sticksandbones | EVENT & TDM 029

Entry tags:

!event,
!tdm

EVENT & TDM 029

WAKE UP

A house springs up in Aldric’s Grove one day. That comes with the usual tidings of autumn — the leaves change colour, the air gets colder, pumpkins and squash start growing out of the sides of buildings and damaging rooftops, and people emerge out of caskets in square graves that have yet to be covered.

…

Yeah, all of that is normal. You may find that people here before you are willing to help pull you out of your grave, if you ask nicely enough. Maybe they’ll even tell you that you aren’t dead! Yet.

But don’t worry about that. Let’s worry about the house, which is inhabited by the dead — specifically a family of skeletons, who wave everyone, new arrival and old citizen, within their walls. A cloth sign hanging on the awning outside reads “BONE-JANGLES HAUZ! COM IN GET FUD”. The Bone-Jangles are a family of eight — Mr. Bone-Jangles himself wearing a sheet ghost costume for Halloween, Ms. Bone-Jangles wearing a pumpkin hat and an apron as she sets food from your homeworld on the table, and their six skeleton children (“children” may be generous, as these are full-sized adult skeletons, but is your baby not your baby no matter how old they may be?) are wearing various animal costumes. Bees, wolves, cats, the sort.

If you just crawled out of a grave, they permit you to use their shower before dinner. The water pressure is a touch too low, and the soap is several hundred years old, but it’ll get the dirt off.

You return to dinner with the skeleton family and several other Grove residents who came for the party, and despite the oddness of the situation, it’s a lovely time. At the end of the night, before everyone plans to head off to Roseroot — a city to the north, just over the mountains, which you are hopefully informed of by your peers before they all ditch you here to go on vacation — Mr. Bone-Jangles hands you a bag of microwave popcorn and an oversized chocolate bar. Trick-or-Treat!

A note attached to the inside of the chocolate bar wrapper reads in Ms. Bone-Jangles’ curly handwriting: “Be cautious on your journey tomorrow morning.”

You go to sleep holding the well-wishes close to your chest.

…WAKE UP?

What do you last remember?

You were somewhere. Not here. Not within this city. Were you at home? With your friends? At the bar, the cafe, one of the churches, the General Store? The Bone-Jangles’ house? …How did you get here?

…that’s right. The truck. A truck had barrelled through the woods a week ago, with two people stumbling out of it and telling you they could get you out of here. The truck was small, though — at most, it could fit six of you, and that was assuming all six of you packed light for the journey. You talked with who you were journeying alongside as you rode in the bed of the truck, while two others in the vehicle proper got to talk to the drivers. The ride had been bumpy, the car travelling at a medium clip through rough terrain. At one point, the car’s driver had shouted that those of you in the back should “hold on tight” and floored it, nearly jiggling someone next to you out of the back seat as you approached the mountains.

You did not remember the mountains being so close to the Grove. Weren’t they much farther away? You remember the—

The…

…

You’re in Roseroot! The truck comes and goes throughout the day, dropping people off before it turns around and heads out again. Some of your peers who were particularly fast or could fly might have opted to simply follow alongside the truck. Maybe if you can find one of them, they can help you bring your stuff further into the city? Where are you going to live from here, speaking of? In a house? A mansion? A hole-in-the-wall restaurant? You feel like you’re missing something as you wander the beautifully-paved streets on foot. You remembered to pack your toothbrush, right? A change of clothes?

The thought of “someone” comes to your mind, but the silhouette is blurry. A person nearby you asks if you remember two gargoyles with purple skin, and a shadowy woman with her turtle, and a kindly shopkeeper with salt-and-pepper hair, that they think they might’ve left behind in the Grove. You shake your head.

You would remember people like that.

THE CITY OF ROSES

Roseroot is a beautiful city, truly. Every building is beautifully designed, roses of all colors and sizes growing from the ground floor to window boxes to special trellises and even on the rooftops. It's almost overwhelming. A river flows through it, framed with stone sidewalks and curved wooden bridges. Warm streetlights line every few yards, illuminating it even in the dark. Museums and theaters can be found all over, and there's even an aquarium! … It's only got water and plants, but it's there. Truly, this is what one might expect from an affluent city dedicated to flowers and scholarly pursuits!

