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

[charlastan]

Heh. Yeah, I--

[Who know what doesn't usually happen when Stan talks to himself? He doesn't usually hear anyone talk back to him.

It hits him all at once and he startles even more than he heard a knock at the door. What the fuck?!]

Who's in here?!

[He looks around, squinting to try and see through the flames. He probably looks directly at Loop, but the flames are all kind of a blur. He probably shouldn't have broken his last pair of prescription glasses...but he doesn't see anything really - not anything that's registering as a person anyway.

His hand is on the baseball bat again but he makes himself stuff it into the duffle bag and forces up an uncomfortable laugh.]

Ha! Great, you're losing your mind, Stan! Just in time to go see your estranged brother!

[theuniverseleads]

[They freeze up again, staring back at him as they debate whether they should try to calm him down or just deal with the inevitable attack... but he somehow still doesn't notice them? Huh.

... they could probably get away with pretending they're not here for awhile longer, but that is the more slow and boring option, so. They stretch, then lay down to properly lounge on this motel bed like one of your Vaugardian girls.]

Nope! Just your eyesight, apparently.

[If he doesn't notice the blinding light is a person soon they're gonna start taking drastic measures (going through his things and standing in inconvenient places, maybe a poke or two if they're feeling bold).]

[charlastan]

[Stan huffs. This is exactly how hearing a voice would go for him, huh.]

Yeah, well. Not all of us have fancy glasses money, y'know!

[It's an actual problem if he's being honest, but his body's always falling apart in one way or another these days. Glasses aren't on the table until he gets his next big break, if that ever comes.

He looks around for a second, trying to spot where the voice is coming from, which is surprisingly difficult. But...there's something dark laying on his bed? He's staring right at it but still half-convinced he's looking at just a shadow or something, so he does the only reasonable thing he can think to do.

He reaches back into the duffel bag for his bat...

...and holds it out, trying to poke whatever that is the way someone might prod a corpse with a stick.]

[theuniverseleads]

[They grab the end of the bat with one hand. Level 99, bitch.]

Wow, I actually feel a little sorry for you! Imagine being graced with the presence of a celestial guide, and you can't even behold their divine radiance... Tragic!

[They really are just playing a character at this point, but it's hard not to in this weird situation. They can't just, like, say he's dreaming? Aren't you not supposed to do that kind of thing? But they're already so out of place here, they might as well have some fun with it. Stan probably won't mind.

... well, he won't as long as they don't pry somewhere they shouldn't. But they know about this one! Kind of! So it's fine!!]

Hmmm... okay! I've made up my mind! [regardless of whether he tried to wrestle the bat back or just let them have it, they let go without a second thought.] You're going to go meet your brother, right? You look like you could use some moral support! Call me your all-seeing-eye star! Anything you need, just say the word and I'll do my best!

[charlastan]

[Woah. It's the last thing Stan expected and he tries wrestling it back immediately, and as soon as Loop lets go he falls on his butt from the force of it. But at least he knows someone's there now. Someone...not quite human? At least that answers all the "How'd you get in here?" questions he would normally have though.]

Celestial guide, huh. Where've you been the last ten years then?

[Thankfully it's more sarcastic snark than a sincere question, and he gets up to his feet. This time he doesn't pack the bat though, even though Loop's demonstrated they're very capable of taking it from him. He just feels better holding it, okay? Especially when this star already knows more about him and his brother than he'd ever planned on sharing.]

Anything I need, huh... [He scratches his chin and raises an eyebrow at Loop.] How about a million dollars?

[Look. It's Stan. He has to at least try.]

[theuniverseleads]

Do you want the winning lottery numbers? Let me think... it should be 3, 9, 27, 33, 52 and 5. There you go! Winning numbers! Don't forget to buy a ticket!

As for where I've been... obviously, the planets weren't aligned until now, silly! We stars can't just pop down to earth whenever we want! What do you take me for, some lowly little meteorite? I need to plan my trips at least a decade in advance, that's just the way that it is~

But enough about me! [sitting up straight, legs crossed, hands clasped] This is your big moment! How are you feeling right now? Nervous? That's a pretty ominous postcard, don't you think?

[charlastan]

[Stan scrambles for a pad of paper next to the motel's phone, but unfortunately like everything else in this room it's on fire. Eventually he gives up though, and tosses the pen away. It's not like he can prove the numbers were right.

He raises an eyebrow as the subject changes back to him.]

What? Why does that matter? He actually wrote to me, so he needs me, so I'm gonna go, feelings or no feelings.

[Then, to keep his mind off of feelings he definitely doesn't have he rummages through more of his stuff, trying to make sure he's got everything he could possibly need. He eventually tugs out a pair of black mittens and a black beanie, and shoves them deep in his pockets.]

...Guess it is a big moment though. I mean, you know. Don't wanna fuck it up after all this time.

[theuniverseleads]

Right?? You don't want those pesky feelings to make you say something you'll regret! So~ you should sort them all out, with me~

[Just like a rehearsal!! Not that they know how Ford is going to react, but it's better than letting him do whatever the hell he did in his past. Maybe they can direct him towards a better outcome this time around? A nice little what-if.]

Okay, so... you can pretend I'm your brother! Scene: Gravity Falls, Oregon. It's been XX years since we've seen each other, and I've summoned you to my home with an ominous letter. What ever could the reason be?? Is it an apology, a request, or... could it be, I'm in danger? And the only one I thought to call... the one person I knew I could always trust...

You knock on the door... it opens, and there he is. Enter: the Scientist. What's the very first thing you say?

[charlastan]

Oh, uh. I...guess that makes sense?

[Alright fine, fine. Enter: Stan Pines, looking awkward and sweaty, and as if he's going to combust on the spot.

He hasn't given it any thought at all. ...Well. Not any serious thought. He's sometimes given it some late-night thought, either because he's lonely or angry or some horrible combination of the two. It always varies between yelling apologies through the door (because obviously Ford would never open it) or pounding on it demanding to know why Ford let his life get ruined over one stupid mistake, or any number of other possibilities.

None of those are really great to just. Say though. What is the actual Normal thing to do?]

...Uh. Hey! How's it hanging, Sixer?

[This beat is uncomfortable for literally everyone who has to sit in it.]

It's, um. Been a while! Heh...