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sticksandbones2024-09-06 11:16 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-09-06 11:16 am
EVENT & TDM 016
A CREEPING FURY SETTING IN
WAKE UP
You don’t recall how you got here. Hell, you’re barely sure “why” you’re here in the first place. But the fact is, by the time you come to your senses, you’re already standing in line out in front of a tent with a big sign on it: FREE STUFF! FIRST COME FIRST SERVE!
Others who have been here longer are aware of you, of course. They watched you ambling around on autopilot for two hours before the sign went up, and then you suddenly hopped into the queue (and maybe even cut in line! the horror!) before the brain fog cleared. Where are you? Why are you in line? Do you even want free stuff? All of these questions can only be answered when you see what the free stuff is.
…it’s random junk. Random magical junk, mind, but when a woman made of solid shadows hands you a wand that apparently summons a small amount of pigeons “per day, until it breaks”, you take it. Or, perhaps, the item was a crystal ball that only shows you made-up scenes from a book. Or it’s a hand-fan that blows only warm air, or a pen that writes all of your letters backwards despite the fact you yourself aren’t doing that… anything quirky and stupid is within the realm of possibility, and Ydalir is trying so hard to get rid of her failed magical experiments. Please. Please take these. Her tent is overstocked and she needs to start anew.
And to those of you who are new here, she’ll offer a friendly greeting and wave, and ask you how your head is feeling after that strange wandering session earlier. Don’t feel pressured to answer; the line needs to keep moving, after all.
Others who have been here longer are aware of you, of course. They watched you ambling around on autopilot for two hours before the sign went up, and then you suddenly hopped into the queue (and maybe even cut in line! the horror!) before the brain fog cleared. Where are you? Why are you in line? Do you even want free stuff? All of these questions can only be answered when you see what the free stuff is.
…it’s random junk. Random magical junk, mind, but when a woman made of solid shadows hands you a wand that apparently summons a small amount of pigeons “per day, until it breaks”, you take it. Or, perhaps, the item was a crystal ball that only shows you made-up scenes from a book. Or it’s a hand-fan that blows only warm air, or a pen that writes all of your letters backwards despite the fact you yourself aren’t doing that… anything quirky and stupid is within the realm of possibility, and Ydalir is trying so hard to get rid of her failed magical experiments. Please. Please take these. Her tent is overstocked and she needs to start anew.
And to those of you who are new here, she’ll offer a friendly greeting and wave, and ask you how your head is feeling after that strange wandering session earlier. Don’t feel pressured to answer; the line needs to keep moving, after all.
HOUNDS ON YOUR HEELS
At some point as the summer fades into autumn, something in the air changes. The surrounding woods and its foggy walls have felt tenser than usual, like something is waiting for you to slip and fall into jaws just waiting to snap shut around your flesh — but nothing happens. Not initially, at least. But keen eyes will soon see a plethora of fairies, long sleeves dangling over razor-sharp claws like a praying mantis’s arms, hair tied back in loose buns, all wearing masks with a single watchful eye painted upon them. As your gazes meet, they giggle and disperse.
And then there are more. And as more gather, watching the paths you take, the houses and buildings erected, the way you move through the gardens, they begin to screech like cicadas. Like alarms.
It could be the lumbering, moss-covered frog that leaps towards you from the lake, large enough to match a car. It could be the wood and stone-crusted bear, spears and arrows collected in its haunches like decoration and not the injuries they clearly are, standing taller than anything you’ve ever seen. It could be the long, winding dragon with lichen dripping off of it, coiling through the trees. Regardless, the fairies are calling to your location and one of them is going to answer.
They chase with an almost single-minded perseverance, with claws and sticky tongues and fangs — stealth is the key, so long as the fairies don’t rat you out again. Though they can be fought, they cannot die in a way that matters — just as easily as flesh tears, it will stitch itself back together and hold a grudge.
Every broken twig is a signal to your location. Every brush of wind in the trees and the grass could be the monsters stalking after you.
It’s time to play: Hide and Seek.
