sticks and bones. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
[The seeker roars as if on cue, a rumbling tremor that makes even the fairies flit away and scatter, and for a moment Loop thinks of the King: hands peeled from his face, a deafening scream more beast than man, echoes of a vision that could tear a mind to shreds. What did they see, that could bring them to their knees in an instant? Something horrid, something beautiful, something
they inhale sharply, reminding themselves to breathe, breathe, even if their lungs are still empty and their throat is a solid mass. They breathe in nothing and feel no better, but they can at least relax their grip, pretend they weren't just clinging to Timekeeper like their life depended on it.
... it does, though! Funny!! They don't feel like laughing. Must be the motion sickness.]
You're going to get us both killed! And for what?! Is it really that funny, watching me suffer? Is that why I'm not allowed to have one blinding break?!
no subject
No. Since you do not have a mouth to gag, shut up so that it cannot track us by sound. The eyes are easier to fool than the ears of a beast! Unless you have any better ideas on the fastest way back to town, I don't want to hear one more word, and once we are there you can have your witch-damned break!
no subject
It's... grounding. In a weird way. If she can hold them like this, that must mean they're real.
They turn their eyes away, once the shock simmers out through their skin—too real, they could do with less vulnerability, thanks. School their face into something more blank, since the mask isn't worth the effort.]
Fine. [Their last ounce of defiance, as pathetic as it is. They think about fingers digging into lightless sand, a castle tower squished down and swept back into the sea. Their skin prickles.] Don't blame me when it backfires.
[But they'll shut up, if that's what she wants. They have nothing worth saying to her anyway.]
no subject
Realizes her time freeze has already ended. When? How many seconds ago? Curse this place's writhing time, they can't afford a single moment lost!
There's a hissing behind them, wind and scales and lichen scraping the trees as a beast winds through them like a needle and thread through cloth. Timekeeper has already taken back off, but its eyes are on them fully now - and good as cookies are at running, the dragon might actually be faster.]
no subject
They can't hope to outrun it like this. They're in its element, and even Timekeeper must have her limits.
... but there's no reason not to try. Loop shifts to free an arm, snapping their fingers—a black spark flitting off, washing over them both to grant some extra speed. Will it be enough? Only time will tell.]
no subject
They don't have enough time to reach town before it catches up, and Timekeeper is painfully aware of this. She's been trying to time-step again, to take any edge she can with even the tiniest of stops, but the fabric of spacetime is slipping through her fingers like water and her head is pounding. Has she really become so weak, that she cannot change a single fate??
(She doesn't realize that her own panic is interfering, used as she is to ignoring it.)
The next roar is terrifyingly close.]
Witches-!
no subject
It's not enough. It's not going to be enough. They imagine their body crushed, impaled, sheared to pieces by this impossibly large beast. They can remember what it's like, to be crushed like an ant against something far larger than them. Would it be as cruel as the King? Would it make them suffer, before it drags them back to be drained into nothing? Would it make it quick, now that they've so little left to give?
What would it do to someone who dared to steal its prey?
Hah, really? Is that what they're worried about now? Concerned about the Timecrafter instead of themselves? They really are pathetic.
... but they don't really want to see something like that, even if it's her. And they know she's too stubborn to give up and let them go, so they'll just have to make do.
They gather their remaining strength, extending their arm towards the rampaging beast in a scissors sign—if they're being forced to face it over her shoulder like this, they might as well use the opportunity to do some damage. The craft bursts from their fingertips with a loud crack, a wave of spikes running down their arm from the recoil, a flicker of vibrant red in their eye—
another louder crack, broken teeth and blood scattered in the air, a monstrous roar and stumbling quake. The beast loses some ground, but just barely, quick to regain its footing.
