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sticksandbones2023-10-04 03:16 pm
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2023-10-04 03:16 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !tdm,
- arknights: gnosis,
- arknights: irene,
- arknights: mizuki,
- baldur's gate iii: astarion ancunín,
- baldur's gate iii: taliira a'daragon,
- digimon survive: haru,
- elsword: add,
- elsword: elsword,
- fate: bb,
- i'm the grim reaper: brook,
- jujutsu kaisen: toge inumaki,
- murder drones: n,
- original: caoimhe ailbhe,
- original: felicity morais,
- original: kiera canorus,
- original: lancelot,
- original: luca aurelius
Event & TDM 005
SPOOKY SCARY SKELETONS
WAKE UP
cw: immolation, sinkholes
When your eyes open, you’re lying in crisp, blackened grass. The sky is dreary, the world around you is still and silent. Were it not for the ash raining from the sky or the acrid tang of burnt flesh, it might almost feel peaceful. Familiar-feeling memories wash over you — a town burning, the cackling of an unknown beast, the shrill screams of friends and loved ones dying a slow, painful death—
Where did that memory even come from? You’d better shake it off and rise to your feet before the ash buries you, too. It isn’t real… right?
The town you’re in is dilapidated and charred. Something snaps under your feet, and when you look down, a bone lies pressed into the earth, perfectly broken into two neat pieces. You press on, toward the destroyed remains of houses — some missing roofs, some collapsed in on themselves, others still weathering the test of time — to where the trees are vibrant and orange, to where the grass has regrown and the buildings stand tall. You press on… and your foot catches in the mud, a hole opening up beneath your feet and dragging you in. If you’re quick enough, you might be able to escape the collapsing earth before it buries you alive in years of muck and decay. If not… perhaps you’ll be lucky, and someone from the nearby settlement will bail you out.
Hopefully you won’t have to wait long.
When your eyes open, you’re lying in crisp, blackened grass. The sky is dreary, the world around you is still and silent. Were it not for the ash raining from the sky or the acrid tang of burnt flesh, it might almost feel peaceful. Familiar-feeling memories wash over you — a town burning, the cackling of an unknown beast, the shrill screams of friends and loved ones dying a slow, painful death—
Where did that memory even come from? You’d better shake it off and rise to your feet before the ash buries you, too. It isn’t real… right?
The town you’re in is dilapidated and charred. Something snaps under your feet, and when you look down, a bone lies pressed into the earth, perfectly broken into two neat pieces. You press on, toward the destroyed remains of houses — some missing roofs, some collapsed in on themselves, others still weathering the test of time — to where the trees are vibrant and orange, to where the grass has regrown and the buildings stand tall. You press on… and your foot catches in the mud, a hole opening up beneath your feet and dragging you in. If you’re quick enough, you might be able to escape the collapsing earth before it buries you alive in years of muck and decay. If not… perhaps you’ll be lucky, and someone from the nearby settlement will bail you out.
Hopefully you won’t have to wait long.
KEEP MY HEAD TOGETHER
Somewhere on your body is an intricate, black mark that doesn’t come off no matter how hard you scrub. Perhaps there are two, or even three, or more. You don’t exactly remember getting these small, medallion-sized tattoos — it’s almost as though you woke up with them. Better make sure no one’s drawing on you in your sleep.
As the day progresses, the effects of these marks become apparent. Suddenly, everything hurts — a dull, throbbing pain as if you’ve been stabbed. Perhaps the pain is quick and sharp, like you stubbed your toe on the inn’s coffee table. Perhaps it slowly burns, like hot coffee accidentally splashed on your lap. No matter what the pain is, you feel it at less of an intensity than you would if you’d actually done these things. Later, you might meet with the person who shares a mark with you, and maybe they’ll tell you — they stubbed their toe, they spilled their coffee, someone randomly stabbed them, how weird is that?
These marks link you and your partner(s) — any pain they feel, you’ll feel, too, albeit at half the intensity they do. If you’re sharing that pain between three people, it’ll be at one third the intensity.
Negative emotions, though? Those, you get at full throttle. If those you share a mark with cry, you’ll cry, too; you feel their rage at being stuck here as though it were your own; you long for home, and you miss a mother that isn’t yours. Fight through your blurring sense of self, friend. Surely you’ll get used to it soon. After all, these will stay on your body for the rest of the month.
