MOD EVENT #001

[oblivium]

A CHAOTIC RESPITE

It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.

On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...

“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”

...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?

► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)

When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.

“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition. It's the absence of the lantern that is contributing to the wood’s unusually active malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”

So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.

It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.

► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.

No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.

Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you: I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?

If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.

the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail.
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.

.

► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME

Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.

Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.

“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”

And without further ado, let the festivities begin!

► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.

► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.

► Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.
► Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
► Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
► Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
► Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
► Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.

. ► HARVEST HUNT
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.

► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.

► III. WAYWARD SUN

The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.

---

ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
► You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
► For a little spooky ambience in the woods.

Comments

[dreamlords]

You're not vulnerable and you would never admit that you are vulnerable if you were in your right mind.

[ leaning in, he eyes her steadily, sternly. ]

And you know that I'm right.

[seaboard]

She listens very seriously, paying rapt attention even if perhaps she ought to ease it some. Nodding, hands in her lap, eyes training on him as she takes in his words and tries to decipher how it might apply.

"So by directing it onto another surface it... does not become so difficult to bear inside your mind?"

[coherer]

...

Uh, okay. Cool.

(jonas has to prevent himself from probing further about the "sure," forcing his attention forward.)

So, like, where are we even going? Isn't this the way to the Academy?

[pissoffbook]

[Unfortunately, she's more concerned with the enveloping shadows to notice the dual-natured smile. When she's released, she kicks her foot a little to make sure she's actually free, then steps up to meet him, weapons still in hand.]

Fine, fine. Where are we going?

[damnpire]

[Quietly, he watches Jonas sit up, partially because he's a watchful person and partially to make sure Jonas doesn't tip forward and land face-first in the dirt below. Humans should have compliments, he thinks. Their humanity is strangely precious to him. An incredibly fragile thing, gone in the blink of an eye to someone like him. Full of a weakness that could get them killed.

Yet here they are, persisting. Living on. Often caring for each other.]

It's him, [he confirms, still watching Jonas through his lashes. For a long moment, he's quiet, like he won't say anymore. But then he says:] If he's gone, vampires will finally die out. Humans will have a second chance to rebuild in the world they had previously destroyed.

[fallingsand]

"Ah, yeah, actually, that's a good way of putting it!"

Bruno wouldn't have thought to phrase it that way, though the way she does, it cuts straight to the reason for doing what he does when searching for specific futures. He offers a smile for that, for that understanding.

However, he does feel the need to add, as before, "But I can't do much of that when I get one at, well, random. Maybe if I never left my viewing room and all its sand but that's... that's not realistic, y'know?"

[zauneyete]

Maybe.

[ He admitted, but even so... ]

Where I'm from, everyone pays protection, no matter what the business is. Keep the enforcers out of someone's business, keep the gangs out, and protect them from other... competitors.

[ Hell, that's what they'd always done in the lanes. It had never stopped, no matter who had been in charge. ]

I suppose other places could do it differently.

Hence starting with some place innocuous first, to see how deep the need goes. Besides, this guy isn't going to suspect anything.

[zauneyete]

[ For Silco, former friends are enemies. lol. lmao. ]

Messy. [ He chided. ]

Those are headaches, though. You weren't wrong.

[terraria]

( his back tenses. seeing the figure before them, he makes sure to rake his hands through his hair, as if making sure to be presentable before he takes a few steps forwards. it's not enough of a distance between the two of them that she's out of earshot, but he needs a good look at him.

he doesn't answer her question, not immediately. )

If we hear it, why haven't others?

( it's the same thing with the harpies. this forest has him on edge. )

I'll try to speak to him.

[invinciblemikey]

... Yeah. I had a dream once, you know. It kind of all went to shit, and some people can't accept it. That's the headache.

[zauneyete]

Hm.

[ He says it, but while most of Silco's notes of affirmation are... mild, this is drawn out, and there's a slight twitch to the skin around one of his eyes. ]

Difficult business, when your dreams fall apart, isn't it? Some refuse to accept that the changes are necessary, and... well.

They'll have to learn to deal.

no worries, i'm always down for backtagging

[wrists]

[ it's increasingly obvious that the peculiarities of her body are a private matter, a secret he's stumbled onto in a most unwelcome manner. he's heard of a very few people bearing features like this, mostly exotic services in the brothels of vere, and he's never seen a body like this before. certainly he's never experienced one in this particular manner.

laurent has no one to tell. he has hardly made any friends, only acquaintances that he keeps getting into arguments with. but he doesn't need to share that particular bit of information. ]

You're ashamed. [ he fixes his impassive stare at her, though he's unsure if it'll have the same effect with her face. ] Of this?

[janescayre]

[One hand is cupped by two delicate palms. Fukawa turns to snap at the other girl — she needs to take this seriously, there's a murderous hag right behind her — and finds herself stopping short.]

What? [Fukawa's head bobs back, affronted.] Wh-what the hell do you mean, there's no one there? Just look—

[Look, indeed.

Ikusaba is still there. This time she's slumped over the table, face slack, eyes wide. Several spears jut out of her torso like spines on a porcupine.

Fukawa wheezes. She's cringed back, hand to mouth, biting her knuckle hard enough to bruise. Taking refuge in Rudbeckia's shadow, using her body to block the view. Don't faint, she repeats to herself. She's seen bodies galore in Towa City. She managed then. She can do this.

In spite of herself, she begins to nod.]

There...th-there isn't anyone. Is there?

[This place plays the strangest tricks on people. She'd seen the little feats of magic being played all round, from the first day she arrived. And even if this is the land of the dead, a place Ikusaba should be found? Nobody here flashes from hale and hearty to a bloody corpse in the blink of an eye.

