EVENT 021

[sticksandbonesmods]

Feeding from the Ocean

Solitary Voyage

The first light of dawn does not come this morning. The moonlight outside continues to cast its muted glow over the Grove, still high in the sky. No matter how long you wait, no matter how many minutes or hours slip by, the darkness remains, and the silvery sentinel refuses to yield to the sun. It also appears bigger than usual, its surface etched with shadows that seem to pulse with a life of their own, and you swear there weren't this many stars peppering the night sky last night.

Despite the oppressive night that looms above, there’s an odd sense of calm. No werewolves prowl the streets, no ominous howls echo through the trees, or other dangers that usually seem to threaten the Grove. In fact, it's not making it more cold than usual, either. The ice on the river, once a solid barrier, begins to chip away, revealing glimmers of water beneath, giving new life to the creatures that call it home. A handful of the baby Seaborn even flop out of the water to explore the world, as if it's entirely new to them and hasn't only been a month since they've been unable to be on solid ground.

The only thing that the perpetual night seems to be affecting is the local wildlife. Disoriented and confused, they flit about in a daze, their natural rhythms thrown into chaos. The diurnal creatures now wander aimlessly with their instincts dulled. Someone should probably feed these poor critters before they forget how to forage for themselves.

The Grove also seems to be sans one sea jelly. Hope no one booked their therapy appointment this month.

The Reef is Immortal

It was the loud creaking that caught your attention first, a sound that reverberated through the ground like the groan of a ship caught in a storm. There's a... tree? Or, wait, no. That can't be right. It's colossal, easily taller than the supposed "limit" of the sky barrier, but it's also... blue? There's a smattering of bioluminescent patches that give a white glow, especially under the pale moonlight. The "branches" swayed unnaturally, each one moving independently, like a thousand skeletal fingers reaching for the heavens.

With the coming of this "tree" also comes something some of you may be familiar with - the Nethersea Brand. It's a blue, web-like membrane that more resembles flesh than what anyone would like to admit. Contact with the membrane is not recommended as it invokes a creeping dread that gnaws at the edges of your mind and locks your muscles and bones. It wears off... eventually, but if you don't get out of it in time it'll continue to chew at your nervous system.

It is not localized like it was last time, either. It spreads and expands to cover all of the Grove more and more with each moment, every hour swallowing more and more land, with just a few exceptions. One, the Inn's lobby, which is protected by the Inquistion's Fireplace inside. And two... surprisingly, the River and its banks, where the Guardians (and the Behemoth) seem to be taking solace from the threat.

The baby Seaborn are not aware of many things, but they are at least cognizant that some of you don't seem to do well in the Brand, with some control over what it covers. If you're by the river, they seem to be able to control the brand just enough to free you, chirping in an innocent manner. You do not know what they are saying, but you can imagine it's something along the lines of "Hi! What doing!" There's less of them in the river currently, but the few that are around are nesting on Moder or following Sinann around. They do not sense the distress. They are just babies.

The Mass of Sorrow

The sensation of being trapped in the web-like brand is suffocating, a foreign sensation of the boundaries that have been blurred between your identity and the collective consciousness of others. Each time you succumb to the nervous impairment, it feels like you’re slipping through a veil, where the lines between your thoughts and those of others dissolve into a swirling mass of emotions and memories.

You can’t shake the feeling of grief that lingers in your chest, a weight that seems to grow heavier with each passing moment. It’s as if you’re mourning something you can’t quite grasp—perhaps the remnants of your own past, or the fragments of lives that are not your own. When you finally come to again, rising up from the brand to attempt to move again, you'll notice you have tear stains against your face you don't remember crying.

It's not easy to escape the brand, either. Between the rough terrain flesh-y webs make and the way it slowly neutralizes your nerves, it's a wonder you can keep moving at all. But more than that, there's this... voice...

"Embrace... Our Warmth..."

In short moments of clarity, you remember... dreaming? Remembering? Commiserating...? Something. Whatever the case, you were in someone's mind. Maybe your own. Maybe someone else's. Maybe even something from the forest - the brand is taking all prisoner, after all.

Best hope We Many doesn't share anything you don't want anyone to see, because it doesn't seem like you get much of a choice.

Elegy of the Outliers

Those holed up inside are not entirely forgotten. While the warmth of the fireplace and the kin of the river may keep the brand at bay, the persistent weight of grief and sadness still reaches those within. It is the curse of an ancient being long gone, a sorrow that lingers like a scar. Yet, this sorrow can be softened by the company of those around you. Distractions, warmth, and togetherness serve as reminders that collaboration is, as always, the answer.

