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

[lupusxylem]

[HA...HAHA...at least they're safe, for now.

Nick is still smirking like a Cheshire cat as they go downstairs to join the rest of the family, with Nick thumping down behind Asher as he makes a bee-line for the kitchen table. Thank God for Lena, honestly.]

Morning. Yeah, sorry Len, can't stay long.

[It's Nick's turn to give her a one-armed hug before grabbing his own pancake to go, walking around the table to take his seat by Asher (but not before giving each of the kids a kiss as he passes them).]

Hope you guys like fresh eggs, cause we're 'boutta have a ton of 'em.

[thebladebringstheflame]

[The kids are various mixes of surprised and confused. Podenco, as one of the older ones, is pretty smart and sort of Onto Them, but doesn't say anything. Asher can tell by the look in her eyes that she's got them figured out. Lena, too, has them clocked as the only fellow responsible adult here.

Lisa and Popukar, though, very much voice that they think the boys are going to the market to not only get wood, but also to get food. Which makes sense, because right now they ate all the eggs in the fridge, so like... yeah, dad and papa are going out to get eggs. But why a ton of them...

While the girls spectate on how many eggs is "a ton" (Lisa suggests "at least a hundred"), Asher Very Maturely steals a sausage link off of Nick's plate that Lena had so nicely set up for him. Rude-ass.]

[lupusxylem]

[Listen maybe their chickens WILL lay at least a hundred eggs, you don't know.

Nick, meanwhile, makes a mockingly affronted sound when Asher steals one of his sausages, prompting him to pull his plate closer to himself.]

Oi. I'm the one who needs more meat on his bones, not you.

[thebladebringstheflame]

[He'll be nice and swap it for a piece of bacon while the kids giggle.]

You're gonna have to get better at stealing, papa-bear. [Gross.] I'll throw you a bone this time.

[You're DISGUSTING you two are NASTY ICKY. Shamare is ROLLING HER EYES.]

[lupusxylem]

[One of Nick's favorite past-times is being gross enough to make the kids be all EW COOTIES about it. It's hilarious.

Which is why Nick will lean across the corner of the table and kiss the bridge of Asher's nose as a thank you before biting that piece of bacon in half.]

Oooh papa-bear, I like that one. Use that one more.

[I'm so sorry they will be leaving soon-]

[thebladebringstheflame]

[And so the boys flirt over breakfast, because they're disgusting... everyone eats their fill, though (Asher winds up finishing some of Lisa's food when she gets full a bit earlier), and then it's off to the markets with them.

For normal men who are not Jacked like these two, moving a shitton of lumber would be an impossible task without a wagon or something. For Asher, it's just a matter of lumping all of it on his shoulders and holding it all precariously stacked high overhead, the Herculean task of actually moving this much wood from place to place hardly daunting to him.

They'll make it back to their yard eventually, and then Asher will toe the gate aside and trek his way to the back, where there's an empty-enough patch they can set stuff down.]

Alright. ...we probably should've drawn out blueprints or something first, but I think I have an idea of how this should look.

[He's wandering off to the shed to go get tools now.]

[lupusxylem]

Fuck it, we don't need blueprints. We've winged shit before and it was fine.

[You should NOT be winging building a literal structure but okay whatever you do you-

Nick will help heft the lumber over to where Asher indicates though, huffing and wiping sweat off his brow while Asher disappears into the shed to grab their tools.]

We just need to figure out where the coop'll sit, and then mark out where we want the fenced-in part from there. There's plenty'a room back here in the yard for it.

[thebladebringstheflame]

[Well he didn't marry Nick for his planning skills, that's for sure.

Asher emerges from the shed with two hammers, a drill, and a hand saw. He'll put them down, then disappear back inside to drag out the stand they'll be cutting the wood down to size on. Only then does he finally respond to Nick, patting his back pockets as he does when he realises he didn't grab any pencils or tape measures. Sigh.]

We could use that patch of dirt along the east side of our fenceline where I couldn't get shit to grow last summer. I think that soil is cursed.

[Realistically it's just low-quality and Asher didn't have the patience last summer to deal with it. Probably for the best, because now it can be a building for chickens.

He's gonna go back into the shed to grab the pencils and tape measure now.]

[lupusxylem]

You watch, the second we put chickens on that dirt it's gonna start growin' flowers n'shit.

[Well, most likely not with chickens stomping all over it, but you never know! Asher is the plant doctor, not him.

By the time he returns with the pencils and tape measure, Nick is hefting one of the hammers in his hand because of course he is, like you don't even need that yet.]

We got any idea how many chickens we want this coop to hold?

[thebladebringstheflame]

Fuck, we're gonna be eating eggs for the rest of our lives daily if we get too many. One rooster, four hens? If we need more, we can get more. [But he doubts they're gonna need more.] We've gotta have laying areas for the hens, and the rooster's gonna need space...

[Math is mathing right now, he's marking out an area as they speak.]

[lupusxylem]

C'mooon. You say that like it's a bad thing. I could eat eggs for the rest of my life daily. Don't be a coward.

[He flips the hammer once, then decides to not do it again in the event he accidentally drops the damn thing on his foot and ruins their whole day.]

But sure, I'm fine with that. We'll have enough eggs for us and to hand 'em out around town.