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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)
bitch we are POINTIN
He takes her hands in his own all the same, but his ruffled feathers do not seem keen on unruffling any time soon.]
I am not doing well, and you would do well to not assume such nonsense. [His voice lowers, quieter now so only Taliira can hear it, but no less irritated.] This hellshole is devoid of all wildlife aside from the blasted fish in the bloody river. Do you have any idea what it feels like to bite into a fish? While it's still alive and wriggling? That's not even to mention the slime, or the taste!
no subject
Oh, that's... [She bit her bottom lip. Gross.] Well, I'm here now, so no more fish for you.
no subject
[The softening curve of his lip seemed to imply most of his annoyance had begun to drop away, giving way to a grumpiness that was only slightly genuine. He was still rather cross with her for leaving him to exist all on his own, of course, but at the very least she did seem to be quite remorseful of it all.
Satisfied with her placating, he tightened his own grip on her hand, and all but dragged her out onto the dance floor alongside him.]
Regardless, you owe me at least three rounds of dance before you can even begin to consider yourself exonerated.
no subject
She followed behind him, nonetheless.]
Oh, if I must.
[Her tone remained as light and teasing as it was before, hopefully not revealing the slight nervousness she felt. She didn't know why she was nervous, though. It was a dance — or three, according to Astarion — not a battlefield.
She'd be a lot more comfortable on a battlefield. Not for a lack of skill, ballroom dancing was a deadly little game in Menzoberranzan, one that she learned at a very young age.
Still, as soon as they were on the dance floor, among the other couples, she placed her hand over his and gave him a mischievous smile. Will he try to lead, she wondered? She might just let him.]
no subject
This was his first party (other than the one with the tieflings, which hardly counted at all, really) where he was allowed to be a person again, not just a lovely little bauble to adorn someone’s wrist. He could dance when he pleased for as long as he pleased, and no one was here to tell him otherwise.
He swept down into a low, extravagant bow, placing his lips to her gloved knuckles before stepping in and straightening up into the proper stance. With one hand on her waist and the other clasped in hers, he quickly fell into step with the music, twirling her along with him.
And yes, fully intending to lead.]
Well, then. Now that my grievances have been properly aired, it would be rather remiss of me to not mention how ravishing you look this evening. [A pause, then a smirk.] Good enough to eat, one might even say.
no subject
Her smile turned into a laugh, and soon after she was falling into perfect step with him. Their bodies were in sync with the music and their movements. Each twirl caused her dress to flare, and her hair to bounce.
And she was actually having fun.
Gods, when was the last time she had fun at such an event like this?
Well, never. Mostly because any gala or party that was hosted by the A'Daragon's — or any of the other Houses for that matter — had double and even triple hidden agendas. Dancing was as deadly as fighting, and blades were as common as a sweet kiss.
This seemed ... not that, so it was already an improvement.]
Oh, sweet talker. You know how to flatter a girl. [The playful little smirk she gave in return was just as devious.] As do you. Ravishing, I mean. Eating, well, if we keep dancing I might work up an appetite.
no subject
Your courtship needs work, but don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t have the spirit.
[His jabs were lighthearted and teasing, and he spun her around with a flourish before catching her in a low dip. All the while, he was mindful to not dip her too low, not wanting to drag her hair across the dirty floor.]
Luckily for us both, I happen to find you quite… Charming. [A pause as he rights her onto her feet once more, letting out a thoughtful hum.] In a bumbling, quaint sort of way.
no subject
And when she was back in her feet and hummed, traces of her laughter still on her lips.]
Mm, perhaps you will let me practice on you? I have never had the luxury of courtship, outside of romance novels.
[They continued to move with the music, her hand in his as she moved around him, one twirl and then another.]
Unless you wish for me to proclaim my intentions for you in long winded prose.
[As she came face to face with him again, her smile was softer — gentle, even.]
But I have missed you, Astarion. Pretty words aside.
no subject
[Truth be told, he wasn’t quite certain if one song had given way to the next, as the swaying tempo had long since bled into the background in the face of keeping his attention on her. On the way she moved, on the way her freckles scattered across her skin like constellations in the night sky.
On the pounding of her heart, pulsing to a tempo that was more enticing than any of the drums beneath this tent could possibly hope to be. The way her throat bobbed when she swallowed, as hypnotic as it was tempting.
Truly, he wanted nothing more than to lean in close and sink his teeth into her flesh, to drain her of her blood and bask in the warmth it offered. Had he not just finished polishing off a few glasses of the kind Captain Jack Marrow had so graciously poured for him, he might have done just that. In front of god and everyone.
Luckily, some of the ravenous thirst had been curbed. For the moment.]
I’d return the sentiment, but I’m still supposed to be quite angry with you, if you haven’t forgotten.
no subject
There were no stars in the Underdark. Or seasons.
Quoting them might feel disingenuous, or at the very least, obvious that she had no idea what half of it meant. She had been on the surface a few months, so she could at least confidently point out the moon.]
I'd rather not string poetry together in front of a crowd. What if they fell in love with me?
[It seemed that the other couples were coming to an end of their dance. Taliira took a step closer to him, cheek pressed against his for a moment, before she was stepping back and giving him a courtesy.]
Well, I hope that I am on the road to forgiveness.
no subject
And now?
Now it came naturally. All thanks to Taliira.
It was all rather sickening, really.]
Was that not the goal, my sweet? To practice your technique until it’s powerful enough to make every paramour swoon from the mere sight of you?
[Her curtsy was met with another sweeping bow of his own, lingering just a moment before he was offering his arm for her to loop hers through.]
Surprisingly? Yes, you are. [Another thoughtful pause, and then he was inclining his head towards the entry flaps that lead to the outdoors.] Though… If you’re feeling particularly remorseful… Perhaps we could find a quiet corner to tuck ourselves away into?
no subject
In truth she didn't need a gaggle of people falling and tripping over her. She knew that not to be genuine, and in truth, if it were, it would terrify her.
What was one to do with that much attention?
She could barely get by with the the little attention she already drew.]
Hmm... [She looked to be deep in thought, lightly biting her lower lip and tilting her head to the side to feign contemplation.] I am rather remorseful. Why not?