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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
Only a few hours. Dipper's been here a while though - he found me twenty minutes ago and was gonna explain, but then we got sidetracked with the whole "Mabel might be a cursed tea pot" thing.
[You know, as you do. He gestures for them all to come with him to sit at the table though, with their coffee and their hot Mabel juice. He'll pour and slide a cup over to Ford to peek at while everyone's getting settled, so he can see that it's definitely glittery and full of choking-hazard-sized plastic dinosaurs (in order to fit through the spout).]
no subject
It's been a few months. It's September now, and I got here back in May, I think.
[His birthday was yesterday, is what he is absolutely not going to say.]
The Grove is a little town that got absolutely obliterated by an entity centuries ago that you will hear referred to by a bunch of names. The fallen sun, the false god, the black sun- that's because names are power, and referring to it as something concrete could in fact, give it power. So, insult it, call it something different every chance you get. That jerk is the reason we're here.
It's possessing the entire forest, and the forest around us is dangerous. There's a fog wall covering chunks of it, please don't touch the fog wall. Going into the forest alone without a means to see true paths will also get you lost and killed. We've lost people that way, so please be careful.
[Look, sorry you guys, but Dipper knows you both and he knows Ford absolutely would touch the fog wall without warning.]
As for the reason we got dragged here, it comes down to when the town got taken out. Heimr and Ydalir, did a ritual to try and stop the fallen sun from taking the souls of the townspeople by expelling them out to be reincarnated. It only worked so well, and now we're getting dragged back by the entity to be messed with because its a sadistic creep.
no subject
He listens closely to Dipper's explanation of the town, looking incredibly intrigued at the mention of this fog wall and then immediately chastised when Dipper gives out his pointed warning. What really holds his interest, however, is the explanation of how and why they're here. ]
Hmm... Are we supposedly the direct reincarnations of these people?
[ Finally, Ford knocks back his share of the Mabel juice, and somehow doesn't choke on the dinosaurs in the process. ]
no subject
Heh. I'll have to come up with some good ones.
[Stan skips the Mabel juice because even his sweet tooth has limits. He'll stick with his sugary coffee, thanks. They've been away from it for a minute though, so he cups the mug in his hands and lights a small flame right there at the table.
He doesn't jump in right away - weird gods messing with them is nothing new after all, and they've even had to deal with dangerous fog before. New shit, different presentation, right?
But for once he catches the same point of interest that Ford does.]
...You're kidding. I'm seriously supposed to believe I had a past life here?
[He knows that Dipper wouldn't lie to them, he does, but the believability line has to be drawn somewhere. At least turning into a squid was something he could feel for himself, a change he could see. This is just...
...Well. It's telling him yet another thing he doesn't remember about himself.]
no subject
[The same goes for explaining Suri in a way he knew Stan would enjoy and also be invested in, and so he is pleased that that fucker is going to rue the day he decided to bring in more Pines, if just for this.]
[He nods, happy with this as they both get to the weirdest part of their situation. The questions and incredulousness is not unexpected, and is frankly, refreshing. He sighs.]
So, I don't think we have confirmation that there's a single short line from the Grove Pines and us and there could have been more in between, but it does seem like it is us and not ...the um, version of ourselves back in Gravity Falls that might still be there. How that works, I haven't figured out. I actually thought maybe me being here had been a mistake, but since it's grabbed both of you two, then I guess no, actually, maybe it wasn't.
[That's all pretty technical and mostly aimed at Ford, to Stan Dipper turns and offers-]
No, I know, it sounds crazy, even to me. And while I've been given "proof" a few times, that sort of thing can still be fabricated super easily just based on the stuff we've dealt with in Trench and Deerington. I'm not saying this is definitive, but it's the prevailing accepted theory and there's evidence behind it.
[A pause.]
