neckromancy: (Default)
[personal profile] neckromancy
Alright, given the state of how things have transpired rather recently enough, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for me to do my part in bringing back a bit of levity.

No offense, darlings, but quite a few of you have been looking a bit... Questionably rough in not the most flattering of ways. Therefore, out of the kindness of my heart, I come to you all with an offer; I happen to be quite well versed in the ways of a couturier, and have found myself with a bit too much free time in the rare moments the world is not going to pure and utter shit around here.

Should you find yourself wanting fresh, less worn clothing, I have some materials I wouldn't mind putting to use. Feel free to jot down such requests here, or draw out a design for me to glance over. Applications will be completed from the order of what I find most interesting to work on to the ones I find the most boring, so do try to have at least a little creativity concerning said designs.

And, of course, should you find yourself in need of repairs rather than a new wardrobe, I am quite capable of handling that as well. Payment in the form of valuables is preferred, although I am willing to accept the promise of a favor or two should you find your pockets too empty to meet such requirements.
purevanillacookie: (007)
[personal profile] purevanillacookie
[The script that appears in the netbooks is new, elegant. A little... scrombly, as if the person writing isn't used to fingers (he is not) but it's legible.]

Greetings, my name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, please forgive me intrusion, but I was told this was the way to reach out to everyone. I have been given some information about this place, though I must admit I am have a difficult time understanding some things, and there is one question I have which I hope others may shed some light on? Has anyone else woken up here in a body not their own, yet with enough similarities to your former body that you can see the resemblance?

[Haha, what.]
oleaeuropaea: (All Good was Taken)
[personal profile] oleaeuropaea
Who: Vash the Stampede and YOU!
What: Vash has a breakdown.
When: The day after Saint Nick came to town
Where: On the Edge of the Grove
Warnings: Mild disordered eating, Vash related Vashing. Is there even a hook to this? We just don't know.
Read more... )
simplicitas: (025 @Byomewa)
[personal profile] simplicitas
[Good morning everyone who thought the netbooks were going to be used for something normal, Elsword woke up and chose violence today.]

I have some questions

Is a ceiling a wall?

Is the ocean soup?

Is water wet?

If tomato is a fruit, is ketchup a smoothie?

Thanks

EVENT 006

Nov. 3rd, 2023 09:24 am
sticksandbonesmods: (Default)
[personal profile] sticksandbonesmods
SOMETHING WICKED
FROSTED MORNINGS
What can presumably be called Halloween comes and goes, and perhaps for a time things are… normal. Or close enough to it, in a haunted, possessed forest where time blends together. And then it’s cold. Frost forms on the windowpanes in the morning and dusts the grass and leaves, and soon enough it begins to snow on and off, gentle as can be. The Trader finally dismisses her turtle summon, and now the tent she keeps feels smaller and perhaps emptier, despite Goldie having been outside the entire time. As time progresses and lapses, there is a persistent aroma of chocolate in the air, intertwined with the crisp chill of late autumn and early winter. Both the Trader and the Shopkeeper keep a pot going at all times, with the thickest, creamiest hot cocoa you could imagine, always served in an almost-too large mug.

One morning, as you go about your day – maybe you’re getting some winter clothing from the general store, or out fishing — the Trader stops you.

“Come here for a moment, please? I’ve developed something for the lot of you. Hopefully it will help.”

She holds out a leather-bound book with blank pages. When you write in it, the writing also appears in the others.

“It’s for communication. Just remember, nothing is private in these, so do be careful. And polite.”

Otherwise, it’s a lovely day. You get the feeling every time you go near the fog that something actively wants you dead, but that’s… probably nothing. It’s not like you have the Golden Glasses anyway — or maybe you do. …Well, you only need one attempt to step through the cracks to know that entering the forest officially means you will be attacked immediately. Try not to die.
MISCHIEF MISBLAMED
It starts out small. Something missing, found in another person’s room. Pinches whenever someone passes by. Something tugging at your hair while another person is behind you. It’s a little suspicious, isn’t it? But the only possible suspect always says it wasn’t them.

More things go missing. Pinches become scratches and bruising grips, gone just as quickly as they came. Hair-pulling becomes painful yanking, and more than once you may feel a harsh shove — especially by stairs or in the inn’s kitchen. Sleep is hard to come by as things get pushed off your shelf all night, or your blanket keeps falling on the floor.