And then there are more. And as more gather, watching the paths you take, the houses and buildings erected, the way you move through the gardens, they begin to screech like cicadas. Like alarms.
It could be the lumbering, moss-covered frog that leaps towards you from the lake, large enough to match a car. It could be the wood and stone-crusted bear, spears and arrows collected in its haunches like decoration and not the injuries they clearly are, standing taller than anything you’ve ever seen. It could be the long, winding dragon with lichen dripping off of it, coiling through the trees. Regardless, the fairies are calling to your location and one of them is going to answer.
They chase with an almost single-minded perseverance, with claws and sticky tongues and fangs — stealth is the key, so long as the fairies don’t rat you out again. Though they can be fought, they cannot die in a way that matters — just as easily as flesh tears, it will stitch itself back together and hold a grudge.
Every broken twig is a signal to your location. Every brush of wind in the trees and the grass could be the monsters stalking after you.
It’s time to play: Hide and Seek.
‘TIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT
cw: supernatural parasitism & energy/life-force draining
… And where do those captured go, when all is said and done? None of the Seekers actually kill them after all — they may carry their unfortunate victims within their mouths if they are large enough to do so, but as soon as one is captured, they leave.
Though it’s risky to try and track them through the woods, those who try or stay awake during their capture will find themselves taken down a winding path in the fog. One can also bribe a fairy or two to help — or at least not rat you out. A shiny object or food — berries, honey, the fresh-killed heart of that songbird on the branch, all work fine to win its favor for a time. Eventually, they’ll find themselves up a path to a gargantuan tree covered in glowing boils — it’s something that manages to dwarf even the whale-sized moose that may wander by wordlessly, impassive to your plights as moose are wont to do.
Sickly motes of light waft through the air and gently-glowing flowers bloom all around the land, moss glistens against the bark and dirt and perhaps if this place was not so warped by evil, it could have been beautiful once. Coiled around the tree is a vine where the captured are tied to, and they will feel…
Tired. Compliant. Don’t you wish to sleep? The tree needs you. Don’t struggle. Don’t resist. Sleep, and dream no more…
Keen eyes will see the skeletons of former victims further up the vines. As the tree feeds on its captives’ life force, fairies and the Seekers stand guard, only going out to fetch more victims. Do you make the attempt? Or will you come back with reinforcements?
… And where do those captured go, when all is said and done? None of the Seekers actually kill them after all — they may carry their unfortunate victims within their mouths if they are large enough to do so, but as soon as one is captured, they leave.
Though it’s risky to try and track them through the woods, those who try or stay awake during their capture will find themselves taken down a winding path in the fog. One can also bribe a fairy or two to help — or at least not rat you out. A shiny object or food — berries, honey, the fresh-killed heart of that songbird on the branch, all work fine to win its favor for a time. Eventually, they’ll find themselves up a path to a gargantuan tree covered in glowing boils — it’s something that manages to dwarf even the whale-sized moose that may wander by wordlessly, impassive to your plights as moose are wont to do.
Sickly motes of light waft through the air and gently-glowing flowers bloom all around the land, moss glistens against the bark and dirt and perhaps if this place was not so warped by evil, it could have been beautiful once. Coiled around the tree is a vine where the captured are tied to, and they will feel…
Tired. Compliant. Don’t you wish to sleep? The tree needs you. Don’t struggle. Don’t resist. Sleep, and dream no more…
Keen eyes will see the skeletons of former victims further up the vines. As the tree feeds on its captives’ life force, fairies and the Seekers stand guard, only going out to fetch more victims. Do you make the attempt? Or will you come back with reinforcements?
DON’T LOOK BACK
… But regardless of the hostility from the forest, the game must come to an end eventually. And in return for surviving, upon whatever throne he sits upon, the Black Sun offers the world a bit of power as the victims recover — those who perish to the monsters will awaken within their beds, unable to remember anything for a total 24 hours and with floral growths blooming around their scars — but after the initial panic, those who can will confirm that there is no Corruption in these wounds. They may fade, or they may not. Those who survive the month will only carry whatever injuries and weariness they gained over time.
