oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-10-06 01:15 pm

MOD EVENT #001

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.

dodgeouttahell: (36)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-19 04:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Bad kitty, bad! [Still leaving embers on his trail, he skids around a corner and is still trying to reason with her, throwing over his shoulder as he runs, his dash blurring him intermittently from time to time to gain some ground.] I thought cats enjoyed warm things? You can curl up around my feet instead of chasing me around
dodgeouttahell: (Default)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-19 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
It's a herb, yes.

[He crouches and draws a circle in the ground. From the center of the ground, he draws lines that lead to its curve: a wheel.] The goddess of luck where I come from favors incense as an offering. If not frankincense, maybe something else to burn to call out to her? It could help us find a way.
janescayre: (005)

this boy 🥺

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-19 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[She cracks her eyes open when he speaks again. His hands are up. Halt, whoa now, slow down. He doesn't look at ease but he's speaking lower, slower, and making softer pleas. Her breath has yet to settle. What's with this sudden change of heart?

h̟͚̦e͍͇̠'̢̝̞ș̙̘ j͎̠̠u̡͙͖s͓͙t̙̻̞ p͖͎͕l̞̪̝a̺͇͜c̢͕͇a͔͕͇t̻͍i͙̟̠n̻͎g̡̢͓ y͔̠̙o̪̻͖u̞͍͉

The way he pales doesn't promise much. But he doesn't run. And he listens, fetching back the facts instead of screaming bloody murder.]


Byakuya-sama. [Said instantly, when he fails to procure the name. He carries on quickly but she has to fill in a fair few blanks herself.] Sh-she...so...she still says she's retired.

[That she wanted to cut their future husband to bits isn't news, but she had been worried whether the urge was amplifying. The leash on them both was severed, and only Fukawa was left to hold Syo back. Hard to do when only one of them could hold the wheel at a time.

She flinches. Stares at her feet. She's not scratching her scalp anymore but the fingers drag through the locks all the same. Migrate to a loose tangle, worrying it as she flips her options this way and that.

The truth. It's the only way out of this. And the only chance that she'll be spared a measure of mercy.]


Th-that bitch has been ruining my life since I was a kid. I thought maybe b-being dead would... [Sever them. A different fate for each girl, or at least a shared dissolution into nothingness. But it hasn't worked out that way.

She huffs. Her shoulders are practically hitched to her ears.]


It's a split personality. Okay? It's n-not me, it's just my stupid body being jerked around by someone else. And — she's d-doing a lot better now! We both are! So don't listen to whatever crap she says! It's just hot air!

[i͖̠͜s̙̪͖ t̝͙͙h̠̪̪a̝̪͙t͇͙͇ s͕͖͖o͍̞̻?̼̼̻ w͖̻͜h͚̫̼a͎̼͔t͎̫ a̺͍̝r̦͙̟e̟͓̝ t̡̞̫h̼͓͎o͚̠̼s̠̙e͉̺͇ m̘̼͎a͖̙͓r̢͍͙k͔͇̞s̝͚̦ a͇̻̼r̼͉͎o̙̺͎u̺͇̪n̝̟͕d̻͚̘ y̢͚̺o̢͖͔u̠̝̙r̠̻ f̢͙̝i̞͎͕n̦͇̼g̘͍e̡̟̺r͔̦͉s̼̝̠ f͔͇̘r̙͙̪o͕̻m̘̝̠,̼̦͓ i̢̞͜ w̻̟͇o̙͓̺n̻̞̻d͓̪̞e͇̫̘r͕̦͖?͇͇̫

Fukawa snaps her hands to her chest, clutching at her torn up neck tie. He wouldn't be able to guess just by looking. Probably. Maybe.]


B-but...you shouldn't t-talk to her anyway. Don't encourage her. [This feels like putting a band-aid on a broken dam. She wets her lips and takes the boy in, frowning. He didn't seem like their type. Maybe he'd skate by scot free, if he kept his nose out of things.] Who are you, anyway?
Edited (Missing words) 2022-10-19 21:26 (UTC)
dodgeouttahell: (27)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-19 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
She was the one who raised me. [Although he won't go into detail about who his real mother is—everyone else but him seems to know already! He lifts the skull pauldron on his shoulder, letting her reach beneath it, lest there's actual blood stuck there, too.] She's lovely. Strict but supportive. Somehow she does manage to strike that balance very well. But then again, she sees everything, most of everything, at least.

[He has caught himself looking up and wondering if she was watching.] That sounds like a plan, though. I look forward to it. Oh, hey, your ear? [He reaches to clean at her earlobe.] There.
windsongs: (73)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-19 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She isn't 100% sure who his mother is, but she can make an educated guess. But knowing that the Netherworld seems to pull people from odd places in their life (she's becoming increasingly unconvinced that any of them actually died), she won't voice her theory. ]

I can tell she means a lot to you. I know that isn't always guaranteed with family, especially the ones you might not be directly related to.