You’re tempted to shout at the person — or people — next to you. Accuse them of pushing your tea onto the floor like a cat, or call them out for hiding your necklace, or slap their hand away from where there’s a scratching at your neck. Perhaps it clicks then that they might be too far away, or that they’re not the culprit. Or perhaps it doesn’t, and you’re suddenly really, really tempted to punch them square in the jaw.

As time passes, the true culprits become a little more visible, until finally you can see little shadow people, flat against the walls and floors until they reach out, laughing at you. And laughing, and laughing. Even as knives fly through the air, even as you fall to the ground, even as bone breaks.

You’re not going to know much peace this month.
AN ONSET OF DREAD
Beyond the thick fog that surrounds the Grove, something is watching you. Even going inside doesn’t spare you the feeling, even if the hot chocolates provide comfort. There’s something standing in the distance, visible only out of the corner of your eye but always gone when you turn to look. Something looming behind your reflection, too distant to make out but always there until you turn. And then, it laughs.

Eventually, it shows itself. A grotesque monster built around your worst fears, all merged together. Always watching, sometimes smiling in anticipation. You see it standing outside the window from afar, or following you across the grove but vanishing before you can charge to it yourself. You hear it when you’re trying to go about your day, dealing with awful pranks and the heavy weariness that comes with the lack of sleep. Sometimes it manifests right before you, swinging at you before it vanishes again, leaving you with only your racing heartbeat and whatever injury it may have left.

As time passes, it only gets worse. For however confined the Grove is, it truly feels cramped with these monsters stalking you, chasing you, hunting you. When they’re killed, they rise again from their own shed corpse like a snake molting from its skin, stronger than ever. And they’re coming for you.

You’ve already discovered that fighting them won’t work — it’ll give you a few moments of respite, yes, but they’ll inevitably come back to you. Maybe you can wait it out. Or maybe there’s another way to stop their advance?
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
FROSTED MORNINGS
There's hot chocolate in the air (and also in a mug) and you can now communicate long distances via network notebooks ("netbooks"). Have fun, be nice.

MISCHIEF MISBLAMED
Little pranksters want to Get you. They'll get more hostile and even murderous throughout the month (although they'll spend the first half of it trying to frame other people for their crimes).

AN ONSET OF DREAD
Abstract monsters based on your fears are following you. You can't kill them, but they can kill you. Maybe there's some way to stop them?

OOC
It's November, somehow! If you'd like to plot with people for this event, head over to OOC plotting. Our locations pages & FAQ were updated within this last week, so please read through those when you get a chance. We have an interest check linked below for a future plotline as well and would appreciate feedback on that post (or just an "I'm interested" comment) as well!

UPDATES
❖ None yet!

sticksandbonesmods: (Default)
[personal profile] sticksandbonesmods
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
sticksandbonesmods: (Default)
[personal profile] sticksandbonesmods
I AM THE WILD
WAKE UP

You open your eyes.

It feels like you’ve been here before, like you’re finally home. Today, the sun shines brightly, brilliantly, on the open forest clearing making up Aldric’s Grove. Vines wrap around old buildings, overgrowth covers ruins of what once were homes and shops, and weeds poke up through the cracks of foundations. Before you stands an inn, a well, and one hundred beautiful flowers peppered throughout the clearing. Be not fooled by their beauty, wanderer; should you stray too close, the flowers are happy to bite.

Fret not, however; should you seek escape from the carnivorous foliage, the inn is plenty safe from attacks. Perhaps you ought to get acquainted with others like you, lounging in the lobby with nowhere to go. Perhaps you should find yourself a room, a place to stay. After all, room and board is completely free of charge! Should you dig through the bedside table of your new room, you’ll find only one thing within: A Polaroid photograph of yourself from years ago. You were younger, then — or, if age doesn’t define you, you were different. Still, you remember posing for this photograph… don’t you?

If the photo is too much for you, a trip to the river might offer respite. The oppressive fog wrapping around the grove and obscuring much of the distant forest some miles out won’t let you wander too far. Luckily, there’s a stretch of river perfect for a round of fishing, playing in, or simply relaxing by. Mushrooms grow along the banks and on the trees, but remember to say “thank you” to the forest if you take them. You wouldn’t like the consequences otherwise.

