sticks and bones. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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)
no subject
You mean to tell me investigating the sort of magic is useless? Figuring out how things work will tell us nothing?
Furthermore, do you mean to tell me that how you treat others isn’t your problem? That you could care less about one’s morale and emotional state, especially now of all times?
[ Irene lifts her arm to show her pain share mark. Perhaps somewhere, her pain share folk will feel her melancholy. ]
You mean to tell me I’ve met a knight that doesn’t care about the people around him?
Because I am trying to understand. That’s why I’m here. If I am wrong, I beg of you to correct me, caballero frio.
no subject
Yeah, I don't care about people. [ A lie and truth, anger that is most volatile begins to burn up inside of him. Remembering the countless times he had been used over and over by them - by all the people. By, noblewomen. By, noblemen. By peasants who demanded more from him, because killing a dragon that was killing them was not apparently enough. That he was a laughing stock, a joke, a disappointment - and he still fought for all of them. He still fended off the Saxons on their behalf. ]
Sorry to disappoint you, but all Knights are a load of shit anyway. Better you know that now, than get disappointed later, but that's neither here nor there. I have nothing to tell you, you either ask me to help kill something, fight for your sake, or figure it out yourself. [ Another half-true, and he stands there a bit domineering. This tiny woman versus this 6 foot 7 man in armor. He won't come close to her though, he is distant and if she comes close he will back away.
At any rate, what he says next, is more somber and calm. ]
Whatever you think I am, I am not. This isn't my life to figure out, this is yours. I've already lived mine.
[ And he hated it. ]
no subject
I've already figured out my life. I am my home's will, my home's love, my home's grace, my home's light. I will fight until my lungs no longer breathe, until my limbs no longer move, until my heart no longer beats. The people who struggle and suffer are my utmost priority. The people who cannot defend themselves are my motivation. The people who have bright futures are my will.
This means everyone here at the grove is my determination. I will fight for their sake. You included. I don't need to know who you are. I don't need to know who broke your faith. I don't need to know your ideals, or your morals, or lack thereof. You are stuck here just like the rest of us, and you are surviving. But the only thing I will not allow is for you to tamper with the light of those who are doing their best. Who are you to say their fortitude should waver because you do not care? What have any of these people done to deserve that???
If you truly, truly do not care about the people here, then I ask of you to take it out on me and let their lights shine.
no subject
Stop, do not walk forward. Respect my peace.
[ The space between them is about 10 ft. Almost giving in to her wall of tenacity, Lancer speaks a bit more plainly. Hoping she will - more or less leave him alone. ]
I am a Knight from the past, I have lived my life already. I am no different from those ghosts you see waltzing around. Whatever you think I am you need to stop, I serve those who are living because that is what I am summoned to do.
I am stuck here, but I am only here to help you or any other escape. If I die, it means nothing.
[ There is a pause, and he reels his hand back to his side. Standing in attention. Minding the thick of her words, with an even-mannered look behind the mask of a Dragon. There is that boiling sense of anger, but he succumbs to the words that she speaks. With words that come highly spoken, and thick with fervent feelings of someone who has fought battles on behalf of others.
Cool eyes regard her somewhat, but he is still annoyed by her. Annoyed by her defiance, and trying to tell him how he should or should not be.
Perhaps, in some ways, he is also jealous. ]
If my own existence bothers others and makes someone question the light of their own life, then that is their own quarrel to fight with. Not mine. [ Basically, don't mesh him into your messes, and don't make him change himself for the sake of others - even if he wanted to. He can't change. Whatever problems people have, it is for themselves to overcome - maybe once he lived himself for the sake of others and helping them find their strength.
But that was then, and this is now. ]
Not everyone exists to bend about, how you want them.
[ Is what he says lowly, a flicker of anger and unbridled wrath can be discerned in his words. Something said, more to her being a woman than it is meant for anything of what she says. ]
no subject
Irene can’t understand that break in faith. ]
If that is the way you truly think, you are no better than the Forest.
[ It’s all she leaves him with before heel-turning and going back to investigating the skeletons… assuming Lancer doesn’t stop her. ]
no subject
It's women like you, [ THAT WHAT? He sees a flicker of Guinevere in the distance and he swallows whatever disgusting thing is going to say.] Never mind, you keep your misunderstandings. Whatever grievances you made up in your stupid head, have no quarrel with me. It wouldn't be the first time that a woman cried wolf when they saw another man - when they saw me.
[ You know this all stems from how angry he feels and how upset he sees her defend these supposed people who 'exist,' this pretend scenario she brought up. That caused this whole circumstance and the anger boiling within him can't subside - because he is living the pressures and burdens of what everyone WANTS from him all over again. Suddenly the Knight in the Cart trying to save a Queen, and people are laughing at him.
What about him? Where was anyone - hell, where was she, when he needed anyone to speak on his behalf? What about his light? What about his feelings? Even now no one seemed to care about them, and that bothered him. ]
no subject
I have no issues with seeing you. I have no issues with men, unlike your apparent distaste for ladies. I take issue with how you present yourself. I take issue with your uncooperative attitude. I take issue with your condescension. I am not "making up stupid grievances" or anything like that.
I-... [ Sigh. ] I may have been aggressive in calling out your behavior, and for that, I apologize, but if you think I'm going to say sorry for correctly assuming you're uncaring of the other people here or for my fucking gender, then you are wrong.
Is there anything else you want to say? Do you maybe want to say I'm a fucking idiot for wanting to get us out of here safely? That I'm a moron for believing I am capable of taking care of people around me? A tyrant definitely has those qualities, you're so right.
[ This is sarcasm. ]
no subject
I think you are stupid, [ He eats her words, and regurgitates it to underline his point. ] to think you would ever help the people you so claim to want to protect. When you act like that.
[ 'A prissy bitch,' is his dies down in his stomach where it belongs. Lancer is calming himself, reminding the temper eating away at him is his penance what what he had done to Camelot. What he had taken to others, and if he cannot bare that penance then what is he but a literal monster? So he steels himself, with a clenched fist.
Looked at her still annoyed and unsatisfied, glossing over the sexist undertones. Despite evidently there. ]
Know this about me, I serve the Human Order. I am a Knight of legend that has long passed. I have lived my life, and have died for it. I have then been resummoned again as a Servant. I solely exist to serve the Human Order and that, is it. Whatever assumptions you want to make of me, and think that I am doing to others. Let it die in your throat. [ Its in that moment between his sudden montage of words that, she apologized and ultimately he just presumes what actually is going on here is that HER feelings were hurt.
'I am sorry you specifically were hurt by what I said. But if you can't read the way other people are, then you're no different than that kid with the blue hair, who can't seem to understand boundaries.' Is what he says in his head but he fucks up completely, and very angrily and SHARPLY blurts out -] Sorry for hurting your damnable feelings. [ He almost adds: Get over it, but bites his tongue. ]
no subject
¿Quieres llamarme perra? Hazlo. Sin embargo, no te atrevas a insinuar que no quiero protegerte a ti ni a estas personas. No te atrevas a proyectarte en mí.
[ …Huff. Calm down, Irene. She’s clearly not getting through to this guy. He’s not going to listen to her so long as she’s a woman, is he? That just pisses her off more, really, but she swallows her pride. No use defending herself when it’s falling on deaf ears. ]
…I’m sorry you have lost your faith, caballero frio. I pray you can find it again.
NOT THE LATINA COMING OUT OF HER SOMEONE GRAB HER EARRINGS
Mild annoyance in himself, but also especially of her.
He says nothing but goes to brood in a corner somewhere. ]