... they may have made it, like, way angrier?? But inflicting some damage also makes them feel better, so it's fine, probably. Loop pants on reflex from the effort, arm still outstretched.]
no subject
A shower of leaves has been raked off the trees as the dragon stumbles backwards. Normally, they would simply flutter harmlessly down, but... they freeze in the air for a moment, shudder in a way that Loop might find viscerally familiar, then accelerate like lightning, slicing through everything in their path.
...The dragon acts like it barely feels them, even as they draw some thin lines across its hide. It surges forward, slamming a claw down hard.
Timekeeper feels pain erupt across her back and shoulder. A scent like iron and butter and strawberry seeps into the air. She only thinks, thank goodness it's not the shoulder Loop is on, grips the Embroider shakily, sets her jaw, and keeps going.
Something golden drips from under her eyepatch.
But it was enough. They're almost there. She's feeling woozier by the second (her clothes feel damp), and her vision is fading, but... the moment they're out of the woods, the moment she recognizes the town well enough, the moment she hears the crashing and roaring retreating behind them... they slow, sputter in the air, and drop unceremoniously out of it. They weren't far above the ground, it's only a couple of feet to fall, but...
Timekeeper can do nothing but crumple, the Embroider spinning out from underneath her and landing several yards away. It's fine, right? Even if Loop leaves her here, someone else will help. That's just how people here are, even if she hates to rely on it. It's not like she could stay awake if she tried, anyway.]
no subject
They break past the trees into a clearing, and as the dragon reels back a claw for a second swipe... it huffs out a humid breath, turning sharply back into the woods instead. They watch its scales shimmer along the edge of the treeline before it disappears completely.
Safe, safe, safe.
Loop lets their arm drop, breathing out a heavy sigh.] That was... [close, they want to finish, but they notice the Embroider start to sway, and before they have a chance to ask they're both being dumped into the grass.
It's tempting, to just pass out right here as well... but they still have a bit of adrenaline in their body, the memory of Timekeeper's visceral shade clear in their mind. Loop forces their body up onto their knees, crawling over to check on their rescuer.
... hmm, looks bad! They're reluctant to touch her, lest they make the injury worse, but. That dragon sure has claws alright.]
Stay with me, Timekeeper. You didn't drag me halfway across the woods to die to a graze.
[They cup their hand, drawing out more craft to pour some healing light down onto the wound. It's starting to give them a splitting headache, and the prick of red in their eye is a full cross now, not that they can tell, but they're determined to wring the last of their strength out here if it means keeping Timekeeper in one piece. They are not going to deal with any heroic sacrifices today, especially not from her.]
cw: blood/injury
And just when I was enjoying the nickname...
[Her fingers grip at the grass as she tries once more to summon her powers despite her spinning head, to turn the last few minutes back enough to erase the pain. Golden light flickers briefly across her, but it's too much, and she goes limp, blacking out for another moment.
The jagged gashes through her back look... yeah, they look bad. Probably nothing vital was struck, but it's a good bit more than a graze, and bleeding freely. There's already so much soaking into her clothes, and the claws tore right through everything she's wearing, including the simple black sports bra now visible, ragged edges partly stuck to the wounds.
Still, Loop's craft works, a little. The bleeding stanches, at least, though it's still clear they're going to need help, and quickly.]
no subject
No. Better not to think about that.
They take a deep breath in, and out. They have to keep trying.]
I'll have to come up with some new ones. Can't have you enjoying it too much! [Their voice is so shaky. They take another deep breath, then... raise their hand, forcing out yet more Craft to gather in their palm. It's hardly enough for a toast, slipping through their fingers like sand as they struggle to hold their focus, but it's still something. They ignore the stabbing pain and the growing numbness in their fingertips, a silent clink of imagined glass before pouring it out onto Timekeeper.
... it's even weaker than their last attempt, barely enough to sooth the pain, but at least this one lingers. Loop exhales as if through clenched teeth, then collapses onto their side.