HEY

cw: madness, hallucinations

You might have had luck avoiding the gnashing fangs of the flowers thus far, but they begin to get restless and aggressive the longer they go without feeding. They can’t quite uproot themselves and chase you down, but they will stretch their stalks as far as they can, unfurl their petals and try to wrap sharp leaves around your legs and anything else within reach. If you aren’t careful, their fangs will pierce your flesh, and they will drink from you until they drain you dry. Shout for help if they latch on. Surely someone will come to your aid.

…just try not to look at them much. The flowers take passive abilities of anyone they feed from, and that means they possess powers of their own. Stare for a moment too long, and you’ll begin to see your nightmares brought to life, feel a crawling down your back like one million insect feet, a grappling at your ankles as something tries to drag you under the metaphorical tides. Black tendrils sweep over your eyes, they grip the facades of buildings, they tear your friends to shreds and eat them whole. Focus. Focus on that voice telling you to snap out of it, on the people around you waving their hands in front of your eyes. It isn’t real. Blink, shake your head, and clear your thoughts.

Or don’t. “Give in,” a sultry voice murmurs, “Let me consume you.”

IT'S ALRIGHT

cw: auditory hallucinations, animal butchery

From the fenced-off, locked-up manor to the northwest of the Grove, a spill of magic begins to leak out from boarded-up windows. It’s gradual at first before it suddenly bursts, and that’s when everything starts to go haywire. The Manor’s heart aches, friend. Something in that house is oh-so-miserable with no way out… and it intends to make you feel its pain.

Every regret you’ve ever had — every word left unspoken, every lie you’ve told, everything you believe you’ve done wrong — those feelings are brought to the surface and magnified. No matter where you look, what you do, or how much you try to distract yourself, those emotions will always bubble to the surface.

You might think wandering into the forest will help you flee from yourself for a time, but as soon as you cross the threshold, the path back to the clearing closes behind you in a rustle of leaves. The only way out is forward, it seems, but the forest won’t play fair. The path will shift unexpectedly, blocking your route, forcing you to backtrack, but never quite allowing escape. All the while, voices fill your mind, chasing after you no matter where you go. They are the murmurs of those you have wronged, the murmurs of a conscience slighted.

Seeking out a companion in the labyrinth will quell them, for a time. Should your heart weigh too heavy, confessing to your labyrinth-partner what you’re grappling with will absolve you of your guilt and leave you feeling clear-headed enough to escape. At that point, the forest, too, seems content to let you solve the maze without interference.

Should you escape fairly, without harming the labyrinth, you’ll be rewarded: A freshly-hunted game animal from your homeland is dropped at your feet just as you step back into the clearing. Enjoy it, for you will not have the opportunity to get another. The forest only allows one round per person.

I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU

The residents of Aldric’s Grove have had a rough time here, but not everything has to be bad. On the night of the new moon, the Shopkeeper leaves his store for the night, and alongside the Trader — who normally sits outside the inn by her stall and her giant turtle — he constructs a bonfire some distance from the carnivorous plants. Nearby to it are tables with a feast set upon them, free for everyone to enjoy. There’s music playing from… somewhere. Don’t think about it too hard. The wispy, sentient shadows that comprise the Shopkeeper and Trader are happy to dance with you, too, if you ask.

Enjoy your night, friends. You’ve made it to the end of the month, and you deserve a break.

SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
Welcome to Aldric's Grove! Watch out for the carnivorous flowers. There's a photograph of you in the inn, by the way. Don't worry about it.

The carnivorous flowers are now causing visual hallucinations and madness. Try not to look at them too long. Maybe buddy up for the time being, to make sure that the forest's whispering voice doesn't drag you too far down.

A flood of magic hits the Grove. Characters will be subject to reliving and re-experiencing all of their regrets, and should they wander into the forest to escape, they'll be made to play in the forest's maze game. The forest won't play fair, but seems to relent when you confess to a companion what's on your mind. And hey, that makes your heart weigh less heavy, too. At the end of the line, you'll get a reward of fresh meat as long as you didn't try to cheat!

The Shopkeeper and Trader are throwing a lighthearted bonfire party. Dance the night away and eat your heart out!

Welcome to the third 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.

❖ For those who enter the inn in the morning, a breakfast spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, smoked fish, roasted tomatoes on the vine and assorted fruits wait for you.
❖ Several patches of the murderous flowers seem to have been electrocuted, lit on fire or cut.

TDM TOPLEVELS!