[ It's small, flickering for just an instant, but there's a weight to her words that doesn't necessary come from outside observation. It's hard to tell if Hibiki even notices it herself. She carries on as normal; moving her hair out of the way, her nose scrunching as he manages to find a nick on her earlobe. ]

I've got my theories on where that might be, but I don't see us being able to go there anytime soon unfortunately.
damnpire: (pic#15956295)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-19 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Humans fighting other humans is inevitable, but you don't really fight each other as prey, or for sport. [Not unless someone is a sociopath which he understands is the exception here.] It isn't about humans ruling so much as humans not being hunted or enslaved by something with more physical prowess. The trouble humans cause each other is their own. The playing field is biologically level.

Plenty of places have tried to co-exist, but it never works.

[The two faintly glowing eyes--dimmer now that the effects of the food are wearing thin--shift over to look at Jonas.]

I don't. [Fit anywhere, he means.] I'm neither human nor vampire. There isn't any place for me.
damnpire: (pic#15956294)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-19 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Your metabolism may be fast.

[Mikey, your Grablenuts... As long as Mikey doesn't try the vile bliss drink. Not that he would know from experience or anything...

He shakes his head gently.]


Thank you, but I decline. Some of the children might take them.

[Will Mikey share with kids...]
damnpire: (pic#12231838)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-19 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Stop. He just thinks he's a vile crechure is all.]

You're a teacher.

[It isn't a question, but it's almost said like one. As if she has plenty of opportunity to correct this assumption.

His arm comes up so fast it blurs with the motion. He catches the apple out of the air in his palm, looking indifferent to the effort. He doesn't eat it.]
exilire: <user name="islas"> (pic#15937340)

[personal profile] exilire 2022-10-19 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
It wasn't different about a quarter of an hour ago, was it?

[ at least, not that she can recall — her memory is steadily becoming a little fuzzier, and as much as she knows this warmth is related to the grablenuts somehow, it feels as though there's a veil being pulled over her consciousness.

she blinks, swaying suddenly a bit on her feet as though the earth is tilting beneath her, but catching herself just in time. morpheus stands stock-still where he is, so it can't be the ground moving, it must be her

still dehydrated. she turns her attention to the glasses of liquid lined up in a neat row on the vendor's table again, with a brief nod. ]


...I think I may need to drink a bit more.
damnpire: (pic#12042672)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-19 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[...

Typically, he'd just take whatever he's offering back because he rarely will fight anyone on accepting things. Unnecessary. But this time, he lifts the folded cloth and deposits it directly on the top of her head.

And before she can try to give it back, he immediately turns away so he can do a little "investigative" exploring nearby while he listens to her.]


This was after the announcement was made?
damnpire: (pic#15946969)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-19 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ah yes, the malice and paranoia. This tracks.]

That's what most religions are for.

[The Frontier has them, too. A few linger around from an extremely old world, but Christianity is still the most prominent. It's a vehicle of hope, and optimism, and fulfillment for the humans who usually suffer. He's not sure if Silco would understand, or, better yet, agree of its necessity. So he doesn't argue.]

It's unlikely I died, but not impossible. This seems like purgatory. A holding dimension.
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● downbeat.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-19 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
( phew. d can undoubtedly feel the tension seep out of aspen, muscles becoming slack. )

That's good. Those Reapers have it coming.
nastycat: (pic#15293913)

[personal profile] nastycat 2022-10-19 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[Should she have felt something? Because she was looking at these dead guys and not feeling a thing. It wasn't as though she knew them. She was perfectly content to just leave them there.

So after a moment of squinting as Red neatened up the bodies. She spoke.]


I wouldn't be back if I didn't have a head.

[She'd either...heal a new one when revived or not be revied at all.]
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● quiet.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-19 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
( he smiles, warm and amused all the way to his blue-violet eyes. )

No need for apologies. It's a pleasure to meet you too, Rosa. What a beautiful name.

( gently, he puts her leg down, standing. it's only then that he's able to gently place a hand on her head. )

Now please, be careful. If you need any help, don't be shy and share the burden - we should all take care of each other here.
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● affected.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-19 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Y... yes.

( his head is still spinning; he responds almost numbly.

he doesn't speak until a second after, when he's abruptly whispering: )


Don't. Fly. You'll hurt yourself.
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● attached.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-19 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
It's entirely possible they just wanted to create chaos, true... but I wonder why they would pick that in particular, then.