As the day progresses, the effects of these marks become apparent. Suddenly, everything hurts — a dull, throbbing pain as if you’ve been stabbed. Perhaps the pain is quick and sharp, like you stubbed your toe on the inn’s coffee table. Perhaps it slowly burns, like hot coffee accidentally splashed on your lap. No matter what the pain is, you feel it at less of an intensity than you would if you’d actually done these things. Later, you might meet with the person who shares a mark with you, and maybe they’ll tell you — they stubbed their toe, they spilled their coffee, someone randomly stabbed them, how weird is that?
These marks link you and your partner(s) — any pain they feel, you’ll feel, too, albeit at half the intensity they do. If you’re sharing that pain between three people, it’ll be at one third the intensity.
Negative emotions, though? Those, you get at full throttle. If those you share a mark with cry, you’ll cry, too; you feel their rage at being stuck here as though it were your own; you long for home, and you miss a mother that isn’t yours. Fight through your blurring sense of self, friend. Surely you’ll get used to it soon. After all, these will stay on your body for the rest of the month.
THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE
A week into October, a skeletal visitor comes rattling into the Grove, wearing a top hat on its bare cranium and a name tag on its ribcage: “Mr. Bone-Jangles”. Mr. Bone-Jangles cannot speak, but he’s very excited to take willing people into the burned town and lead them toward the far north of it, where a small army of fellow skeletons have put up a circus tent. Pumpkin-shaped flags decorate the scorched remnants of a street, and mysterious skull-shaped lights float in the air. Mr. Bone-Jangles joyfully motions to the tent, where a banner placed over the tent-flaps reads “MASKERADE”... you assume this is meant to be “masquerade”, but it would be rude to point out the spelling error. Skeletons don’t have brains.
Before you can even enter the tent, Mr. Bone-Jangles’ employees direct you to a smaller tent set up to the side, demanding with clacks of their jaws in morse code that you put on your costume and mask. Costumes are optional; masks are not. Luckily, all of these are free. The costume tent itself is entirely empty save for one giant mirror which, when gazed into, shows you standing in your outfit of choice. Once you exit the tent, you’ll be wearing that outfit, and the skeletons will hand you a wooden mask in any design you feel suits you, matching or not. Where did your old clothing wind up? Great question! They’ll be teleported back to your bed in a wrinkled heap, but you don’t have to worry about that until the party stops. And speaking of that mask… when you put it on between the party start at 10pm and end at 6am, it won’t come off no matter how hard you pull until 6:01am approximately.
The skeletons insist you don’t try to tug your skin off, though, and instead direct you inside the masquerade tent itself. It’s almost akin to being teleported to another dimension — a grand ballroom is decorated with classic Halloween decorations, a buffet of spooky-themed snacks is laid out on the tables, the music is almost too loud, and a lounge is set up off to the side for those who’d like to rest between dances. If you lack a dance partner, worry not — the skeletons are more than happy to waltz with you. And, if you’re of age, they’ll serve you any liquor you’d like.
Stay too late, though, and the skeletons will kick you out. They’re stronger than they look and aren’t afraid to toss you like a wet rag onto the burnt streets. Once the party ends for the night, you won’t be able to get back into the tent no matter how hard you try, so don’t leave anything behind!
Before you can even enter the tent, Mr. Bone-Jangles’ employees direct you to a smaller tent set up to the side, demanding with clacks of their jaws in morse code that you put on your costume and mask. Costumes are optional; masks are not. Luckily, all of these are free. The costume tent itself is entirely empty save for one giant mirror which, when gazed into, shows you standing in your outfit of choice. Once you exit the tent, you’ll be wearing that outfit, and the skeletons will hand you a wooden mask in any design you feel suits you, matching or not. Where did your old clothing wind up? Great question! They’ll be teleported back to your bed in a wrinkled heap, but you don’t have to worry about that until the party stops. And speaking of that mask… when you put it on between the party start at 10pm and end at 6am, it won’t come off no matter how hard you pull until 6:01am approximately.
The skeletons insist you don’t try to tug your skin off, though, and instead direct you inside the masquerade tent itself. It’s almost akin to being teleported to another dimension — a grand ballroom is decorated with classic Halloween decorations, a buffet of spooky-themed snacks is laid out on the tables, the music is almost too loud, and a lounge is set up off to the side for those who’d like to rest between dances. If you lack a dance partner, worry not — the skeletons are more than happy to waltz with you. And, if you’re of age, they’ll serve you any liquor you’d like.
