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

code

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( this isn't meant for her. and she knows how this story ends- a guilt-ridden madwoman in a room dies alone, her husband dies elsewhere, and in the next life she'll leave and leave and leave again, no matter how much he needs her.

...

were they ever meant to have a happy ending?

and yet, she needs this as much as he does. )

I'm not asking you to stop. I know I'd do terrible things for you, too. I'm just asking you to take care of yourself. Please.

[ That makes him laugh, and he reaches up to take off his glasses cause his tears are fogging them. ]

Even as a phantom of my own mind, how you take care of me.

[ And he failed to take care of her. Is this why his mind mocks him so with her looking like this? Some broken, hurt beast? Is this how she looks in the room, locked away from him, howling and mad?

And young, to mock his own frailty and age? ]

I... no. I cannot. Not while there is work left to be done. This formula, if I can only finish it, make sense of the writings.

[ He pulls away, cups her face between old gnarled fingers, and there's a light in his eyes that speaks of far too long alone with his thoughts. ]

I am so close, I know I am close, my love. I can't stop to care for myself, I can't. How dare I, while you scream-

Please, Percy-

( the name feels strange to use, and yet completely natural. though it makes her wonder why she was consistent across the board...

or it would, if she wasn't distracted. is this what she does to him? what he'll do to himself? why... why? she's not worth this. she was never worth this-

hot tears, fresh and raw, spill again and she breaks from that tender hold to hug him 'round the neck, only just mindful of her horns. )

Why?! Why can't you see how badly you're hurting yourself? Even if you succeed, will you live past your efforts? Please don't do this...

[ He doesn't even seem surprised at her outburst. His mind has said a lot of the same before, as well as colder, crueler things with her voice. Her face. The scars of her attack pull at his face as he frowns gently, a reminder a reminder, but his hands go back to holding her. How can they not? His hand shakes as he rubs her back, but the touch is soothing and speaks of years of the same motion. Etched into the memory of her shoulders, down her spine, back up. Tender and loving. ]

My dear, nothing I do to myself is as bad as what I have done to you in failing to see the illness before it took you. I am a Doctor and I did not see it. [ That tone is so full of self-disgust, before it drops it. ] And if I do not... then we shall be together. Our souls in the end, beyond all this. They will not let you suffer much longer, they cannot, so I ... I must cure it. Or bring you back.

[ A shuddery breath, no, he can't indulge with a ghost anymore. His joints are aching from sitting down here in the dark basement, and he gently lets her go. Grabs his cane to push himself to his feet, grimacing at the pain. He's too old, too stiff, his body is failing him but he will go on. ]

I will not fail you, my love. One way or another. [ His voice softens, mutters. ] One way or another...

...

Is this what our love does to you?

( does she hurt him? is she bad for him? if something had happened to her before truthless recluse- would he go mad like this? neglect himself like this, for her? her blood runs cold and she watches him struggle to stand with a horrendous ache in her chest before she stands and instead tries to guide him away from the magic circle. )

... Please... just rest. Just for a little bit. For me. I'll stay as long as I can.

No!

[ There's sudden strength in his voice, as the ghosts hands touch him, try to lead him away from the circle. From the lines on the floor, the wall, the open books, his notes. He puts his cane down hard to stop the forward motion, even if it makes him stumble a little. ]

Enough! Stop haunting me!

[ The memory wavers, tears at the seams, and Lily will find herself pushed back from Percival. Forced to release the ancient version of her husband, who promptly turns to go back to his work. The memory reasserting itself, reassembling. But she's not alone now. Truthless stands beside her, watching the old man kneel back down carefully. A frail pile of bones, waiting for death to claim him. ]

He has long since been broken.

Edited 2025-02-15 20:15 (UTC)

( lily can feel herself breaking, inside, just sitting on the floor in shock. she thinks she wants to crumble, just looking at the man she loves, old and maddened and breaking his own heart. ... his own morals.

he can never know who truly lies within the inn.

and then truthless recluse is there beside her, and she feels her skin go cold. she's not ready- )

...

I don't...

( ... understand, maybe? ... )

[ Neither does he, really. The memory wavers and slides, as if avoiding Truthless and he looks away, so it stops wavering and Lily can continue to watch.

This isn't for him to see, not yet. His soul apparently hasn't come to terms with it. Percival hiding the truth from himself, the pain? He doesn't know.

All he knows is that the man before them have long since been lost to his own madness. ]

... If he understood I'm sure he would say thank you, for trying to save him from himself.

