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

A Card Game

[charlastan]

[Listen, just because Stan has cheated once or twice or a dozen times before doesn't mean he's cheating now. Because, half the fun is cheating! It keeps things interesting, and keeps all the old men in town sharp. He absolutely would tease him for taking too long though and has before - "C'mon Percy, we don't have all year!". There's never any malice to it, just friendly ribbing between opponents.

Before he can open his mouth though, Percival calls. Stan looks thoughtfully at his hand, and then at his opponent. Then, smoothly, he spreads his hand out in front of him: four sixes (one of each suit, if they're being scrutinized closely), and an otherwise useless Jack.]

Well? You got anything good, Percy?

[He'll have to pull off something pretty good - Stan's hand is a little tough to beat. Not impossible, of course, but it's when you play the impossibly hard to beat hands all the time that people get all uppity about cheating.

...Not that he's cheating. Who said he was cheating?!]

[purevanillacookie]

[ Percy says you're cheating, you old fart.

And with four sixes, he truly suspects he is, but it's just shy of something that would be considered cheating. With a soft humph! he lays out his two pair. Bested. ]

If I didn't know you of a man of such good integrity, Stan, I would believe you cheating.

[ The tone of voice says he can't call him out and it's frustrating. He could tell the other to turn everything out, but really! ]

[charlastan]

What! Cheating?

[Stan scoffs - or pretends to, at least.]

I've never cheated a day in my life!

[This is objectively not true and he has been caught cheating in the past at other things. He's having fun though, and he laughs.]

So, you up for another round, or are you all poker'd out for the night?

[purevanillacookie]

[ That makes him scoff in return, but he's smiling around his irritation. ]

And I'm secretly a Fae-lord in disguise. My friend, I am quite sure you came out of the womb cheating.

[ He settles himself back, raising a hand to rub at his eyes with his fingers, shaking his head. ]

And put myself into further debt?

[ A pause... a sigh. ]

Oh, deal up another round. And please, turn out all the cards in your sleeves!

[charlastan]

[Stan laughs loud at that. Percy's not wrong!]

You'd make a terrible Fae-lord, y'know. Those guys are terrible at being humble. Even in a disguise you can spot 'em a mile away!

[Is that a compliment? Unclear! But he's friendly enough when he says it, so it seems like he thinks it's one.

Stan's reaching for the cards when Percy tells him to turn out his sleeves. He looks mock offended for a moment, but then rolls his eyes and starts taking things out of his sleeves with a heavy sigh:

• 6 of diamonds (that he already smuggled back into his sleeve from the previous round)
• 6 of spades
• 6 of...what seems to be a made-up suit with a fish symbol?
• 6 of clubs
• King of...Stans? With a hand-drawn picture of himself?
• Queen of Mabels, a glitter-covered card that's bent with age. It's already flaking onto the table.

He raises an eyebrow at Percy. There, you happy now?]

[purevanillacookie]

[ That makes him scoff, but he's smiling, his nose wrinkling as he pulls his glasses back out to put them on to look at the cards Stan begins doling out. ]

Oh, I'm sure I could be egotistical too!

[ He picks up the Six of ... Fish? The King of Stans, and he leaves the Queen of Mabel, though he really wishes Stan would let him preserve it so it stops flaking.

He holds the two cards up, eyebrow arched. ]

And these are supposed to do...?

[ The extra sixes get confiscated, however, and put aside. He highly doubts this is ALL his friend has but they would be here all day if he demanded he shake. ]

[charlastan]

Ha! You don't have an egotistical bone in your whole body!

[As for the cards, well...Stan shrugs, as though they aren't totally bizarre choices.]

Wildcards?

[As if Percy would have just accepted Stan laying down a weird wildcard or two. He does take back the Queen of Mabel though, and sticks it back up his sleeve for safe keeping.]

[purevanillacookie]

Oh, the sweetest words.

[ He laughs and shrugs, handing the cards back over. Wildcards for Poker, sure why not. ]

All right... use them. If you use them and sell it to me why that particular card works in that space, I won't jab you with my cane.

[ He picks up said cane to point it menacingly at Stans shin. ]

If you fail, the last round is void, and I get to go back to Lily and Dom with some money still in my pocket.

[charlastan]

[Stan snickers. Oh, he's so afraid of that cane after basically telling Percy he's the nicest guy he knows. But Stan's genuinely lit up with a smile too. He loves a challenge, and this sounds just as fun as cheating the old-fashioned way.]

You're on! This'll be a piece of cake!

[Stan's always been great at talking himself into and out of trouble. This is just a fun extension of that!]

[purevanillacookie]

[ Hey! HEY! He might be able to whack Stan without then immediately feeling bad for it. Maybe. Probably not. But it's the thought that counts? He sets his cane back and settles in. ]

All right, shuffle us up. This is the last round, though!

[ Because Stan cleans him out all the time. As Stan does that, Percy will shove the pot over to the other man and pout at his dwindling collection.

He really truly hopes Stan isn't able to convince him of shit.

But he also knows he probably will. ]