One piece of evidence is our house. Which I found. It's a little outside of town and I'd like to show it to you guys.
no subject
[ Ford thinks back to the conversation he had with Bill all the way back in Deerington and immediately gets a headache. They never confirmed if Bill was right, but even if he was it doesn't change the material facts of the situation. ]
Julia was always capable of reaching far beyond the boundaries of her own dimension, and there were always dimensional and temporal instabilities in Trench. Given those two facts and the breadth of Mariana's domain, I don't think this reincarnation hypothesis impossible. Even if it's true, it doesn't necessarily mean we originated here. For all we know, reincarnating in alternate dimensions is what's actually going on when a Sleeper is trapped as a squid after death.
[ Damn, he really wants to go to Trench's library and start digging now—but, of course, that's not an option. ]
... Wait, did you say a house?
no subject
That being said, he does care about Ford's assessment of the situation, both in terms of him having more expertise and in terms of not wanting them to fall into some sort of interdimensional scam here. And he seems...open to it but appropriately unsure? That's good enough for Stan.]
What, like the Shack? The Bone Fortress?
[They've had a few homes in the last couple years, and if Dipper's saying with certainty that it's their house, it's probably one of them - or at least close to it.]
Okay, so. There's a house. We should prolly see the house. What's the other proof?
[He isn't aggressive or anything, just gruff and trying to get to the bottom to whatever their fresh new hell is.]
no subject
[Luckily he's going to a Goddess summoning party later this month!]
It looks a lot like the Shack but- [He makes a thoughtful noise.] Something about it was weirdly familiar in a way I was having a hard time putting my finger on until recently. So, years ago Mabel and I got our hands on a time machine and we jumped around a lot in quick succession through a few points in time. One of them was the Shack but it was the dead of winter, and it didn't look like the Shack at all. I'm guessing it must have been before Grunkle Ford went through the portal. That's what it reminds me of.
[And also, it's missing a few walls, its partially burned, and covered in claw marks, but they'll get there. Dipper doesn't take Stan's tone as anything other than him being pragmatic which Dipper actually appreciates.]
The other proof is a memory I got.
[For that, Dipper closes his eyes and that's the warning his uncles get before reality shifts around them. Colors slowly drain out and the scenery warps, forming something new. As color slowly returns, they will find themselves outside by a river bank. The weather is pleasant, the sun is warm, and everything around them seems full of life.]
[Mabel runs past them, she's maybe seven or eight years old, dressed in something a little old fashioned, but not too out of place from Trench, just much brighter.]
"Dipper!"
no subject
Instead he stays silent as he watches the memory play out. That's definitely them, and their apparent dynamic is... well, it's definitely similar to their own, but distinctly different in the way he's come to expect from alternate dimensions. It's them, but it's not them, in a way that only a group that's actually them-but-not-them could be.
It's a weirdly emotional moment, and he doesn't really know what to say. So what he settles on is: ]
I wonder what the coins are...
no subject
[Any similarities to their supposed past selves are unintentional. It's just what they would naturally ask, who they fundamentally are as people, and in a way that confirms it better than anything else could.
That being said, Stan's still not ready to just accept it. That kind of stuff can be manipulated and messed with, obviously. But...it's weird, seeing himself with the kids so young. It's weird seeing Ford by his side at that time, like nothing ever happened between them at all. He catches himself looking Ford's way and then abruptly realizes he's being weird and looks away, getting back to the point.]
So! You said the Shack's here? Or, uh. Whatever we're calling the Past Shack? That's probably our best bet from here. If it's a whole house there's gotta be concrete stuff around.
[After all, they've learned memories can be messed with, erased, manipulated, but it would take a lot to make an entire house with evidence that a whole family lived there once.]
no subject
[Still, this is the first time he's played it back like this, and those feelings are still there, but this time he manages not to let it overwhelm him like it did the first time.]
[As the memory ends, the world fades out for a moment before bringing them back to the Inn.]
Yeah.
[He busies his hands with pouring himself another cup of black coffee.]
There's a lot, actually. While it's sort of in ruins, a lot survived. You'll see what I mean when we get there.
[He knocks back the cup and stands up, nodding his head to the door.]
Let's get going, it's not too far of a walk.