… It's just… empty. Not a single soul aside from the lot of you can be found. Businesses still provide services, but by who, and how? The answer eludes even the most curious of folk. If you choose to steal, dine and dash, break in to something, well. You can, and nothing is going to stop you. But the emptiness of it all is jarring, isn't it?

Of course it's not. This is how it's supposed to be!

As the days pass, however, the beauty begins to fade. Flowers wilt. A strange substance seems to grow out of cracks, creep up windows, grow. The beautiful sky gets darker, cloudier, drearier. A fog creeps in. And when you sleep- and you will sleep- you dream. Maybe it's the sweetest dream of your life, and maybe its a nightmare. Maybe it's something incredibly silly! What a pity that the dream doesn't stay in your head. Or stay as pleasant as your dream might have been.

Soon the fog is so thick, you can barely see the next streetlight. And you are no longer alone. But the trucks are gone, and the city borders seem to have vanished.

A PLACE YOU CANNOT LEAVE

The fog does not fade. But sometimes, you can hear something- just out of sight. The giggles of childish, cruel whispering. The sound of glass breaking, footsteps dragging across the pavement. Twisted beings born of your worst traumas shamble through the fog, lashing out, hunting, seeking, wanting. Every day the remains of Roseroot grow more dilapidated, some buildings even crumbling and collapsing while others cease existing all together. Roads vanish or twist to loop around into giant circles. Safety is growing limited, but how does one escape?

That may be on the forefront of your mind, but it's not something you can focus on- not while you're fighting off these monsters.

How does one get supplies when grocery stores are claimed by sudden bursts of an all-consuming rot? How does one sleep when those monsters could be anywhere, when one has to keep moving?

Fight on. Protect yourself. The way will show itself soon. You just have to outlast your pains made manifest.

MONSTERS ENCOUNTERED

This list will be updated as the event goes on, but feel free to pull from any monsters from our toplevel below as well in case updates are delayed!

An unholy, angel-like being found stationary in a warehouse. The top half of her body hangs down from a portal in the ceiling, and no matter which way you face, she can twist around to track you. Her wails and sobs cause hallucinations, panic attacks, dissociations, and crippling self-doubt; when characters are distracted, she will attempt to sever them with two oversized swords.

A shambling, undead, fully-armoured knight with seven swords stabbed into it, most of which through the back and one of which through the head. Each sword is engraved with words; five of them say “sacrifice”, one says “the one you loved most”, and the last says “hubris”. The knight wanders the city streets and attacks indiscriminately.

Seven assassins wrapped entirely in black robes and bandages to hide their identities. When they are being looked at, they become stationary, therefore they try to spread apart within their pack to keep most of them able to move. They move like glitchy robots with jerking and seizing limbs, yet are fast enough to slit throats in an instant, and largely stick to alleyways and tight corners to get a drop on someone.

A hand-monster called the Docent, who hides in the shadows and exacerbates negative emotions and insecurities. Even if you can't see it yet, if it's nearby, you will feel cold and miserable. Its physical form is made up of hands and if it catches you, it will add yours to the collection.

Mannequin-like people who look similar to Firefly, wearing plug suits and acting as mannequins in storefronts primarily. They will not "activate" until you come close to them, where they will be like dolls that creak and crackle and either start moving or pull themselves up off the ground to slowly chase you. They are dangerous in numbers, not as much as a single unit. They only speak if Firefly is around, saying things like "you let us die", "you didn't protect us", etc. By the end of the time in Roseroot, most will default be splayed on the ground all over looking dead, but they aren't.

The Swarm, a mass horde of diverse insectoid creatures with the sole drive to propagate and spread. They're big, and can hide invisible if they choose. They will start in small numbers, but slowly spread throughout the town during the end of their stay. They will swarm you and attack if they see you.

A young man with cat ears who has been burnt to a crisp and is still smouldering, who will wander the city and attempt to set people on fire.

A pack of small robotic bears with various weapons who run around indiscriminately and try to kill anyone they see. Despite how armed they are, they are easily defeated, but they roam in extremely large packs.