Stay too late, though, and the skeletons will kick you out. They’re stronger than they look and aren’t afraid to toss you like a wet rag onto the burnt streets. Once the party ends for the night, you won’t be able to get back into the tent no matter how hard you try, so don’t leave anything behind!
DON’T CHASE THE DEAD
Turns out, the masquerade isn’t just for one night, but for every night for the rest of the month. On the second night of the masquerade and on from there, ghosts appear in droves, gathering at the party and in the burned town for a night out. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get their attention; they’ll merely pass right through you as if you aren’t there.
Some of the ghosts look eerily familiar to you, like people you knew in the past who aren’t here now. It could be your mother, your brother, a close friend, or maybe your old neighbour or coworker. Each is dressed in masquerade attire, each intends only to party until the sun comes up, and at that point, each ghost fades from the world as if dissolving away into nothingness.
They’ll be back the next night, of course. And the next. And the one after that. Until finally, the last day of the month rolls around, and the ghosts aren’t there. If you come to the burned town at 6am, you’ll be greeted by the sight of the skeletons packing up their tents and decorations. And if you stick around until 7…
Mr. Bone-Jangles takes off his top hat and takes a bow, waves one last goodbye, and then him and his skeleton crew take a dive into the sinkhole that was, somehow, underneath the masquerade tent the whole time.
Some of the ghosts look eerily familiar to you, like people you knew in the past who aren’t here now. It could be your mother, your brother, a close friend, or maybe your old neighbour or coworker. Each is dressed in masquerade attire, each intends only to party until the sun comes up, and at that point, each ghost fades from the world as if dissolving away into nothingness.
They’ll be back the next night, of course. And the next. And the one after that. Until finally, the last day of the month rolls around, and the ghosts aren’t there. If you come to the burned town at 6am, you’ll be greeted by the sight of the skeletons packing up their tents and decorations. And if you stick around until 7…
Mr. Bone-Jangles takes off his top hat and takes a bow, waves one last goodbye, and then him and his skeleton crew take a dive into the sinkhole that was, somehow, underneath the masquerade tent the whole time.
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
You find yourself in a burned-down town. As you try to leave, a sinkhole opens beneath your feet and sucks you in. Screaming for help is a viable option.
Everyone is now sharing pain and negative emotions. Please try not to get stabbed so that your partner(s) don't have to also feel stabbed. You can pair up with as few or as many people as you want, as long as you're paired up with minimum one other person.
Welcome to the masquerade! Mr. Bone-Jangles hopes you have a good time. Masks and Halloween costumes are provided free of charge, but be careful, because donning the masks between 10pm and 6am makes them unable to be removed until the party stops at 6. There's tons of food and drink, and liquor for those who are old enough to have it. Just don't stay past the party's end or the skeletons will yeet you out onto the street.
The masquerade goes for the rest of the month, and after day 1, it'll be frequented by ghosts who look like people from your past. They don't seem to notice you and will float through you if you stand in their way. At the end of the month, the skeletons pack up the party, the ghosts disappear, and the skeletons jump into a sinkhole underneath the masquerade tent. Goodbye! Happy Halloween! Mr. Bone-Jangles sends his regards.
Welcome to the fifth TDM & Event Log of Sticks and Bones! This log is game canon. The prompts are meant for all players, current and future, so have fun! Our applications operate on a rolling basis, so applications are open with no end date unless we suddenly cap players. If there are any questions, please direct them to the "questions" header below.
❖ None yet!
TDM TOPLEVELS!
