmly so they are squished at her sides, "Only say... Two full moon's time? Then again... Sometimes the moon seems so different on any given day... Ah, but the flowers? The flowers were not always so ravenous, I am uncertain what has changed them. Merely that we need to be careful not to look at them, and stay ourselves away. Might I know your name, good fellow? My own is, Caoimhe...."
A pause, but her voice quickly breaks into speaking perhaps even accidentally speaking over him. The manner of the tongue she speaks changes, and now she talks to him in elvish curious to see if they are from the same realm or plane of existence, "Y-You are elven no?"
I will have you know this started a whole research bunnyhole, and… OH BOY HIS TRAGEDY OF A LIFE
His expression falters for a moment at the Elvish; half recognition of the words, an odd flicker of shame and anger before it slides back to something apologetic.
“I am Astarion, it’s a pleasure to meet you Caoimhe.” He pauses, and his elvish response is… halting, like he can only barely remember it, or maybe never learned. “Elf. Yes. Though I’m terribly out of practice with our mother tongue, darling, too much time amongst everyone else.”
mSDLFMLSKDMFSD LMFA UR WELCOME OIHGOD NO NOT T HE SAD ELF
She says, but then draws pause with evident concern drawn on her face. His expressions do not seem to bother her in any way, or even make her hesitant. Instead, she walks into the room and immediately places the linens onto a chair. Moving towards him with evident concern, "Does this mean your memory is not well - ?"
At least to her elven kind, any lapse of memory meant that your time was coming to its end. Foolishly, she does not fathom at the moment that he perhaps simply never learned the mother tongue, "Do you have any other symptoms? Are you okay? Is your head hurting? You are not sickly are you - oh I do hope not. Ah! But if you are please do not fret, we can speak to the Trader or Shopkeeper here! I am sure that they can help in any way."
He’s a Mary Poppins Bag of Trauma! Also thank you for having a dndbeyond sheet! GURL UR PASSIVES
“I’m from Bauldur’s Gate, on the Sword Coast. I’m not sure what-“
There’s definitely something off about Astarion, as she gets closer. He’s almost too pale, puncture scars at his throat, an unnatural sharpness to his teeth. He’s also a bit uncomfortable with her sudden closeness, but doesn’t move away.
Instead he laughs, “Other symptoms? Of what? Darling there’s- well, quiet a bit really you don’t need to fuss about it though, truly. It’s… well one can get used to a lot after a while.”
SDFSD LMFAO SHES A CTUALLY NOT THERE YET!! so shes like lvl 7 she gets canon update soon tho > :3c
All the notes and signs that would give a normal person red flags - don't, to her. She is a country bumpkin through and through, a little mermaid sort of character retold within the realm of Abeir-Toril - but with Primordial Gods, as Parents. No dwellings to be had, as that truth is something not even known to her as she is now, "Ah!"
Truly, Ah!
Caoimhe lets out an exhale, a deep one that releases all the worries welled within her worry wart of a heart, "I am glad then, I truly thought for a moment you must be ill. At least for the elven folk within the Tuatha De - a lapse of memory is a sure sign of one's life coming to an end. I mean, simply that you are growing old!"
She gives a chipper smile. As if all things are good, and everything can move on into better tidings, "Will you be with me for a walk then? I can show you around more. You can tell me about Bauldur's Gate, and what it is like on the Sword Coast!"