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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
no subject
Odile is unharmed at the moment, at least on the outside. All of her muscles seem to be screaming at her, but she can ignore that.
She hesitates to accept the bundle. She can see the logic, yes, but surely this isn't strictly necessary.
Then again, there's a massive flying reptile chasing her through the woods with teeth as long as her hand, and speed has never been her strong suit. She struggles not to audibly sigh as she follows his lead.
no subject
Excuse him as he slows to a stop and pulls out a cherry turnover? from a small bag. It looks like a cherry turn over, it certainly smells like a cherry turnover, and he sets it on a branch carefully so it won't fall. Then keeps walking. And if she looks, she'll see why. Faeries with little Eye masks are quickly crowding around the sweet treat, talking amongst themselves (Talking?) and digging in.
So. Fairytale land you may actually be in. You're being lead through the forest by Pan who is gifting things that look very Fae like sweet treats, away from a snake of moss and hatred. You're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. At least Pan doesn't seem to be leading her into more danger, his ears flicking up at every little sound before relaxing.
no subject
"You don't sound entirely confident," she notes in a whisper. He said safer, not safe, and he doesn't say that they never come into buildings, or even that they definitely don't like it. She would feel better if she had more definite information. Any definite information, really.
no subject
"The Grove has it's charms and protections," he continues, ears flicking back towards her to keep track of her footsteps to make sure she's all right, "and the nights spend indoors have not seen anyone snatched from the beds. The moment you step foot outside, however, you must contend with the Faeries who See and call the Seekers. They can be bribed to leave you be for a short time," hence the turnover which may or may not have been cherry, "but unless you continue to give them goods, their fickle nature may change on you."
no subject
"What does one use to bribe such creatures?" It would be too expensive to rely on such a method for however long this situation continues, but it wouldn't hurt to have something on hand.
no subject
One last turn on the path and the Grove opens up in front of them. Despite entering it immediately, he pauses and lifts his ears, twisting them around in circles the best he can. No fluttering of wings, no lumbering of giant steps. Good. Relaxing, he nods towards the bigger building near the well.
"The Inn is magicked to be the best protection."
Careful now, he's more cautious in the Grove than he was in the Forest now as he leads her towards the Inn.
no subject
She pauses when he does, tense as she waits for his next move. She is very much out of her depth here, and very aware that she would probably be dead right now without his help.
"May I ask your name?" she inquires once they're within a few yards of the Inn door.
no subject
That one word manages to sound very embarrassed, as he stops near the well - and the two Statues that linger there protectively - and gives her an apologetic look. He puts his hand to his chest and bows towards her over it, even his Staff closing it's eye and curling a vine closer in a mimicry of the motion.
"Do forgive me, my friend, for my poor manners. My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie," he responds, straightening after he does and making a little gesture around them, "and this is Aldric's Grove, though many of us simply refer to it as The Grove now."
no subject
Not important right now. She shakes her head.
"No need. We've had other things on our minds." Not dying, for one. Keeping quiet, for another.
"I'm Odile. Thank you for saving me back there."
no subject
He doesn't enter, however, instead he bows again and gestures for her to enter first. Sorry, he's just like that.
no subject
Then she heads to the nearest chair and falls into it. Her lungs are only now starting to feel normal again.
"I think I'll just sit for a while. Don't feel like you have to keep me company. An old lady needs her rest, that's all."
Because mid-40s is old when you travel with a bunch of 20-somethings and a preteen.
no subject
"You look as young as the ones running around here do, my friend! Would you like another energy boost? It should help a bit, but I do highly recommend getting rest in one of the rooms above."
no subject
"Thank you, no. I'd prefer not to rely too much on Craft, especially in such uncertain circumstances." He might need that power later, after all, and she's safe now. She gladly accepts the water, though, and takes a cracker to chew on.
"I feel old, after today. Too old to be running around like this, at least."
no subject
"Ahaha, I understand completely. I will leave you to rest, my friend. Should you require anything, if you exit the Inn and head left past the bath house, you will find the General Store which is ran by one of my partners, Heimr. He should be able to set you up with what the Inn might not provide. Going out at night may be your best bet to avoid the sight of the Faeries, and do not worry about being stuck too long indoors. These-" here he hesitates, trying to think of the next word. Events? Attacks? "-games usually do not last longer than the month."
That's still not a good word and he sighs, sheep ears flicking a little, his voice soft, "It's a complicated thing to explain. Heimr or his sister, Ydalir, will also give you a journal to write in that you can use to communicate with any of us here, should you require anything at all."
no subject
"I'd rather have a bit of cabin fever than wear myself down running everywhere," she comments in agreement. A month is not ideal, but she doesn't have the stamina to keep up with more days like today.
"I'll find a time to speak to them. Thank you, again, for all your help."
no subject
Weeks of running through the forest with those things at his heel. Ugh.
Her thanks makes him bow his head gently, his hand on his chest again. A gentlemanly gesture, before straightening. "It's my honor, my friend. Take care of yourself. If you cannot bribe the See-ers, attempt to remain from their sight indoors."
Before he leaves he's going to head to the kitchen to grab some things so he can head back home with them... and to bribe any little Faeries that might come investigate.
no subject
She murmurs a polite "you too" in farewell, then sits back and closes her eyes. A few minutes to sort out her thoughts, and then... sleep.