... He shouldn't have felt that he had to go this far.

( no, no, she doesn't want to see anymore- why is he making her keep watching? after a couple minutes, she covers her eyes with a shudder. )

... How do we end this...?

( ... the memory? or them? )

He loved you. You were his heart and soul. He lost you and that part of him died with it.

[ The question makes him dip his head a little, then focus. The mind scape isn't anything new to him. The memory is reluctant to pull away, to shift, but it does. Blurs, colors bleed, and they find themselves...

in the tower.

Truthless looks annoyed. This is not where he was trying to go, but he supposes this brand is going to control it. But at least Lily is no longer seeing her past husband breaking himself to pieces. ]

( no, now they're where her current husband died and she left him to it. so much better.

lily forces herself to stand, withdrawing into herself, like an unbloomed flower. like something small and fragile, just as she feels. the flowers on her horns are even more wilted than before. )

...

No escape until the brand is satisfied, I see. Go on, then. Show me whatever it is that must be seen.

[ And nothing happens. It is merely the tower. One spot inside of it, as twisted and convoluted as the rest, but it's empty. Of memories. Or anyone. It's merely a spot Truthless has tred before. It's quiet, at any rate.

And Truthless seems awkward.

A beat. Two. ]

I'm sorry. I was trying to free us.

... I know. Thank you.

( she might explain that she's tired, that she's hurt, that she's had enough- more things she would be open to pure vanilla with. ... but he's made it clear, he's not pure vanilla. why should she confide in him, then? or open up to him?

it's quiet, and it makes her skin crawl. she just wants to leave. )

[ She doesn't need to explain anything, he's the one that broke things off with her. Who got tired of trying to be someone he didn't feel like being anymore. But he opens his mouth to something anyways before simply vanishing.

Leaving her alone in the memory of a tower, though with him gone it seems to shift. A flash of a memory, of Pure Vanilla walking through, looking at the various aspects of Shadow Milk in paintings on the wall. An old man, a young lady, an old lady, a shepherd boy with a sharp grin. He's speaking out loud to himself but his voice is muffled, distant, as if it's underwater.

The memory shifts, wavers, and Pure Vanilla looks confused and turns to... look directly at White Lily. Surprise flashes across his face and he opens his mouth.

His words are lost and he stops trying eventually. Then steps towards her to reach out and try to touch her, his hand passing through her. He stares at it for a moment before seeming to sigh. Then smiles to her, beautiful and brilliant and him and raises a hand in a 'moment' gesture.

The memory shifts again, bleeds and his expression turns pained, concentrating. The tower oozes away like an oil painting in rain, until they're standing together in the Faerie Woods. It wavers and warps around them like it might give out at any moment, sagging here and there, but it's solid enough for now. ]

Ah, I thought so. It is much easier to bring about a place we both share in our memories.

[ He's far more solid as well, though it shows the tiny details. His hair is dark at the ends, the shine is lost. Fading petals curling upwards. There's cracks in his dough, painful chunks missing along his cheek that are half hidden by his robes. Which themselves hide an unknown amount of him gone. But he's there enough to smile to her with the same sparkling love he'd always give. ]

Have you decided to walk in dream as our young Dipper did, my heart?

Edited 2025-02-18 17:45 (UTC)

( truthless recluse is gone and it's both relieving and painful- is this the future that awaits her? maybe it should be, given everything she's seen. she's ready to navigate the tower alone (he shouldn't have had to be alone she should have been there) when the first shift happens-

a gallery? but she can't hear. pure vanilla sees her, is aware- she'll think back at the gallery later, but right now she just feels overwhelmed. the second shift is- also overwhelming, but this time it's an even mix of too many feelings. the faerie forest, the closest thing she's ever felt to home, the place of her resurrection, where elder faerie... her duty and responsibility...

and then he speaks. )

... Vanny...?

( and here she thought she was out of tears to cry. her vision blurs, especially as she realizes the state he's in, and she closes the distance in seconds, holding him tight. )

... N-not... actively. T-there's something strange again....

Hello, my love.

[ He closes his arms tightly around her, holds her with all his strength. Which is a considerable amount yet, as he works towards awakening from the nudging Dipper gave him. ]

Of course there is, it is the Grove.