Fukawa's lip trembles. She can't meet the other girl's gaze.]

Y-yeah...I w-want to go.

[Away. Far away. The crowd has turned stifling all of a sudden.]

[zangetsu]

（ ichigo, who's remarkably more astute than most people give him credit for, leans over and nudges jonas' shoulder. ）

'Sure' because I'm not good at this shit, not 'sure' because I don't think you're friend material. Not really a feelings out-in-the-open guy.

（ just to be reassuring about it. and then at having his attention drawn to their route, he blinks down to his feet as if surprised at how far from the bustling crowd they've truly come. ）

I guess. Have you been there?

[invinciblemikey]

They deal... Until they don't. I don't think you can relate that much. Tokyo's not all doom like you make Zaun to be.

[zauneyete]

Perhaps not.

[ He says it, because Silco doesn't like giving things away. He'd had a dream once too, but he wasn't about to share it. ]

With all these different, unusual worlds, it's to be expected that one looks for either the similarities, or the differences. Since there was no place like Zaun, Silco did aim to look for what he did understand. ]

Cool. I will backtag into oblivion! Also Cw: body dismorphia

[pissoffbook]

[Her hand clenches into a fist and she looks away. Her tone is quiet, hurt.]

Do you know how much I loathe myself? Because of that goddamn mutant body I...

[She grits her teeth, unable to continue.]

[pissoffbook]

[When he goes to rip his shirt, she caught his hand, her grip strong.]

No! I said they'd heal!

[It's not the first time she's gone around soaked in blood.]

Right now we gotta figure out what the hell to do. We can't just stay here.

[pissoffbook]

[Kainé doesn't dwell on such things like what their story is. She and Arrakis are here to do a job. That's it.

When he hands her the lantern, commenting on how heavy it is, she snorts as it almost goes flying with the force she grabs it, thinking it's heavy. She's about to slice open one of the corpse's arms when she turns and looks over her shoulder back to Arrakis, sensing something is amiss.]

You okay? You don't have to stay in here if it's too much...

[fallingsand]

Huh, where I'm from, everyone just... works... together?

[ Including in ostracizing him but that would be a whole different can of worms to dig into. No one had to pay for anything. There simply hadn't been currency apart from what had made it into the valley and that became more of a keepsake than anything else.

Cities must be very wild if they needed stuff like that... ]

Sooo, if you don't find what you're looking for here, you're just going to move on to something less innocuous?

[zauneyete]

[ Silco looked up, and squinted a single eye at Bruno, as if he was trying to figure out if he was making something up, or not. What the hell, dude? Who lived in a world like that? Even Piltover was cutthroat and the high-born would not hesitate to eat each other alive, if it meant there was an advantage in it.

Silco literally cannot comprehend of such a thing.

Then again, if Bruno tried to describe his village, he would have been stunned by the fact that there weren't that many people either. ]

Right, well, in most places, people generally don't help out of the... kindness of their hearts.

[ Said with a sarcastic lilt, before he turned to continue paging through the books. ]

But yes, if this yields nothing, I'll look at the next most likely location, to figure out how deep their operation goes.

[chokuto]

[Jonas' reappearance earns a pointed look to the scarf, but no comment or criticism about 'leisurely shopping' is forthcoming from pursed lips; his mind is too caught in its circle of misery even for that. No, Sakura was not in the clinic — and seemingly neither was she at the markets. He should have known. In this situation, a casual stroll even to purchase additional medicinal supplies would be negligent on his former teammate's part, yet he can't shake the impulse of fury as it burns in his throat. Betrayal, as if it is within her control to return his body to him. Paranoia that she is enjoying this opportunity.

A furrowed look of confusion lands on Jonas as he summoned over to the bench. Yet step by step, hooked to the promise of a lead, he goes.]

What did you learn?

[Grumpiness magnified like a pall around Sakura's body, Sasuke takes the seat beside the boy at the other end of the bench.]

[fallingsand]

Kind of a shame they don't...

[ Bruno's just a small-town boy living in a lonely world (also known as in a wall but yeah, that song sure doesn't go that way). Anyway, Bruno does eventually stop lingering in the doorway uncertainly as curiosity got the best of him. He stepped into the office and checked a few of the cabinets that had gone untried by Silco thus far.

One did happen to open, although this one, he found, was full of — and this did not surprise him in the least — tea. Stock that had yet to be put out, anyway, or perhaps a private stash for the owner himself. ]

Huh. [ Yes, he was going to pick up a bundle of dried leaves. ] I should have figured they'd dry that firstdawn stuff out to keep around longer.

yes, good to end! ty for the rp ;_;

[nagano]

[ Please do not beam hentai directly into his conscious. He doesn't need this. Being dead(?) is hard enough without also getting h— ]

It bleeds the fastest when palpated between the fourth and fifth rib with a sharp implement... [ Is that a joke? ??? Kaito?????

In any case, her tease (or thinly-veiled promise) earns a snort from the empath—followed by a small smile. ]

Hundo or none-o, I've dealt with worse consequences than extending a hand to someone who probably knows how to use scissors in sixty or more unintended ways. Don't get distracted by anyone pretty on your way back.

[ Gloved fingers waggle in a wave, and when she disappears into the thicket, he casts a sharp gaze in the opposite direction.

The night's still young, and he feels a familiar aura in the distance.

Time to go. ]

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's eyes drifted to Bruno, to watch him pick up a bundle of the leaves.

Was he going to (gasp) take them? ]

Isn't that how tea works? I'm not a fan of the stuff, but...

[ But was there any other way to have tea? Silco flipped idly to the next page, his eyes flicked from Bruno, and back down to the paper, looking over the next line items. ]