Come morning light, the area of the river will give off a bright glow. Investigation will yield a lot of pain in the eyes, like looking directly at the sun, but eventually it dies down and residents of the Grove can properly have a look at the river again. Those that do may find themselves pleasantly surprised. While clouds shield the skies most of the time, over the river there is a gentle, warm sunlight and blue skies. The abundance of riverside foliage has grown, with new species available for those who can recognize such things — and the water, crisp and clearer than ever, holds more types of fish and amphibians as well. Besides the apple tree — Sinann’s gift for freedom long ago, and Moder’s blackberry bush — new is fruit available. The apple tree is flanked by a peach tree and an orange tree, while the other side of the riverbank houses… …A durian tree.
Some Guardians are grateful. Callan is Callan.
Perhaps best of all though is that Sinann itself has grown in size and in power: in fact, as you approach, it floats above the water to give a greeting.
“Thank you once more for your help.”
Come morning light, the area of the river will give off a bright glow. Investigation will yield a lot of pain in the eyes, like looking directly at the sun, but eventually it dies down and residents of the Grove can properly have a look at the river again. Those that do may find themselves pleasantly surprised. While clouds shield the skies most of the time, over the river there is a gentle, warm sunlight and blue skies. The abundance of riverside foliage has grown, with new species available for those who can recognize such things — and the water, crisp and clearer than ever, holds more types of fish and amphibians as well. Besides the apple tree — Sinann’s gift for freedom long ago, and Moder’s blackberry bush — new is fruit available. The apple tree is flanked by a peach tree and an orange tree, while the other side of the riverbank houses… …A durian tree.
Some Guardians are grateful. Callan is Callan.
Perhaps best of all though is that Sinann itself has grown in size and in power: in fact, as you approach, it floats above the water to give a greeting.
“Thank you once more for your help.”
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
WAKE UP
Welcome to Aldric's Grove! New and old residents alike are being gifted free, joke magic items from Ydalir's tent while she does her autumn cleaning. Please take these, she's desperate.
HOUNDS ON YOUR HEELS
Little insect-faeries watch your every move. Suddenly, from the barrier, you're being attacked by various monsters trying to capture you and drag you off. Better run. Better hide.
‘TIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT
If you're caught, you'll be dragged to become food for a large tree that drains your life force directly. If you aren't rescued in time, you'll die slowly and peacefully.
DON’T LOOK BACK
Those of you who die will come back the next day with temporary amnesia lasting 24 hours. It'll clear up after, and all of your memories will come back as if with magic. But, in the end, you've won the game, and that means ample rewards: More fruit trees, and the River Guardian growing more powerful after all this time.
OOC
Welcome to September's TDM! Reminder that all TDMs are game canon. OOC Plotting Lives Here if you'd like to plot anything out! We have several toplevel comments below for randomizing any result you want this month, including the magic items from Ydalir if you're having a hard time making something up.
UPDATES
❖ None yet!
SUBMISSIONS
ii
Hello, little one. Are you lost?
[ He gently raises his hand to position it under the ball of light, cupping it carefully. He doesn't recognize it - until he opens his eyes.
And promptly shuts them again with a mild wince. Even like this, Ain's god-like soul is burning bright. ]
Ah, Ain, my dear. Whatever happened?
[ Not that it seems the little ball of light might be able to answer him. ]
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Naturally, there is no answer. Ain can't speak in this form, and even if he could, he still doesn't know who he is. The glow of the ball of light brightens ever so slightly the longer it sits. This energy is not El Energy, which he'd normally use to have form again, but it's magic nonetheless.
The fae start alarming soon after, and the lightball suddenly gets up and zips off, stopping a few feet away to make sure Pure Vanilla is following. Back to a house! Any house!! You aren't safe out here!!]
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[ The brightening light seems good? Much like Revali, it seems supping on magical energies may be helping Ain? It's a fascinating concept, as technically creatures that feed on "magic" back home are eating life powder, but that does not seem to be the case here. Simply the ambient radiant energies is enough to-
The faeries beginning their cicada screeching rips Pure Vanilla from his thoughts, and Ain doesn't need to check to see if the sheep is following him. Because panic sets in and the man bolts after the light, Staffs eye wide. He let himself get distracted, he should have known better, how vulnerable is Ain like this?!
