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]

[Gnosis is going to go "flying" (read: stumble an inch or two to the left) before he rights himself. Thanks.

He looks incredibly nervous all of a sudden. What do you mean you like him enough to want him to come over?]

Well, I... I do have a lot of history to study, and I tend to lose track of time...

[Wheezes.

He suddenly stops walking, boldly grabs Enciodes by the wrist, and then just. Shoves that love letter against his chest, bright red and looking at the ground as he does it.]

I meant to give you that. Just— just take it before I change my mind and throw it in the trash with the other thirty drafts of it.

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[ Enciodes blinks dumbly at it, grasping it quickly and nearly dropping the maps in his arms to do so. He waits a moment, then looks back at Gnosis. ]

...My hands are a little full right now. Should I... read this when I get home? Do you want to just tell me what's inside?

[succiduous]

[Oh, Gnosis, you fucking idiot, why did you do that. What compelled you to do that...! Now he probably thinks you're incredibly rude and pushy!]

It's— it's a love note, and you don't have to read it, you could even burn it if you wanted...

1/2

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[ Well, all of the maps immediately fall onto the ground. His arms are free now! He fumbles for a moment to get the love letter open and pull it out. He wants to be delicate with it, truly, but he's so excited.

He's gotta read it quick before Gnosis leaves! In fact, just to make sure he doesn't, Enciodes is gonna hold Gnosis' hand once he's got a hand to do so with while he reads. ]

[succiduous]

[aaaaaAAAAAAAAAA—

Gnosis, panicked, scrambles to pick up the maps in some bid to distract himself while Enciodes reads his 30th draft of a love letter.]

Enciodes Silverash,

It's been 738 days since I first fell in love with you. You're the first person to make me feel something so ridiculously sentimental and real. I had thought myself immune to such things until the moment our eyes locked for the first time.

I've been rehearsing how to tell you this in my head for too long, and writing drafts that have gone nowhere fast, in some bid to tell you how I feel. If you're reading this one, it made the final cut, though I'm sure I'll eventually regret not throwing it in the garbage for all the embarrassment this entire thing brings me. Realistically, I should have invited you on a date (and you may consider this a formal invitation, if you'd like), but something about you makes my mouth dry up and my throat seize. I cannot properly speak when you're around, or think, or do anything other than make a blubbering fool of myself.

Your charm and wit are unrivalled, and I wish so dearly to hear them every day, but it's the fear of rejection that keeps me from saying anything. I know how childish it must seem to you, the man who has everything, who's so put together that the rest of us look like imbeciles in your presence, for me to confess via letter... but I'm no wordsmith, and I'm far more likely to trip into the river or fall flat on my face if I try verbally.

Accept my formal apology as well for this disaster. I assure you, the other letters are worse.

I love you. Please burn this if you don't return the sentiment and never look at me again.

~ Yours maybe, Gnosis Edelweiss

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[ Excuse him while he reads over it twice, just to make sure he's reading everything right. Oh, he had known there were some feelings there. He's not oblivious, after all, but he figured it was just a little baby crush. Something he could subtly tease him about, but... hhh. This is a lot!!! And Enciodes finds himself being flushed himself.

He looks up at Gnosis at last, opening his mouth to say something, closing it, holding the note to him...

...

He closes their distance and immediately presses his lips to Gnosis'. ]

[succiduous]

[aaaaAAAAAA!!!

The maps are on the ground again. Gnosis is unfortunately too stunned to try holding onto Enciodes until it's far too late. Whenever they break apart, he feebly reaches for Enciodes' hand with both of his and just sort of nervously holds it, wheezing out a sigh.

This is an adult man btw.]

U-um. [WHEEZE] S-sorry for dropping your maps.

[Gnosis.]

[diplomaticimmewnity]

[ Enciodes gives the heartiest of laughs, shaking his head. ]

I dropped them first, you goob. It's alright, I'll pick them up in a moment.

[ He is not letting go of Gnosis. Not right now, anyway. ]

...Have you really waited so long to tell me? You know, I've had quite the yearning for you for some time, but I feared your avoidance meant you were unsure.

[succiduous]

The avoidance was merely because I'm terrible at confronting my emotions. [It's very much easier to hide and pretend to pick mushrooms than it is to explain to a man you want to kiss him on the mouth!!!] I was terrified you'd hate the idea. You're noble and put together, and I am...

[Sucks in a breath through his teeth.]

...kind of a disaster, honestly.