Gazing out at the brand, one will notice shadows moving along the fleshy web—shadows that seem hauntingly familiar. Loved ones move through the Grove as if it has come alive again, as if the threat of an obsessed, fallen deity has vanished, and things have reached some form of normalcy once again.

Upon closer inspection, the observant may discern that these are not true apparitions, but rather the brand's way of storing memories within We Many's consciousness. It is a surreal experience, reliving moments through the Seaborn that drift freely about. This phenomenon is both unsettling and captivating—perhaps it could even make for compelling television while you remain trapped inside. Yet, the sight of a loved one, even as a mere shadow, may also be overwhelming, pulling you away from your current sanctuary.

Be careful out there.

Spark Notes

summary

Solitary Voyage is this moon's journey. The expected dawn fails to arrive, leaving the Grove shrouded in an unusual, persistent moonlight. While the darkness disrupts the local wildlife, causing confusion and disorientation, it also brings life to the river as baby Seaborn venture out.

The Reef is Immortal, bringing forth a colossal, bioluminescent "tree" in the Grove, accompanied by the spreading menace of the Nethersea Brand, a blue, web-like membrane that induces paralysis upon contact. While the Brand expands across the land, the Inn's lobby remains safe, and the baby Seaborn near the river seem to possess a surprising ability to help free those ensnared by the Brand, blissfully unaware of the surrounding danger.

The Mass of Sorrow is the experience of being ensnared in the Nethersea Brand. Personal identity blurs with the collective consciousness, leading to overwhelming grief and confusion as emotions and memories intertwine.

Elegy of the Outliers, or those sheltered from the Nethersea Brand, still feel the Arbor's weight of grief and sadness, a lingering curse that can be eased by the warmth and companionship of others. As shadows resembling loved ones move through the brand, it becomes clear that these are not true apparitions but memories stored within We Many's consciousness.

out of character

This month's event has been written entirely by Rubie! Please be nice and say thank you Rubie! Enjoy your memory shares and your eldritch horrors, and remember that questions asked should be asked in public channels and not DMs if they're related to this month's event. Have fun!

updates

Any potential updates, such as characters damaging something important or whatever else, will be put here.

submissions

❖ Questions
❖ February Plotting
❖ Past Life Plotting (Closed to Game Members)
❖ Investigations

code

Comments

[eidxiety]

[aaaaaaAAAAAAAAA—

Ain peeks out between his fingers at Livio, breathes a sigh, and slouches back onto the couch. God, he's so cute. This is so not fucking fair.]

No, no, nothing's wrong, Liv... [His face sure is red, though.] I'm, uh, a little — um... oh, I feel bad, since Miss Melanie always lets me in even though I don't really contribute, that's all.

[Girl.]

[livlaughlove]

[oh... well, he drops the sad eyes in favor of a look a bit more sympathetic, less outright worried.]

That? I get it... [he lowers his voice, so she doesn't hear. (she's mom, she always hears.)] I don't feel like I do enough for her, either. [and his regular, still gentle tone again.] But she says not to think about it like that. That you don't gotta have a "use" to deserve food or a bed.

[eidxiety]

[Somewhere, waking-world Ain is hearing "you don't have to have a use to deserve food or a bed" and he's going mmhm, mmhmm sounds fake, and tossing all that out into the trash.

Current Ain is lying his ass off, though, and has no such issues with being a waste of space so long as someone will provide him space to waste. And for what it's worth, he will do chores when he's over, and he generally doesn't make a mess, just... y'know, lies of convenience and all.

He looks at his guitar case and breathes a sigh, tentatively placing a hand over Livio's before he tries to steal it back and return to being incredibly repressed about all of this.]

Haha... then I'm sure she wouldn't mind me being annoying with my guitar real quick, then...

["Real quick" he says, like he's not secretly hoping this goes extremely well and he gets to hold a boy's hand before marriage. You know, like he tried to do a second ago.]

[livlaughlove]

[literally same for livio tbh.

at the precise time that ain and livio have exactly half a second of hand holding, there's a "blech" sound from the hallway entrance then the patter of retreating feet. livio promptly shoves his hands back in his own lap, under the multiple layers of embarrassment. embarrassment ogre.]

Annoying? You're not annoying. [anymore--

livio blinks, though, as if noticing the guitar for the first time.]