A phantom that specifically stalks Till, covered in blood and with several bullet wounds through various parts of his body. Characters who spend a lot of time around Till may have to watch out…

Shadows shaped like people on the walls, always watching, whispering, giggling, pointing. If one gets too close to them, they can reach out and attack like a particularly brutal child bully might- and like children, they do not know when they are going too far.

Shambling skeletons or rotting bodies dressed in strange village clothes, waiting to drag whoever they seek out into the earth.

An almost giant skeletal bird caught ablaze, trapped humans within its ribcage forming a grotesque heart. It does not fly, and molten poison drips from it.

Young men and women in a black uniform, half-gripping swords. Their footsteps sounds like bottles breaking. Soon enough they are accompanied by their killers as well.

A very tall priest in holy regalia... except his face is a mass of writhing blue tentacles of varying lengths, singing the song of the Seaborn. He shambles like he no longer remembers how legs work, swaying like a drunk almost, always wandering and reaching for his target. He sings a song of an unknown language, haunting and mesmerizing. If somehow you anger him, he will throw rocks at you... and if he gets his hands on you he will absolutely try to eat and/or assimilate you.

A monster that changes shape whenever you blink. It is normally faceless, and usually appears to look like some abomination-adjacent version of people you know.

A monster that wears clothing of a holy priest, with far, far too many arms. It "attacks" by trying to grab onto you and try to hug you almost comfortingly, while two hands strangle with rosary beads.

A creature that takes the form of something in the water- you'll never truly see what it looks like. But if you get too close to the river, something will reach out and try to drag you under.

A headless mannequin dressed in kingly finery, wielding a heavy sword. It wanders in search of one person, but will stop to kill anyone else it finds too.

An Ifrit, bleeding from a wound not unlike the ones Joshua inflicted upon Clive. It's furious. It's terrified. It will see your death done.

Shadows that, while not the most harmful things, will whisper, gossip and grab and pinch and punch and tear! They say things to characters reflecting their deepest insecurities. In short, the shadows are school bullies.

Two figures, a man and a woman, sewn together by the half. They bicker in a ghoulish language at each other, but are largely uncaring of others. When they find Zoey, they all but descend upon her, both wanting her for themselves and uncaring if they pull too hard in one direction or another. Their grip is like iron, and they're capable of tearing others in half.

A man-shaped monster whose head is a black skull. He wears a suit, tie, and gloves, and carries a rotating number of weapons- pliers, knife, scalpel, hacksaw, hammer, anything that might be used for torture, smeared with blood. Sometimes he just has a gun. He moves in an uncanny, inhuman jerk, and prefers his victims trapped and isolated. He will passively darken the area around him, turning working lights dim, and is accompanied by the sound of a power drill and his own creepy laughter.

Something dark, mostly shapeless, but the size of a large man, with bat-shaped spikes coming out of its head. Or maybe they're bat ears? He is able to shoot projectiles with deadly speed, sharp enough to gouge a hole in metal. They disappear like smoke once they've hit their mark. When faced more or less head-on, shoots a grapling hook at its victim with enough force to seriously maim, uses it to pull them close and break their bones. May appear suddenly from behind and break bones before you have a chance to react. He moves sometimes as a literal shadow, but when outside of shadow form, moves with grace and speed. Sometimes his presence is accompanied by flashbangs, smoke, and the sound of radio static or ringing in your ears. Otherwise, it is completely silent and doesn't even breathe.

A monster wearing armour and carrying tomahawk axes, with crablike appendages protruding from her abdomen that have pincer-claws. The semi-congealed gore that drips from them can be sprayed at enemies. As she talks, she claims to know "what you really are" and can absolutely back that claim up.

A brutish monster that is constantly on fire. He moves quickly enough to "blaze past" you, and likely set you on fire by proximity. Otherwise, he boasts impressive and inhuman strength.

A doll with swords through it that leaks toxic ooze as it moves around. Slow and moves around pathetically, looking as if in pain, and moving as if crying. Gives hugs instead of attacking, but the swords through it will hurt you if you let it, and the toxic ooze feels akin to acid.

