sticksandbones | EVENT 021

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EVENT 021

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

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So kind and self sacrificing!

They were for him to begin with!

[ His argument is weak. He wanted them to. He just shared. Mumble grumble. ]

And it was five.

Mhm. Five.

[ Hee hee. He nudges his brother, beaming. ]

I'm just saying. It's all selective.

Were they good at least?

[ He gets nudged and sighs heavily, rocking into Wren like he was pushed hard. ]

They were delicious. And I guess. The POINT is that your books are boring and Wren is a secret nerd too.

If you want to think they're boring, that's all your perspective.

[ SHRUG he knows Jacob is just trying to be stubborn on purpose. ]

I would argue that we're all nerds.

Me?!

[He is not??? He's not quite so fight brained as his best friend. He huffs when Caleb lumps them all together]

[ That makes him grin a little, tighten his arms around them to squeeze gently. ]

You heard him, Wren. We're all nerds. We are tromping out to the woods right now to go poke at a new trail, after all. That's kinda nerdy.

[ Jacob gets it. Caleb laughs. ]

Exactly! That's very nerdy. Who knows the trails better than us?

You can't be nerdy about Woods.

[If you can then he's the king nerd???]

[ Your highness! ]

I dunno... what do you think, Caleb? Can you be nerdy about woods?

[ Caleb nods. ]

You can. I'd argue Wren knows the best.

[Huff, huff!!!]

Well... I DO know woods best.

Nerd.

[ But his tone is so fucking fond and he headbutts Wren gently from the side. Then his brother too. He stops walking when they reach the edge of the woods, grinning. ]

All right, Wood-Nerd. Caleb. You two first. I'll watch your backs.

[ Caleb can see things and Wren DOES know the woods the best. Jacob here is just the muscle. ]

[ Caleb chuckles. He wouldn't have his life any other way, honestly. These two being in it make it feel so... vibrant. ]

Right. I'll let you know if I see anything.

[ He takes a step inside, glancing back to Wren. Coming? ]

[Wren nods and follows, right at Caleb's side, just slightly protective.]

[ With the two nerds going first, Jacob will bring up the back. Hm, he should have grabbed his sword for this, so he finds a good stick to heft, swinging it a little before nodding. There.

Just because they know the Woods doesn't make it any less dangerous. ]

[Wren often complains that his mother refuses to let him take his bow off their property and also that she won't let him get a gun. But he has a sling on his hip that he's pretty damn good with.]

How's it feel? Anything off?

[ Caleb, meanwhile, is... unarmed! Aside from maybe a book-heavy bag. But his role here is perception, not combat, so it doesn't matter. Usually.

As they walk, he peers into the sun-dappled darkness of the woods, looking for movement. Anything unusual. And there's nothing for a good couple of minutes, thankfully, and it's just a pleasant walk in the woods with his brother and their best friend. ]

Nothing yet...

[ But as soon as he says that, a cold chill runs down his spine, and he stops in his tracks. ]

No, wait. Something is here.

[ But where--? He clearly can't see it, judging by how he's still looking around. ]

[ For a new trail - and thus an obvious fae-trap - it's peaceful and quiet, and that makes Jacob's hair stand on end. But for a bit he will just enjoy it, peering at a suspicious mushroom - oh no that's just a normal mushroom with a frog on top of it basking in a dapple of sunlight - before glancing up.

When his brother says no wait, Jacob stops and readies the stick, peering around. Not that he can see anything or, even like Wren, sense anything. He's as perceptionally dull as they come. ]

Anything above? Give it the typical.

[ Aka we're just travelers, passing through, etc. Establish the kindly route. ]

[Wren freezes as well, the hairs on his arms standing up. 'Knowing Woods' isn't just survival skills, but also knowing the more... esoteric dangers. Signs of fae or guardians. Where to and not to go. Wren, as a teenager, of course must be contrary in all he does, so blows a lot of his mother's warnings off. But he knows them. Knew them before he could even read or write. Rosaline Allaway is no witch. Not like Alexi, if the rumors around town are true. Her knowledge is purely practical. You don't try and bend the Woods to your will- you avoid the danger. You know your place.

So even if he doesn't fully buy every thing Caleb sees, he is not about to bait them. ]

Just passing through, thank you kindly.

[ It's a good gesture. Very smart. Caleb glances up at the limbs above them, but there's nothing there that he can see.

But something moves from the leaves on the trail ahead of them, and he freezes. Words lock up in his throat, his tongue refusing to cooperate. On the trail stands a large, black... dog? But its legs are too long, and it's back is too hunched, its eyes blazing red like coals as dark vines writhe over its coat. It doesn't even look tangible. It looks like shadows on a wall, like a light would make it vanish. But the points of light through the leaves don't seem to put a dent in it.

It snarls at him, shadowy mouth full of too many teeth.

Caleb takes a step back, hand reaching out to grab Wren's arm as he does. ]

We have to go.

[ This isn't just a mischievous fae. They can't fight this. ]

All right.

[ And Jacob isn't going to argue it, but he will move to the side instead. On the path still (never straying from it) but enough room to let Wren and Caleb back up. If Caleb says they have to go, then he knows this isn't just a pooka playing a prank.

Not something a stick is going to shoo away.

In fact, he will carefully lay the stick he picked up back down onto the path. Never take anything is one they all know. ]

Wren?

[ Do you feel anything? Caleb can see it but he also trusts Wren to pick up on the overall vibes. ]

[He doesn't see anything, of course. He never does. But he tilts his head, listening]

Listen...

[The bird cries and frog song and droning bugs are almost completely gone]

....yeah, let's get out of here.

[ Thankfully they trust him. The fact that they're both prepared to leave makes Caleb feel better, but only a little bit. The way the dog is looking at them - at him - makes him feel like he needs to throw up.

With Jacob shifted to the side, it lets them step back. Which Caleb does, tugging Wren with him. But the dog pads forward, silently, as if following them. ]

It's coming toward us. We have to go.

[ There's a tremble to his voice now. ]

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aneikonic - 2025-02-18 20:39 (UTC) - Expand

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