[eidxiety]

[Ope— yeah, of course, how could Ain have forgotten that there's kids here, and that kids are nosey?]

You're just saying that. [He knows how he is! He's obnoxious! He's just not homophobic anymore. Or in a cult! Character development moments.] I, uh... I wrote a song. Finally. I know I kept telling people I was working on it, and I got it done last night.

[livlaughlove]

[don't worry, ain, that's just his little sister. she promises she's "ew"ing because you're making eyes at livio specifically, not because you're both boys.

stronger than his embarrassment is his concern for ain, so he snaps back up pretty quick.]

No, I'm not just sayin'! I really like bein' around you!! [aaand right back to being shy. a bit flummoxed, even. he feels his face steadily warming up...] You wrote one? Yourself?? [livio doesn't have a creative bone in his body. he can't imagine just conjuring that shit out of thin air.]

[eidxiety]

[The way Ain goes red... Ough Livio he's so so into you, help.]

Um... I like being around you too. A lot, actually. Uh— but yeah, I wrote a song. I've been working on it for a little while. The melody came to me, but not the words, for the longest time. I'm not really a wordsmith.

[He pats the top of the case, drumming his nails across it. Nervous... too nervous.]

It's, um. It's dedicated to you.

[livlaughlove]

[oh, yep, he's red as can be.]

Me? [it comes out as a squeak. he, a livio, does not deserve this...

and yet, he sits back and looks up at ain expectantly, like a kindergartener at storytime.]

[eidxiety]

Yeah, you.

[Hurriedly, he sets the case flat on the floor and pops it open, taking out a fairly well-loved acoustic guitar. The finish on the wood is a bit scratched around the tuning pegs and the bridge, but it's otherwise in perfect condition.]

Please be tuned...

[He tuned it earlier, of course, but what if he didn't... he plucks an experimental chord or five and decides that it's good, and prays to the Gods that it doesn't go out of tune.

After that, since he has the song memorized, he leans down and grabs the loose sheet music from the case and hands it to Livio.]

Here, uh. It's— s-so you can follow along if you want.

[Ain takes a deep breath, breathes out slowly, takes another... and starts to sing.]

obligatory sorry i died

[livlaughlove]

[ohhh... between the dreamy melody and ain's soft voice, livio doens't stand a chance fighting back the cliche feeling of butterflies. he can only look up at ain for so long, everything above his collar feeling fit to spontaneously combust. the sheet music is the perfect excuse to look down, though if ain is paying attention, he'll see that despite his embarrassment, livio is smiling so wide it might hurt.

he's quiet for a moment after ain finishes, still a little too shy to look up at him.]

You're -- [his voice cracks, and he gives a short, mortified laugh.] -- really sweet. [... another laugh, not so muffled, and he chances a glance back up at ain.] I didn't mean -- it's a pun, but I didn't mean it to be. But you are! So... I stand by it. You're real sweet, Ain. Thank you...

obligatory no i love u

[eidxiety]

[Wheeze. Well, he has the jitters now, and his guitar seems to have gone slightly out of tune while he was finishing the song up, so that's nice. So much for his perfect idea of a confession GOSH!!

Despite himself, he laughs in turn, idly drumming his nails against the instrument.]

Aha, I... I really like you. Like— really like. ...Sorry to put you on the spot like that.

[livlaughlove]

[your perfect idea was not ruined, ain, you're both just flustered shy boys and it's very cute. livio thinks you're cute. like, really cute. cute enough that it takes his brain a few seconds to catch up even though ain literally just sang him a song about being into him. once more, he can't even meet ain's eyes, instead staring extremely intently at the fingers on his guitar.]

M-me? [broken record, over here.] Don't -- don't be sorry! I really [can his voice PLEASE stop cracking, jesus christ] -- like you, too...

[eidxiety]

H-haha... uh.

[Oh you two are So delightfully awkward. How many kids are poking their heads out around the corner now to watch these two disasters?]

W-we should... maybe, if you wanted to... you can say no! But we should... go out to dinner some time maybe...

[livlaughlove]

[don't worry about it. they're only going to laugh at you two for the rest of your short lives. your very, very short, doomed lives.]

'course I want to! [livio's social anxiety and embarrassment is overriden by his need to appease ain, it seems. not that he's complaining. whatever it takes to break out of his shell, especially if it's for someone else's benefit.] I'd go with you whenever. Right now, even! [why did he say that. he hasn't showered yet today. his hair is a mess. he's probably been crying on reflex.]