❖ Vash (Trigun Stampede)
❖ N (Murder Drones)
❖ Rin Tohsaka (Fate/Stay Night)
❖ Rui Ninomiya (Gatchaman Crowds)
❖ Ain (Elsword)
❖ Hiyori Iki (Noragami)
❖ Taliira A'Daragon (Tav) (Baldur's Gate III)
❖ Genjiro Chibana (Handead Anthem)
❖ Haru (Digimon Survive)
❖ Samatoki Aohitsugi (Hypnosis Mic)
❖ Leon S. Kennedy (Resident Evil 4: Remake)
❖ Grusha (Pokemon: Scarlet & Violet)
❖ Woljif Jefto (Pathfinder: WOTR)
❖ N (Murder Drones)
❖ Rin Tohsaka (Fate/Stay Night)
❖ Rui Ninomiya (Gatchaman Crowds)
❖ Ain (Elsword)
❖ Hiyori Iki (Noragami)
❖ Taliira A'Daragon (Tav) (Baldur's Gate III)
❖ Genjiro Chibana (Handead Anthem)
❖ Haru (Digimon Survive)
❖ Samatoki Aohitsugi (Hypnosis Mic)
❖ Leon S. Kennedy (Resident Evil 4: Remake)
❖ Grusha (Pokemon: Scarlet & Violet)
❖ Woljif Jefto (Pathfinder: WOTR)
Astarion | Baldur's Gate III
II. (TW: Starvation)
III.
IV.
V. (TW: Past Torture, PTSD)
VI - Wildcard!
V. ricky when I catch you ricky
It was only a moment that she was gone. Taliira had gotten up to get another drink, her gown flowing behind her as she moved across the dance floor. She was only gone a moment, not even a minute. She had gotten them two glasses, even though she knew he wasn't done with his just yet, and as she was halfway back to the nook that they had taken as theirs, she noticed he was gone.
His drink, abandoned.
She spotted the head of messy white hair in the distance and after a moment she was setting the drinks she had gotten on a passing tray before she was hiking up her dress and all but running after him.
Turns out running in heels was a lot more difficult than she thought. She was used to boots and armor, not stilettos and gowns. But she caught up with him eventually, and when she did, she was slowing her pace and moving to sit beside him, skirt hiked up to her hips so she wouldn't be a tipping cupcake.]
Astarion?
no subject
[He jolts at sound of her voice, glancing sideways in her direction and appearing quite surprised to already see her sitting there. Astarion hadn’t heard her approach, which was… Quite alarming, honestly. She could have been anyone, could have been someone who had arrived with the intent to stab him in the back with a stake.
Blinking a few times, he attempts to force a smile onto his face, one that very quickly drops away before it ever really managed to settle onto his lips.]
…Sorry, pet. I didn’t worry you, did I?
no subject
Perhaps she shouldn't bother him.
But that thought was easily dismissed when she saw his failed attempt at a smile. Taliira placed a gloved finger in her mouth, using her teeth to tug the glove off and setting it down on her lap. With her one free hand, she reached for him and placed it over one of his hands.
She was warmer than the night air, and her body heat might... who knows? Comfort? Be strange anchor against the ship of his racing thoughts?]
I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
[She had seen that look in his eyes before, but never to this extent.]
no subject
If that were true, why had it taken two hundred years to taste freedom? If that were true, why had it earned him nothing but pain the last time he himself had tried his hand at altruism?]
Don’t touch me.
[The words escaped him before he’d really meant to allow them to do so, and Astarion was grateful - not for the first time - that the masquerade mask hid everything but his lips and eyes from view. It made things considerably easier.
He hadn’t even meant the statement as an attack; seeing the side of Cazador’s face had been more than enough to lacerate old wounds, and he just… Really didn’t feel up to having hands and fingers and lips all over him right about now. No, if anything it was a request for boundaries, aided by the fact that his voice contained no sense of anger or irritation. He simply sounded… Tired.]
I just need a moment or two, that’s all. You… Can stay, if you’d like.
no subject
She wasn't sure what had caused him to retract like this, nor was she going to pry. He was allowed to process things on his own, and sometimes that meant solitude. If he wanted her to leave, she would. She'd keep an eye on him regardless, he can't stop her from worrying about him, but she would never disrespect him by denying him what he needed.
So, she stayed silent, watching the river. The corset of her dress made her posture a little stiff, and she wanted to kick her heels off to get more comfortable, but she didn't move.]
no subject
Astarion turned his head to look in Taliira’s direction, watching her with a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if she were a rather interesting puzzle he still wasn’t entirely convinced he had all the pieces for.]
You must be cold, out here like this.
[It’s stated as an observation and not an inquiry, though for the moment no follow-up comes.]
no subject
After a moment she registered what he said, and a small smile crossed her lips.
He was silly.
And she had missed him.]
A little, but it's nothing I can't handle.