Ah. They probably shouldn't be straining themselves, either. The world is spinning...]
no subject
It darts around over them in a distressed manner, nudging Timekeeper and only seeming more upset when she doesn't respond. It makes a frantic ticking noise, bobs a few times in front of Loop, then rockets off back towards the town. Stay right there! It'll find help!
Cog will descend desperately on the first familiar face it sees, kicking up a fuss of upset noises and bobbing and nudging until it convinces that person to follow it back to Timekeeper and Loop.]
no subject
Oh. Caught by one of the monsters. He sees.
He sniffs around them for a bit, circling, then begins to dig beside them. Furiously pawing at the ground.... about the length of their bodies.... ]
no subject
She breaks into a run when she recognizes the figures as humanoid. Her alarm is even greater when she recognizes them as people she knows. ]
Loop, Timekeeper! Are you alive?
no subject
Sorry no they're dead, you can clearly see it. He puts a dirty paw on the back one of one them. Dead, Jim. ]
no subject
They recognize that voice, though. They fight through the haze of Craft exhaustion, trying to limply roll over onto their back. Doesn't help with the killer migraine, but they can... kind of make out what they think is a person.
Also a dog. Not gonna question why a dog is here, but they'll think the grave is funny later, probably.]
Researcher. [patting themselves on the back later for not slipping up and saying Odile] She needs a healer. Please.
[not them, though, they're totally fine]
no subject
Until Loop finally finds it within themselves to speak, then the dog throws it's head back like HOLY MOLY IT LIVES. Double paw stomp in excitement right on you. SORRY HE THOUGHT YOU SMELLED DEAD. HAHA.
No, the other one doesn't need a healer tho. Super dead. Smells like bread and dead. ]
no subject
Timekeeper is unresponsive, but she appears to still be breathing, at least.]
no subject
Stop that.
[ She gives the dog a gentle rub on the head, then tilts her hand to push his head away from the two injured people. ]
I'm taking her first, but only because you're conscious and she isn't. Don't think you're getting out of seeing a healer too.
no subject
This means tho that he's going to jump and chase the Cog to try and catch it. If he does? Hold gently, tail wagging, before beginning to trot away rapidly with it. ]
no subject
...
Doesn't seem like they'll be left here to rot, though. Not sure how to feel about that yet. Is the Researcher normally this kind to strangers?
They sigh, closing their eyes. Makes them a little less dizzy.]
I'll be here if you need me. [They're not going anywhere on their own, so ???? she can do what she wants... maybe she'll change her mind after taking Timekeeper back, or send Pure Vanilla to get them or something. They'll be fine.]
no subject
...Yeah, many clunking, whirring, grinding sounds of protest can be heard following them as the dog trots off with Cog in its mouth.]
no subject
...Don't die before I get back.
[ Her hand is being forced a bit here, as far as triage goes, but she is going to be furious if Loop dies.
She doesn't wait for a response before heading towards medical care as quickly as she can with an unconscious cookie-person draped over her back.
It's several long minutes before she returns. Perhaps Loop will be flattered to note that she is running. ]
Your turn, Strange One.
no subject
Glad you're getting some exercise, Researcher. [They know she doesn't like running, so it is kind of flattering... a bitter part of them is surprised she came back at all, but. It's a nice surprise. They can pretend it means something, even if they know it probably doesn't.] I... may need some help getting up.
[... bit of an understatement. Everything is sore and they feel impossibly tired. They're not sure if they can stand, but they can... try?
They're relatively free of injuries, at least, aside from a few nicks and bruises from when they were captured earlier today. The tips of their fingers have gone slightly translucent, though. It'll go away once they've rested up, but no one here knows that yet.]
no subject
[ She keeps having to go outside, and so often that ends in running.
She offers a hand, bracing her other against her knee in anticipation of doing 90% of the work of getting them to their feet. The transparency of their fingertips is worrying, but... She doesn't even know what they are. Maybe that's perfectly normal. ]
Come on, then. I hope I don't have to carry you on my back as well.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)