A shambling amalgam of corpses and heads much akin to the Cramped Casket that pulls itself with its many arms across the ground. It easily spans around 12 feet tall. At the very front of it of it is the upper half of a young boy. It attacks by slamming itself into the ground where you stand, and is otherwise silent... unless you are Elsword, in which case it asks, "why didn't you save me?"

A monster that looks like a pirate that's on fire. Permanently. To most, it only appears to be leaving scorched earth in its wake. To Mizuki, it looks like everything around it is burning. It attacks with a cutlass, and otherwise looks mostly humanoid.

An ambling monstrosity that easily towers any house and building. It moves slowly, and seems as if it's "sliced" down the middle, with two "heads" and a mangled body. One arm carries a harpoon, one arm carries a kitchen cleaver. They mutter conflicting questions that, if you answer, you'll be contradicting the other. "Should we go left?" "Should we go right?" asked simultaneously, so answering "yes" would be answering both. Things like that. To kill it, you have to pick a head to cut off, and if you choose wrong, it instantly grows back and you'll have to try again.

A small, cute puppet with a circle of knifes protruding from its neck. It constantly cries and attacks by trashing around like a child. It doesn't even seem to be aiming for anything specifically, but its thrashing is so wild and erratic the knives in its neck are bound to hit you anyway if you don't put distance between the two of you.

An angel with wings and a halo of light that towers around 10-12 feet tall. It's head is replaced with a bouquet of flowers and it's hands are fused together in a constant prayer.Everywhere it walks, it leaves flowers behind, but they wilt and decay and rot within seconds and stay as a stain upon the land. It attacks by summoning blades of light from the ground under your feet. If you listen closely, you can hear soft singing.

A cloaked being with black crystals growing out of it who floats along the ground. It freezes anything it touches solid in blackened ice, and a trail of said ice follows after it. The air becomes frigid when it is close by.

A loud, ravenous monster that is majority mouth with waaay too many teeth. More dog-like than human shaped. Does not have eyes and thus cannot see, but can hear a pen drop. While it will bite to kill, it plays with its food. Lashes with claws and attempts to do anything it can to hurt you as much as possible before you break.

A mass of black crystals, the shape appears to be in that of Faust. Its arm is replaced with that of a crossbow. Its bolts are enough to shatter concrete. Despite being made of stone, it is very fast.

A monster that takes the shape of prey animals, starting off as smaller ones, then becoming larger ones as it stalks you. It does not necessarily attack, keeping a distance. But the more it watches, the more starved for food you feel. You haven't eaten in a while, have you? Are you hungry? Are you going to die because you can't eat? Aren't you just a waste of space if can't kill something to feed yourself? Killing it won't be easy, as it is fast, but if you do manage to, it will fall to the ground immediately as rotten, disgusting mass of meat that is not safely edible. The monster will spawn in again as it's smaller form all over again if not eaten.

A small army of husk-like creatures. They're just so hungry. Won't you help them? Won't you feed them? They appear like demons, with the stronger ones looking like some of Mystery's old friends...

A large, train-sized worm patterned in purple stripes. They have four eyes above their gator-like mouths which are full of sharp teeth. Their backs are ridged with green shark fins. Sandworms burrow through the ground at alarming speeds and feast on the dead along anything else they can catch. They aren't picky.

Spark Notes

summary

WAKE UP: Good morning! It's autumn! New arrivals are crawling out of graves, Mr. Bone-Jangles has invited everyone to his house, and everyone is having a nice little family Halloween get-together.
…WAKE UP?: Do you remember your old life? The people you left behind? ...of course not! You barely remember the truck ride over here! Welcome to Roseroot! Enjoy your vacation!
THE CITY OF ROSES: Roseroot is a beautiful, empty city. It's clearly a wealthy place, connected with nature, but you lot are the only ones there. ... That's how it's supposed to be, of course. But something forces you into sleep, and when you dream something awakens. ... Now that it's awake, something is making the city rot.
A PLACE YOU CANNOT LEAVE: The city is falling apart, rotting, vanishing and looping into itself and you are not alone. Monsters born from your trauma are out to hunt you down. Thankfully, they can be killed. You just have to keep fighting, even as places of rest and food dwindle rapidly.

