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

[succiduous]

[Everyone in this tl is getting Gnosis at age like 20 here. Good Lord.

The thing about Gnosis being Sloshed at this party is that he is completely 100% faking it, and doing a damn good job at it. Like this (gestures) is the face he can make On Command so you know Enciodes is Dying. Local Enciodes is actually inside bargaining with the snobby Victorian politicians right now, but y'know.

Trying to keep up the act so the remaining partygoers and guards outside can just roll their eyes at them, Gnosis leans heavily into Wolfwood's side and clutches the bottle tighter.]

M'not thaaaat fucked up. You're— [and then he cants forward, "nearly" "tripping",] you're—

[Hiccups.]

[lupusxylem]

I'm? Basically the designated-driver here? Yeah.

[Gnosis is fortunate that Wolfwood hasn't really been drinking (he's smoking though, because of course he is) and is able to keep them both steady, though who's really winning here when Wolfwood has been completely fooled by Gnosis' act?]

And here I thought some fresh air would sober you up, not make you worse.

[succiduous]

I'm not worse. [You're "worse".] It's a— it'sh a party! You're sh— [hiccups] shhhpos'ta drink.

[The wine is like, not even that strong by the way. Gnosis has always been pathetic with liquor, something he knows, and that's why he's acting it up.

Meanwhile, the guards out in the garden here — ones that need to be disposed of properly so that Degenbrecher, who's lurking nearby, can to Enciodes and the Duke inside and upstairs — are scoffing. Fucking drunk-asses.]

[lupusxylem]

[They'd really be selling it if Wolfwood were actually as drunk as Gnosis, or- barring that- in on the plan so he could pretend, but maybe it's for the best he doesn't know. Gnosis is good enough at pretending that Wolfwood isn't any the wiser anyway, so. So far so good!

His eyes slide over to the guards as he hears them scoff, growling under his breath. Assholes.]

Sure you are, but not the entire damn liquor cabinet. How much have you even had?

[succiduous]

[can GET to* jesus christ

Gnosis hiccups.]

A lot, [he emphasises, somehow managing to slur that out as well. "A lotsch" is probably more like it.] Unghh... let's go over there... n sit.

[Over there, he points to with the bottom of the bottle. It's by some guards, but there's nowhere really to sit. Maybe he just wants to sit on the ground?]

[lupusxylem]

A lot...

[Well that tells him nothing and everything at the same time. Wolfwood figures he's going to be babysitting the guy for the evening, but that's fine. Not like he was doing anything but coming out here to get away from the rest of the party...

He'll help Gnosis over to where he was indicating, though yeah there really isn't anywhere good to sit here. There's no garden bench or anything, for sure, so Wolfwood kindof...brings him near to the grass? Will this work.]

Don't sit straight on the concrete, you'll regret it later.

[succiduous]

[As they're passing by this spot and headed out to sit probably in the grass, some of the guards scoff at them. "It's just some drunken nobles," they say, in heavy Victorian accents, "just get rid of them, don't make any extra trouble." Gnosis, naturally, hears this, yet he continues to fake drunk as he wheels around to — what else? — yell at them.]

Weren't you the guy checking invitations at the door?! Everyone else got in right away, but we Kjeragians had to wait forever! If you're looking down on us, just come out and say so! Hey! Look at me!

[The guards are... baffled. Gnosis has fully wheeled away from Wolfwood now, and a careful eye might spot him uncork the wine that he's been pretending to drink, as well as flip a lit cigar in his fingers. Hm.]

Hm. On closer inspection, [no longer said with a drunken slur, if Wolfwood is paying attention at all,] you don't really look like that guard from the door. Hmph, well, you're all the same anyway. Using your power to pick on others, no redeeming qualities at all!

[And then, just as the guard gets pissed off and strikes at him, Gnosis pivots elegantly to the side and splashes the "wine" on him, flips that cigar, and lights the man on fire.]

[lupusxylem]

[While this is going on, Wolfwood is watching Gnosis very carefully. Mostly because the moment the Liberi turns on the guards, he's immediately concerned he's going to, like. Try to drunkenly fistfight them and get them fucking kicked out, which would definitely not make Enciodes happy. Which means yes, he does notice the way he uncorks the wine, which initially he just assumes means he's going to drink more, but then he...he uh.

Hm. Something is happening, suddenly, and Wolfwood unfortunately is too slow to fully catch on before Gnosis has fucking lit a man on fire.]

Fuck-!!

[He startles, holding an arm up as the guy quite literally goes up in flames, or at least the part of his clothing that was doused does. It prompts Wolfwood to reach out and grab Gnosis by the shoulder to pull him back slightly, less to stop him and more to prepare them both to fucking run because what the fuck why would you do that hello-]

The hell?!

[succiduous]

[Turns out, Gnosis is not fucking drunk at all! He is, in fact... mildly murderous? A man is screaming and on fire in front of him, and Wolfwood is tugging on him, but another shoulder claps a hand on Wolfwood's and sort of nudges him a half-step back.

The person in question is a blonde Caprinae woman who looks equally sadistic as Gnosis and speaks with a thick Leithanien (German) accent.]

Nice work. Enciodes is sure to have noticed a signal like that.

[Pat pat. Gnosis wheels on her immediately, frustrated.]

I gave you so many openings. Why would you...

Sneak attacks aren't my style. Plus, it's much too troublesome to take them out one at a time.

[And he facepalms, because of course he does, and looks over at Wolfwood like "do you see this shit, do you see how this woman I've known for about 2 hours treats me"... and meanwhile Degenbrecher herself is off to beat the shit out of some guards.

Yeah hi Wolfwood you're experiencing Not Actually A Party.]

[lupusxylem]

[Meanwhile Wolfwood over here, BAFFLED:]

Were you just not gonna tell me 'bout any of that!?

[While Degenbrecher is just /beating up guards noises in the background]

Th'fuck's even goin' on here??

[succiduous]

[Sounds of Degenbrecher doing that thing she does (breaking men's spines)

Gnosis is fixing his suit jacket right now, so he's clearly fine.]

With your loud mouth? No, I wasn't particularly inclined to do so. This is a business call more than a social call.

[(whomp) (slap) (bam) (punch) etc]

[lupusxylem]

[Wolfwood clicks his tongue.]

I take offense to that. I don't go 'round spoutin' off shit that needs to be kept secret.

[And also!! He isn't drunk!! Even though he could have, he actually hasn't been drinking any alcohol, for once.]

So the business is fuckin' beatin' the shit outta all these people?