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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.
no subject
He doesn't even get the chance to swear. Not even a "What the fuck" before he's suddenly grabbed by some guy and carried like he weighed nothing, his voice grating on his ears as the words don't register. It's hard to pay attention to that right now, not when some man with a blindfold just came out of nowhere and manhandled him without warning, not when his precious arrow is still on the floor, with vines wriggling menacingly at them. No, he's too shocked to react properly for a few seconds, discombobulated by the turn of events. So he does the only logical thing he can think of at that moment.
He shoves the guy in the face, struggling in his grip like the angriest cat in the world.]
Let me go! Get off of me!!
no subject
Hey, quit that- [ The words come with a huff. With his hands full, he can't fix the way his goggles are hiked up on one side of his face, pushing his bangs in funny directions in the bargain. Ugh. 9S's frown looks more like a pout before he speaks. ] I'm just getting you away from those things. You know, to safety?
[ For as much as his core programming dictates that he should obey, preserving human life takes precedent. So 9S bears with the flailing and pushing until he finds a stump some distance away from carnivorous foliage to plonk the guy down on. There. Nice and safe, just a few scratches.
What's he got for those...? Well, first, he's fixing his goggles back in place, gloved hands moving to straighten himself out automatically now that the threat can't reach this fussy human. ]
no subject
His fingers itch to pull his hood down, but that's admitting weakness.]
... You didn't have to carry me like that. I didn't ask for your help.
no subject
[ 9S doesn't exactly expect gratitude per se, but this attitude grates on him. The guy would probably be plant food by now if he hadn't intervened, not that he could have resisted the impulse to do so even if he wanted to.
Just to make his point, he lifts a hand, a holographic array of screens appearing between them. He taps away at them until he reaches what he wants — his recently recorded memory — and plays it for this human's viewing pleasure.
Nevermind that 9S' memories also show himself in third-person perspective for some reason, what matters here is the view of his human companion struggling in apparent futility against carnivorous flowers, the blood of their previous victims staining the ground. ]
Does that not look like struggling to you?
no subject
[He shoots back immediately, frowning at the video. He doesn't address whether it was struggling or not, because he wasn't giving him the satisfaction of a direct answer. Instead, he's huffing and turning away, still eyeing his arrow.
He doesn't have a lot of those.
So he goes straight towards danger again, to get his arrow back.]