[She could always put her gloves back on if she got too cold, and if the gloves weren't enough, then she would endure. What's a little cold when your best friend was suffering?]
IV
He isn't dancing either, just standing off to the side watching people. At this point he's half expecting the skeletons to seal the exits, pull a Carrie or try to kill them in some other way.
His glum thoughts grind to a halt when he smells blood. That guy at the lounge - there's no mistaking what he is. As different as other vampires are, Natsuno could always clock monsters like him - as they could in return.
He approaches - and immediately rolls his eyes at the guy's opening line. Great, vampire cliches.]
I'll probably give you a stomach ache.
no subject
[There's a slight tilt to his head as he regards Natsuno, studying him with a hint of curiosity. The kid's got a scent about him, like the faintest whiff of lingering death. The kind of aroma that usually sticks to...
A flash of recognition crosses his face, the corners of his eyes tightening with wariness even as his sharp grin widens. So, he's not the only one of their kind here after all. That definitely makes things more interesting.]
Luckily for us both, I dare say my particular tastes fall somewhere a little more... Well. [He gives the empty glass a pointed, lazy shake to finish the statement.] Would you like a glass, darling? I'd hate to keep all the good red to myself.
no subject
Regardless, he can use some blood. Natsuno doesn't need it to survive, but without it he's been operating on scrawny teen-levels of strength. He needs every advantage to survive the horrors.]
Where'd you get it from?
[Blood of vague and mysterious origin isn't ideal, but he's learned to accept it. He's not hunting people with names and faces, though.]
no subject
[Some people prefer their blood to be ethically sourced, after all. That sort of thing doesn't necessarily bother Astarion, of course, but he's never considered himself a paragon of morality. Beauty and good hair, however? Absolutely.]
Regardless of where it comes from, I can confirm it's safe. He even offered to make it alcoholic, if that's your vice. I prefer it undiluted, but to each their own.
II
He's managed to survive on his own for decades with practically nothing. He'll survive this, too.
It's easier said than done, however, when it seems like someone else has the same idea.
Vash has been to the inn by now, he just isn't necessarily staying there. It's likely people have seen him by now, they just might have noticed he hasn't set up shop just yet. He will, if he ends up staying for longer than he has already, but for now he's outside just like Astarion is. But it's one thing to just be going for a brisk evening stroll, and entirely another to be...
Before Vash can decide how to approach, if at all, he does what his clumsy ass is best at. He gives himself away pretty much immediately with the way a stick he just stepped on snaps underfoot, cracking so loudly that he's pretty sure people in the next country must have heard it. He flinches, shoulders hunching, already ready to work up an apology and an explanation, he was just happening by, he was not following you he promises it was actually just a coincidence this time-]
IV
He's definitely drunk though, but not enough to totally lose his wits about him. He smiles behind his collar and mask and he accepts the offer of a seat with a heavy flop.
Toge offers him the bottle. ] Tuna?
[ He's been drinking from a cup, no germs or anything. He tilts his head at the biting question with curiosity but he's definitely not in a position to really ask about it. His hand's already full, he can't whip out his phone.
Of course he can fix that. Give him a minute. ]
no subject
Not quite, but good guess, I suppose. The name's Astarion, no relation to aquatic lifeforms. [It's said as he upends the bottle, pouring some of the contents into his own glass before he's passing it back over.]
no subject
Salmon. [ Toge says agreeably, he gets it he's got his name it's all good. It's probably better that Astarion has taken some of the alcohol from him really.
He should take out his phone and- huh. What did he do with that again?
It's not lost at least, just in the wrong pocket. ]
Toge [ The name is at least whispered, so there's not going to be much of an effect, but man he shouldn't do that and he knows it. The bottle has made it to rest on the floor at least and he makes a gesture with his hand. He's been learning from Gnosis, but he's come up with a sign for his own name. He holds up two fingers stuck together and strokes his own throat. ]
III.
Hello!
[ A pause before she can figure out what she wants to say. ]
A-Are you Elven too..?
[ You know what at this point you cant ever be sure anymore. ]
IV im laughing
I prefer to know the name of the person who's propositioning me.
wkyewyet sorry birdman
Well, then. By all means, darling, why don't we get to know each other a bit better, hm? We can get as... Familiar as you'd like.
no subject
Name?
[Because, you know, Astarion didn't give it—]