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

[corrupter]

Less viewing and more storing, [she says, flipping her wrists about while the almost too-long sleeves of the labcoat flop over them.] Storing, and being able to pull them out. They float around me invisibly all the time and talk and play over and over again, and I'm quite sick of it. Yap yap yap.

[Girl, maybe don't go taking memories if you don't want them to yap yap yap?]

I don't have any selenite or quartz on me. Grab your things, we're headed to the mountains.

[Does Kiera... have things to grab? Zonari does not notice one way or another, and is currently taking the lab coat off and swapping it for a backpack.]

[cryopathy]

[oh, that earns zonari quite the melodramatic groan.]

The mountains? Beasts, you want to drag me on a hike? To perform one of the most notoriously horrid forms of manual labor in existence? I don't even have my horse!

[corrupter]

Afraid of a little physical activity? [She teases, as she sweeps past Kiera and pinches their cheek.] You think we're walking all the way there? You can sit on my mount, if you're so terrified of walking.

[cryopathy]

Oh, absolutely petrified. [the LOOK they give zonari for pinching their cheek?? like a fucking GRANDMA???? the indignant huff they give is so petulant. a child throwing a tantrum.

a tantrum immediately forgotten at the promise of an easier mode of transportation.]

Oh? I'm rather curious what a gargoyle chooses for a mount!

i'm so sorry.

[corrupter]

Usually the face of pretty women, but I can't say we'll get anywhere fast with that.

[Just. Completely stone faced as she says this, and leads Kiera outside through a set of winding hallways with marble floors. It looks like they're heading directly for the front yard, if they pay enough attention to the windows. A short, brisk walk later, and they're out in the sunshine, black trees in the yard and strange, mutant plants lining the walkway to the front where a saddled creature waits.

Zonari assumes Kiera is completely incompetent at this, apparently, and reaches over to help them onto the back of this creature.]

not yet you're not. i am though

[cryopathy]

[sure, sure, a biblically accurate deer, kiera has seen its brethren in the woods.

if zonari wants to continue patronizing kiera, they can play along, let her partially lift them up. and then they, quite agilely, hike their leg up toward the beast in such a manner that, well, lo and behold, speaking of loins even marginally nearby faces... they only hold it for a moment, though, before easing up onto the creature's back and smirking down at her.]

You walked into that one, my friend. I know you've seen me riding Pinto around town. [so like WHY did you feel the need to treat them like a toddler at their first riding lesson!!]

no, i love them so much

[corrupter]

[Vague fluster...]

Please. I assume you don't know how to mount anything properly.

[Since they're just gonna be Like That now. Zonari hauls herself up onto the beast, pulls the reins, and it strides off toward the mountains. Enjoy the bumpy ride!]

same

[cryopathy]

Why ever would you assume that? Surely you've heard my brother say in any of a thousand ways that I'm most comfortable being the town carriage.

[she started it!!! this thing certainly has a different stride from a horse, but kiera is experienced enough to adjust quickly. nice try, though.]

[corrupter]

Ha! Perhaps I have.

[She won't tell :)

It's gonna be a few "hours" until they arrive at the base of the mountains. Time inside a memory passes even stranger than native forest time, though, so it doesn't feel quite that long. Either way, Zonari dismounts near a large mineral growth near the mouth of a cave entrance, pats her mount so that he stays like a good biblically accurate deer, and then turns to start walking amongst the minerals. Kiera will probably clock that this is not at All how minerals grow — some growths are sticking strangely out of the grass, in fact — but stranger things have happened in the fae wilderness.

This entire place reeks of "(touches ground) something has happened here".]

Alright. Are you going to help me out, your highness, or are you going to sit there?

[cryopathy]

[zonari gets herself a BIG roll of the eyes before kiera deigns to slide down. they were taking in their surroundings, trying to figure if they could tell where they are in relation to the grove, more out of curiosity than anything, but if zonari wants to be impatient...]

That depends. Are you expecting me to swing a pickaxe about?

[corrupter]

[It's pretty hard to tell. This is ~the past~ after all, and the mountains are ridiculously far from the Grove itself. Maybe if they go up higher, they'll have a nicer view...

Zonari does wants to be impatient thanks.]

A pickaxe? Do you want to make uneven cuts in the stone? No, we're harvesting these with magic and not brute force.

[Unfortunately Zonari is kind of

Not giving credit to her own argument there, because she uses her black flames to summon a wholeass glaive out of nothing, and swings it downwards in an arc of fire to cut a clean chunk off a nearby amethyst cluster.

Okay, look, amethyst is not good magic materials unless it's sleep or anti-anxiety spells but she LIKES it dammit.]

[cryopathy]

[sorry, zonari says "no cut rock" and proceeds to cut the rock, and kiera instantly busts out laughing. zonari has definitely heard them chuckle before, chortle, even, but this is actually laughter.

but you know what? once they gather themself, they'll find their own crystal and call up a sheet of ice to break it off at the base.]

Brute force magic is allowed, isn't it? [THE smarmiest grin.]

[corrupter]

Hah. My magic makes only clean cuts.

[She's not lying, but god damn girl. Also excuse her for being briefly caught off-guard by the laugh and having to clear her throat about it.]

You must have a preferred type of stone, [she ventures a short moment later.] Diamonds or rubies or some such, right?

[cryopathy]

[kiera is fully aware that they're hot as hell, even if their intent wasn't to fluster zonari. their smile curls a bit in both amusement and open affection as they consider the question.]

Rubies are a good example, though I like most things that are red or gold. What are yours, then?

[corrupter]

Lapis lazuli, chalcedony, sapphires... opals. [Her tail is wagging. Shut up.] Carnelian, spinel— oh, fire opals, too. [Basically if it's an opal, she likes it. Shiny.] Amethysts.

[She waves her wrist around.]

If it's blue, purple, red, or black, I probably like it.

[cryopathy]

[kiera doesn't bring up the tail wag; she's too busy lamenting the fact that she will never bring poor zonari any opals. the other stuff, though? yeah. she gives a casual smirk as she looks around for the next crystal cluster that will be their victim.]

I'll have to keep my eye out for most of those. Can't imagine too many are freely available in the Grove, but still.

[... rock gacha.]