[ He sounds put out but not annoyed. He missed her, more than he can feel, so he will take whatever bit of her he can momentarily get. He rubs her back gently, shifts away to cup her face and put a soft kiss on her forehead, his hands wiping the large tears away. He notices... marks. The backlash of magic on her yet again. His expression falls as he touches them gently, traces them with his hands. ]

Oh, my heart, I am so sorry.

[ He only catches brief moments from Truthless' memories, he didn't see it happen. But he can guess. There's enough reasons she would try something in a state in which it might backlash on her. Or was it from him? Truthless wouldn't outright attack her but the hints of Shadow Moon... ]

What has happened?

( lily is quiet, shrinking shamefully under his gaze, like the injuries she sustained are something dirty, or wrong. it's- it's hard. but she leans against him and inhales- )

I tried to continue our research into Oripathy with- with Truthless Recluse Cookie. But it was in the wake of grief, and he has been... he tried. But he's still... different. ... I wasn't ready. But I couldn't admit it.

When we tried, I saw visions of Shadow Milk Cookie. It scared me, and I lost control of the threads.

( that is... also shameful to admit, as the new guardian. )

The clinic is... repairing itself.

Oh... oh my darling...

[ He pulls her back in against him, tucks her tight as she leans in, strokes up and down her back soothingly under her braid. His frown grows heavier and his heart aches. He wishes he had been there.

And he feels her shame, the way she shrinks in on herself, and shakes his head. ]

Oh, love, do not blame yourself. Do not let it eat at you. There are always truths we hide from ourself, and the biggest one is that we are ready to move on when we are not. I am sorry I was not there for you, I fear I am not yet strong enough and there are many things I must come to terms with before I am, but I beg you. Forgive yourself.

... You know I've never been good at that.

( lily carries crimes from their school days on her shoulders still- granted, that was... pretty cataclysmic. but the point stands- the only cloak she wears more than her actual cloak is the one cast from her sins, guilt that she can't let go of, because she can't make up for it no matter how hard she tries.

lily holds onto him, though- if she lets go, will she lose him again? )

I miss you. So much...

I know, my sweetheart...

[ Boy, does he. Yet someday he hopes she will be able to look at herself in the mirror, and tell herself she's sorry. Until then, he will hold her and forgive her for her. Squeeze her like he can fit her broken pieces back together. ]

I will be back, my love. I promise you. There is nothing that can keep me away for long.

[ He turns to rest his head against hers, the memory around them beginning to feel strained. There's only so much he can do against the brand, especially while as worn as he is. ]

Do not give up hope. You and Cacao both. I love you, White Lily Cookie. Promise me you will yet keep faith.

... It's so hard. Everything I've seen since losing you tells me- tells me I need to stay away, even if you do come back somehow...

( it comes out a whisper, a confession just for him and she hates the words tumbling from her tongue. but it's true. )

[ Oh that hurts, his rebuilding heart tightening like it's about to shatter in his chest all over again. But he understands. He's... seen the memories. Here and there. What has happened. How they hurt around each other.

But he shakes his head, tightens his hold on her like he can meld them together. ]

I understand, my love. But forgive me for being stubborn and saying no.

[ He smiles a little, turning his face in against her hair. The memory of a scent. ]

I have lost you too many times already to allow it to happen again. When I am back, we will talk. We have so much to say, and I fear we have shied away from it all. We hurt because we try to save each other.

Huh-?

( lily balks, because. well. what do you mean 'no'- especially in the wake of what she's seen in these memories! and she's been horrid, always, even when she tries-

... and yet, she can't break away.

... )

... All I've ever done is cause pain... And you have been no different. Even though I want to...

[ No is no. Pure Vanilla refuses. This is his wife. This is the woman he's loved since he was a child. He squeezes her softly to him, shaking his head. ]

Have I not caused you pain as well? I did not speak up back at the Academy, I pulled away instead. I did not follow you, when I desperately wished to, fearing what was to be found. We have both struggled to keep the other safe, and all we've done is-

[ He sighs and shakes his head again, smiling. ]

We will talk, my heart, upon my return. I will hold nothing back from you anymore. I love you. I truly love you, and we have lived a very long time. Life has it's hardships, and as for as much love as there is there is pain, but we will get through it. Together, my love.

[ Please? ]

( she can't even begrudge him for walking away, back then- look what she'd done, what she'd do in the future. how many of his lines has she crossed? and yet... and yet... and yet.

lily's breath hitches and she wraps her arms around vanilla's neck, burying her face into the crook. )

Don't keep me waiting much longer, I beg of you...

EVENT 021

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