out of character

Hello everyone! Welcome to our October TDM. This is a reminder that TDMs are considered game canon. This is our last TDM of 2025! November-December will be check-in AC and we will be back to our regular schedule with a TDM in January 2026. If there are questions, please hit up the toplevels below.

updates

None yet! Important updates about how characters interact with the log and change the course of events will be placed here.

submissions

❖ Questions
❖ October Plotting
❖ Past Life Plotting (Closed to Game Members)
❖ Investigations

code

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's funny in an ironic way when the fog rolls in. He's so used to it from the Nest that it's almost like he never left. The biting winter chill, the fog, the howls of unknown horrors beyond his ken. It's like he's been shot right back there.

And like in the nest he's... fine? For a few days at least. Before the loneliness gets to him, before the paranoia sets in, before the howls seem too close--

But it worsens day by day, and soon it's a fight for their lives. He's not sure what drew him out this direction, or if it was simply the only way he could move forward without getting spotted by the skeletons and other monsters he knew were on his heels. Either way he sees Kyojuro get knocked back, and he sees the monsters start to swarm.

... He knows there's not much of a choice in this situation. With a deep breath and all the strength he can muster, he rushes out and yanks Kyojuro away from the crowd of monsters, just enough to avoid the attack they'd prepared. ]

C'mon! Run!

[ There is no room for debate, he's tugging Kyojuro along behind him, the question is if he's going to go with him or not. ]

[At first, all Kyojuro can really do is stumble along beside Aira. All he can hear in his head is the sound of shattering glass, of a man's voice roaring his every failure into his ears. He doesn't even seem to process who is pulling him along until the slash of a sword just barely misses Aira.

His body shifts then, speeding up enough to practically be at Aira's heels. His frame is just broad enough to take the worst of the blows, should any come. Thankfully, their pursuers are slow and shambling, driven on by another force than their own bodies.]

I'm right behind you! Keep moving!

[ He's trying, really he is. He's not particularly fast, but he's had to run for his life several times over now. Thankfully the threats currently were slower than the ones in the nest. He could outpace these long enough to find a hiding spot.

It takes longer than he would like, his legs are shaking by the time they are able to rest. Even then Aira doesn't really let himself breathe. He's digging in his bag and pulling out strips of cloth. ]

Wh-where are you hurt?

[Both Aira and Kyojuro seem to have the same instincts. Though Kyojuro still drips with blood by the time they come to a halt, his first instinct is to reach for Aira, both palms setting on his shoulders as he turns around.]

Breathe first, Shiratori. In and out. [Kyojuro's own wounds can wait. The further they pulled from the other slayers, the easier it became to recall his training. Using total concentration to staunch the blood flow to his wounds was a grounding task, in and of itself. Though lingering blood still drips from his skin, nothing else is pouring out.]

I know it is hard, but sometimes you must help yourself before you help others. So breathe.

[Kyojuro's own breaths become exaggerated, trying to create a metronome for Aira to time himself to.]

[ Much easier said than done. His breath hitches irregularly, like he's fighting back the urge to cry, and a horrible mournful howl fills the air, caught somewhere between that of a wolf's and a cry of anguish. Closer than before. Aira tenses, but tries his best to breathe ]

'M sorry-- 'M sorry. I was trying to help but I..

[ Closer inspection sees that he's worse for wear. Bruising around his wrists, various scuffs and scrapes. Nothing terrible but definitely had a rough time out there even trying to sneak. ]

[Kyojuro finds his own form tensing in kind. He thinks of those nine faces again, and of the wolves the demon that killed them summoned. It doesn't bode well for the two of them, this much he knows.]

You don't need to apologize, Aira. You are doing well. Binding my wounds is a very smart decision, you were right to go for that.

[In fact, he even offers his arm up. The scratches are only slightly deeper than surface level, but they'll prove a hindrance if they aren't treated soon enough.]

I will let you look over my wounds, if you let me examine yours. Quickly, mind you. I suspect we will not be alone for long.

No... he's been after me for a while, I think he's following my scent...

[ He says this softly in response to the comment about not being alone for long. It's only a matter of time before it catches up to him. For him, a church bell rings ominously in the distance.

