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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
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[Because if it's definitely a teapot and does what a teapot is supposed to do, then it's not something existentially horrifying! Probably!]
Get me some water and I'll heat it up!
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Cool, one sec-!
[He will just peak into the kitchen to grab both some water and a few cups out of the cabinet. He'll come back and set them down on whatever table they might be near? Maybe a coffee table in the Inn's sitting room.]
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Huh. So far it's pretty normal...
[As normal as any of this can be. He admittedly feels kind of stupid cradling a teapot like it's a baby kitten, but it is what it is.]
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[If it does ANYTHING weird, he will know. Hopefully.]
Nothing weird on my end, either...
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Eventually it starts to steam and whistle but when Stan extinguishes his fire and pours the water out...it isn't water anymore. It's red and glittery, and has...tiny plastic dinosaurs in it?]
What the--?
[He opens the top of the teapot, and sure enough it's full of plastic dinosaurs that definitely weren't in there before! Then he slowly sets the pot down on the table and stares at it with just a bit of horror and suspicion.]
...So, uh. Curses. Are curses a thing here, or...?
[He wants it to be a coincidence, he really does, but plastic dinosaurs and glitter?! Really?!]
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[But wow, okay. He picks up a mug to look at it with a suspicious ...scrutinizing eye. He takes a sip.]
...It's hot Mabel Juice.
[WHAT THE FUCK.]
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He keeps staring at the teapot with the same amount of suspicion though, trying to figure out some other explanation for all of this. Sometimes the obvious thing is the right thing though...]
Is she...y'know...
[He sighs. This is stupid, even for them.]
...you think something cursed her into a teapot?
1/??????????????
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done
What are we going to do, how do we break this curse? Oh god, did the Fallen Sun do this? Ydalir?? Where did she get this teapot?! What the fuck-
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Easy, easy! It's gonna be fine! We'll figure it out! We'll-- we'll do something, just breathe, okay?
[What will they do? Fuck if he knows, but panicking isn't going to help!]
cw: panic to the point of almost vomiting.
I'm fine, I'm fine-
[HRRGHK.]
We should- m-maybe talk to Ydalir later. T'make sure.
cw: panic to the point of almost vomiting.
In a weird way, it makes him glad he's here. Someone's got to look out for Dipper.]
Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. That's the one who was giving out everything, right? We'll bug her about it.
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[It's had dubious success but he can't help but just be in a constant state of trying to seem taller than he is basically all the time around these people.]
Okay... Okay. So.
[He takes a deep breath and tries to brush past all of that.]
Weird teapot. Could be Mabel. We have no proof yet, but everything's fine we just. We can just keep it safe until we learn more.
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And guaranteed allies, as it turns out. Once he's had some sort of constantly dramatically billowing cloak foisted upon him, Ford checks his compass. When he does he's certain there's something wrong with his it. For the first time in months not all four hands are pointing directly at him. The hand labeled with his name is, of course, as is Mabel's... but Dipper's and Stan's are not. He stares at the compass, shakes it, turns in place, but the hands don't waver even a millimeter.
Abruptly, Ford takes off running. He makes a beeline for wherever the compass is pointing him. He barely makes concessions for things like bodies of water and walls, and things like fences and hedges he just climbs right over. It doesn't take him long to reach the inn, and from there it's easy to locate the door, fling it open, and stride inside, cloak billowing dramatically behind him. ]
Stanley? Dipp--
[ And then the 'wind' changes, and the cloak whips about and wraps itself around Ford's head and torso, leaving him sputtering and flailing in its folds. ]
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[That's about all he gets to say before the door flings open violently, and when he turns...
...well. That sure is Ford, stuck in a goofy magic cloak. Stan can't help it; he laughs hard both in relief and because his brother looks ridiculous enough that it breaks all of the mounting tension.]
Ha! Good to see you too, Poindexter. What, did you blow in from an Epic Wizard Quest somewhere?
[He's already getting up though, both to go untangle Ford and give him a tight hug if he's not too mad about being immediately picked on. He leaves Dipper with temporary custody of the Mabel tea pot.]
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[Of course as soon as he clocks it as his other missing uncle Dipper almost gets nauseous again. He's so full of fucking emotions it's going to fucking kill him at this rate. He stands by the teapot for a moment in shock before he finally moves forward, a few steps behind Stan.]
Grunkle Ford-!
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A woman made of shadoof—
[ Ford lets out a little wheeze as Stan gets him in a hug, laughing as best as he can with limited access to oxygen. ]
—shadow gave it to me. She had quite the impressive collection!
[ The cloak is, in fact, still trying to blow around dramatically, though Stan has it mostly pinned in place right now. ]
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Yeah, she gave me something too. Just wait 'til you see what I wound up with! You're not gonna believe it, and I know your bar is pretty high at this point.
[Honestly, Ford can probably see it on the table over their shoulders - a bright pink tea pot with the exact pattern from that shooting star sweater Mabel has.]
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Grunkle Ford- [It's muffled into his coat so it probably sounds like Grmkl Frrd. He pulls away, gross tears and all and looks up at him, full of emotion-]
This place has coffee.
[Hic sob.]
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[ Ford could, in fact, look at the teapot if he so wished... but right now, someone else is a bit more pressing. When Stan pulls Dipper into the hug, it frees Ford's arms enough for him to do the same. He pulls his arms tight around both of them. While Ford actually isn't crying, he's definitely a little misty eyed and his breath shakes as he inhales. He gives Dipper a warm, watery smile, though it blossoms into one of genuine delight at the news of coffee. ]
Coffee...! I won't have to worry about trying to magic more beans into existence now.
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Eh, there's still time to go back for more. Besides, I already got the most valuable thing there!
[The motion is all a bit much for Pollux, who decides that now is a good time to sneak back into Stan's chest as a wisp of smoke while no one else is paying attention, where she can enjoy the warmth of the family hug with everyone else. Before that, she had been attempting to nest on top of Stan's hat like a parrot.
Another time Stan would just pick on them about how neither of them are going to sleep for the next year, but he's too happy to have both of them in his arms after what's apparently been way too long.]
And we've got an inside coffee source - Dipper went and got a job!
[Is that pride??? It might be. You can't prove anything!]
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[When he does finally peel himself away, he scrubs his face and then immediately blusters at Stan talking up the job thing. He turns red but waves his arms dismissively as he heads over to the coffee pot to pour something for Ford.]
It’s not that big of a deal! Passenger had room for employment and I wanted to bake! Anyway, we should get coffee over there eventually because that stuff was strong enough to send me to Paul Bunyan. I think Grunkle Ford would like it.
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