The light will get snatched, forgive him for his in-delicateness Ain but the sheep is bleating and panicking and you are his child, and the first door they come across is almost ripped off it's hinges by Minotaur strength as Pure Vanilla opens it, darts inside with Ain, and closes it.
Then huddles himself in a dark corner and tries to get his breathing under control while snuggling Ain-glowbug in against his chest to protect him. ]
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The faerie screaming will eventually stop, as it always does when they lose sight of a target. They might not be out of the woods yet, but at the very least, Ainbug feels safe enough to wiggle slightly out of Pure Vanilla's grip and sit on his shoulder.
His ambient magic is helping! He wishes he could say it was. The brightening glow will continue until morale improves.]
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Ovens...
[ The most intense swear Peepaw will ever utter. He sets his staff against the wall to free his hand tos crub at his face, as Ain-bug wiggles out of his hand. It makes his Staff watch like a hawk, where do you think you- oh, just to his shoulder. Okay.
Carefully moving to sit down, Vanilla tilts his head back to rest it on the wall behind him, raising his hand to gently pet the Ain-bug with a finger. It's not hard to notice the glow brightening. ]
Mm, would channeling some magic directly help?
[ He doesn't dare do anything big while the faeries are searching, but there's a reason his body is covered in markings underneath his clothing. It's to help channel. ]
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The little bouncing makes him smile and huff a soft laugh. ]
All right, my dear, all right. Settle down.
[ Carefully he cups his hand around Ain to transfer the little glowbug to his palm, then curls his other hand as well to cage him in. He opens his eyes and focuses, drawing on his energy and his magic to ball it into his hands. To let Ain soak in it, like a little magic hot springs.
It's not strange to channel like this, it would be like what he would do to empower a moonstone, but it takes a delicate balance to not just blast the poor baby with it. ]
1/2
Glowbug feels a sudden surge of magic, realises that he's about to pop into person form again, and flies out between Pure Vanilla's fingers so that he doesn't crush him.]
2/2
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[ The sound ends in the most startled bleat out of him yet and he instinctively opens his arms to catch Ain, using his body to cushion the other so he doesn't just bounce off the floor. Nevermind if he receives an elbow to the gut or a head wonking into his own.
Then just sits there, winded and waiting for his thoughts to regather, patting Ain gently like there there. ]
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Mister... ahhh, I'm sorry, are you alright? I tried to get away in time, but I guess I mistimed it. I didn't hurt you, did I?
[This poor old? man??? Old people are fragile, right, what if Ain broke his bones? Oh no...]
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I'm all right, my dear. Take a moment to reorient yourself, it's okay.
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[Headpats... those are nice. This old man must be a dad? Grandpa???]
Let me help you up, at least. [And he will scramble to properly get up, stand, and offer a hand out to Pure Vanilla.]
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[ Especially with who Ain is. He will take the offered help up, bracing his Staff into the floor as he takes Ain's hands and climbs to his feet, rubbing his back lightly and brushing himself off, before fussing over Ain. He looks all right. ]
Whatever happened?
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I dunno! I don't really remember anything, haha.
[Said very nonchalantly, like they're talking about the weather. It's cloudy with a chance of amnesia today.]
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What is the last thing you recall?
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[He says this with the brightest, sunniest smile. Like there is nothing wrong here, not a thing wrong at all.]
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Do you even recall your own name, my dear?
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[Can't feel anxiety about your identity crisis if you just... swallow it and pretend not knowing your name is Totally Fine!]
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You are. Your full name is Ainchase Ishmael. I am unsure what has happened, but I do know you are safe right now. I am Pure Vanilla Cookie.
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But you're a sheep?
[Ain is going to compartmentalize the rest of that. The bad thoughts can't get him if he puts all of that into the delete bin.]
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I have been turned into one on coming to the Grove, yes. Do you remember the Grove?