He works quickly. For a non-combatant he is scarily familiar with wrapping improvised bandages, tying them firmly, but not too tight.

He looks him over, probably adjusts the ones for his chest while they have a moment before letting Kyojuro look him over in kind ]

... I got too close to a wall.

[ Is the excuse he gives for his scrapes and bruises. ]

[It is a little strange, how easily Aira wraps and adjusts the bandages. For all his insistence on not being able to fight, or to have anything to offer at all, he is certainly adept here. He would have made a fine kakushi in the corps, at the very least.

None of this is mentioned, mind you. Instead, Kyojuro offers a rather speculative look to the young man. He doesn't quite believe this excuse, but he won't press the matter, either.]

We should keep moving, then. While I will gladly fight to keep whatever stalks you at bay, I suspect you would be none too pleased if I tried.

[ He is in fact, not joking. The giggling shadows will show themselves at some point, but Aira can hear the whispers still if he listens. His name and a few out of context rude phrases, just like in school. He doesn't have time for it, but he still feels the sting, like a twisting knife.

He doesn't linger. He gets back on his shaky legs and offers Kyojuro a hand up. ]

I still don't know if the hellhounds can really die or not...

[ There's... an almost helpless tone, as though killing them would be a mercy. ]

I don't want you hurting yourself more... but I don't know how we'll get out of here either.

[Though Kyojuro does not need the hand, he accepts it anyway. He's quite serious about ensuring that Aira feels useful around him. Perhaps it's not the best time for it, considering their predicament. Then again, maybe that's what makes the timing perfect.

In any case, Kyojuro is moving as soon as he's properly standing. His blade is out, but currently there's no intention of using it.]

We keep moving, then. We search for an exit, and we do not let them catch up.

[If Aira does not want him to fight, then Kyojuro will do his best to avoid it. He hates running away, but it's all he really can do right now.]

I did check where the exits were as best I could... the existing ones aren't where they used to be.

[ It's not good news but it saves them the trouble of trying those spots. Not that he'd have left without his loved ones anyway.

Despite stating his preference for them not to fight, he notably doesn't oppose Kyojuro getting his sword out. Whatever his desires, the reality of the situation was that it might come to that anyway. ]

Hey... Kyo-nii? Where do you usually store things you don't want to break?

I would suspect not. Whatever is working against us would not want our escape to be so easily won.

[It would be easy for panic to set in. They are in an unknown place, against an equally as unknown enemy. Worse still, said enemy seemed to know more about them than they should. Tactically, they were at a severe disadvantage. But Kyojuro had been in worse positions before. A train consumed by a demon, a city filled with bombs, a demon that could keep him from moving with just the sound of his flute. He has overcome all of this and more.

This will be no different.]

We will find our way, Aira. Consider this my promise to you.

[At Aira's question, though, Kyojuro can't help but quirk a brow.]

I cannot say I make a point of carrying breakable things with me, in my work. But... [He taps his chin, then shifts back his haori. Carefully strapped to his side is a traveling garden, containing one (1) aloe plant.] If I must, I keep it close to me, and I do not let it take damage.

[Honestly, it's a small miracle it hasn't come to harm yet.]

[ Aira nods in response, wondering where the least likely spot to come to harm would be on himself... He pulls out what looks to be a gem of some sort, pink at the center and tapering into a pale yellow. For now he puts it in his bag, cushioned by the supplies in there. Kyojuro may be able to tell it's not a normal rock. ]

I wouldn't say it's especially fragile, but even minor damage to it is... bad. I didn't have much of a choice but to bring it since we were leaving the Grove...

[ To say the least. scratches can alter memories, cracks could erase them. if it loses color then they've lost everything that makes them who they are. If it broke he would die, that's all there was to it. ]

[Kyojuro watches the way Aira handles the gem. Even without the explanation, Kyojuro recognizes that it's a very important within his hands. Perhaps that's why he swiftly moves, removing the haori from his shoulders and holding it out to Aira.]

I would like to keep this safe too, if you would not mind. You could wrap your gem in it, in the meanwhile.

[It isn't entirely true. Kyojuro prefers to fight in it. It is the symbol not just of his family, but his role as a Hashira. But if even the slightest bit of cushioning might help keep Aira safe, then he will gladly offer it up.]

[ Sir he found you with a hole punched through you and you were still wearing it. He could call your bluff very easily. The look he gives says as much, but he does accept the Haori anyway. He's sure if he knew exactly what this was, he'd insist on it. ]

It's probably better if I explain later...

[ The Haori is very carefully folded, with the gem inside the folds, and then placed into the bag. ]

... Were those people you knew..? A lot of the skeletons that have been running after me were... recognizable.

[Listen, technically he didn't have a hole punched through him at the time! It had healed! Don't be rude.]

I shall hold you to it.

[When there is less of a pressing danger, he thinks. And certainly not because he will absolutely freak out about Aira running around with something so delicate like that.

Ah, but... he quickly finds himself hesitating, It is a difficult subject for him, one of the few regrets he actually has in his life.]

They were my colleagues. The first slayers I served alongside. I was the only one to survive our mission.

[ The only one... well that certainly colors his desire to protect others as much as he does. ]

I'm sorry... It must have been a difficult mission, then...

[ How else could so many of them die? It's a very dangerous profession from what he could tell. Getting in over their heads... That probably happened a lot. ]

It was. By the time I arrived, the nine of them had been slain, alongside several children. I had been... too late to help.

[For years, he had grappled with that. Even now, he still considers it one of his greatest failures. And yet...]

They were the reason I lived on, though. With their dying breaths, they signed to me, letting me know that the demon was capable of disorienting me with a single blow from his flute. I had only seconds to rupture my ear drums and block out the sound.

Well... I guess it's not comforting that they died, but... at least you were able to defeat what killed them right? that demon can't hurt anyone anymore and that probably helps them be at peace, don't you think?

[ That was the point of the slayers, if he remembered correctly. Maybe if nothing else he can take comfort in that he did right by his fellow slayers... And he's clearly hearing fine right now or else Aira would be absolutely fretting out of his mind about the ear thing. ]

It can't be a coincidence, then... I was wondering why things felt so similar to that place...

I think you are right.

[Even if they were not very at peace anymore. Now that he's further away from them, he can't help the pang of anger that surges through him. How dare their memory be so desecrated by a place like this? It sickens him.]

It feels not unlike the arts a flesh eating creature I once encountered would use. The Lower Moon we encountered sent us into our dreams in order to pick us off while we were vulnerable. The only difference is that those were pleasant dreams.

[For the time being, at least. He has no doubt they would have shifted dramatically, if he had lingered any longer.]

Edited 2025-10-07 01:52 (UTC)

Lower moon..? Is that like some kind of rank?

[ That's how it sounded from how it was used at least. A lot of this stuff went right over his head admittedly, but he was trying. ]

These... are definitely not pleasant. Even the water's been changing just to scare me.

Ah, yes! The twelve kizuki were separated into two separate categories — upper and lower moons. Lower moon, as you might expect, were powerful enough to have status, but significantly weaker than their upper moon counterparts.]

The water has changed for you?

[He can't recall having seen the changes himself.]

Oh, I get it, so the lower the number the more dangerous they are.

[ He averts his eyes for a moment at the question, though ]

... You remember I mentioned ending up somewhere between here and my home, right? Well... when I arrived there, it was in an island settled in the middle of a blood ocean. So all the water here... seems to turn to blood when I get near it. Or I assume that's why.

In a manner of speaking. But Upper Moon Six, despite being a higher number, would still be far more dangerous than Lower Moon One.

[Kyojuro winces at the very thought. Not only does it seem like an unpleasant sight but...]

I have not seen such a phenomenon. [He pauses, hesitant to bring up his own issues.] What does the air smell like to you right now, Aira?

Yeah, I figure being noted as upper and lower makes it pretty clear who's stronger. They're like different groups.

[ But that thought is promptly derailed by the question he's asked. ]

Maybe a bit like blood, but nothing really of note otherwise...

[ His head tilts as though to ask why, but seems to catch that its insensitive to ask before he voices it. ]

EVENT & TDM 029

iii

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)