( he wonders idly as they walk. in the dark and fog he begins to squint, and after a moment of thought, he quietly casts a spell. a large orb flickers to life above his free hand, and he reaches back to grab dimitri's hand in the same movement. the scent emanating from the magic is calming, lemongrass and orange peel, and aspen glows a thin gold as the orb of light radiates heat.

he hears it. music.

and in doing so, he glances over his shoulder at dimitri with pursed lips, as if to say 'let's stay quiet'. he gently brushes his hand forward, letting the orb float before them as they walk now. though he doesn't show it on his face, aspen grips dimitri's hand tighter, like a scared schoolboy gripping onto a classmate. )
nastycat: (pic#15293909)

[personal profile] nastycat 2022-10-19 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[Enjoy your new white fuzzy tummy, even if the fur thinned enough to see a belly button.

Meanwhile Izutsumi was still marveling over not having fur everywhere. Or being able to smell and hear everything. It was like being in a bubble. All she could do was shamble away from the crowds of people, flexing her fingers.

It didn't matter how much she flexed them though, the claws wouldn't come out.

Okay...she was a normal tallman now. It'd been her goal for ages, now she was tallman, she wasn't sure what to do. Izutsumi was going to start walking, heading to the poundcake stands. Everyone had loved that and she'd not been able to taste it, she wished to know what 'sweet' was.]
telepathy: (125)

[personal profile] telepathy 2022-10-19 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ mavis doesn't react to izutsumi's approach. her thoughts blend in with the ambient sounds of the harpies. almost animal, not quite human, nothing to worry about. quiet, peaceful. like the forest, not the city.

it's a reprieve for her, really. cawing harpies and threats of death and all.

she stops short on the path, in front of the harpy's corpse where it falls to the forest floor with an almost wet sound as the soil gives under its weight. you never heard that noise in the wilds. the earth was too hard, just like everyone else.

mavis steps over the corpse, bends, and pulls the knife out. then she lifts her eyes to the tree branches.

what kind of person doesn't sound like a person?
]
telepathy: (125)

[personal profile] telepathy 2022-10-19 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ that sounds like bullshit. the discomfort comes through loud and clear, though. mavis doesn't soften her expression in the long silence that follows. that almost accusatory face holds.

it is the crowd, ultimately, that makes mavis' decision not to press asa just now. it is too loud, too terrible, and she can't hold the thread. a wince passes like a shadow, and she grunts, clutching the side of her head.

she tries to shake it off, voice turning snappish as she says,
] You don't know me. Why does it matter if I'm okay? Worry about yourself.
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● shot-caller.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-19 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Goddess of luck...

( he rummages through his pack as he thinks. )

Lavender and rose are the most common, along with holy basil. I do have some lavender here...

( but it's fresh. he frowns at the stems of lavender he brings out but after a moment, he closes his eyes and focuses. the scent of lemongrass lingers as he casts a spell, glowing a faint gold. in his palm, the lavender stays still, but water seeps out from underneath it through his fingers. )

Mm - still not completely dry... but it's the best my magic can do right now.
telepathy: (25)

lemme know if you'd like me to edit this!!!

[personal profile] telepathy 2022-10-19 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ kaito, kaito, kaito. she only knows so many names. it doesn't take that long for her to place that one. his rambling makes it easier, too. he'd done that, before.

fuck. did it have to be him?

she grabs the cloth, but she doesn't bring it to her face. instead, she brings her other hand up to grab the back of his neck, as if drawing him nearer for a secret. but she doesn't speak. she just feels along the pebbles of his upper spine, where it joins his skull.

there's nothing there. no metal device to tell on him, to justify why he shares her perception. the surprise flicks through her expression with just a hint of revulsion. if he isn't one of them, then —

she had wished, for a long time, for someone like her. someone who would understand what it was like, who might help her, as kaito offers to now. she had found the former, and they had betrayed her, turned to kossos. become one of them. as for the latter? it turns out that now that she has it, she has on idea what to do with it.

she shoves him back, instead, looking down at the fabric in her hand like she's trying to make sense of it through the pounding of her skull, like all the many footsteps of the city's population crammed inside.
]
regression: (pic#15851208)

[personal profile] regression 2022-10-20 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ Joonghyuk, internally: nice. This puts him in a better mood over being lorded over and having very little control over this body. ]

I'm visiting, not mooching off of someone else's weak body.
appeale: (can you point out)

[personal profile] appeale 2022-10-20 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ huu, what a cold expression. already, her nerves are shutting down in a learned anticipation of violence: a numbness that starts in her fingertips and spreads to a white noise sensation through her hands. her smile doesn't falter, and she twirls a lock of golden hair around her finger, shy and sheepish. ]

Um... We had a text conversation. I asked if you would teach me to fight. [ she hastens to add: ] I-I'm not here to bother you about that or anything! Sylvain is going to teach me.

[ Because you rejected me, you bastard.

she didn't want to have to ask Sylvain for a favour this early. the whole point of using Felix was that there would have been nothing to lose; she didn't need his patience or his good opinion, neither of which were possible for her to attain anyway. if he'd helped her, she wouldn't be putting any strain on a lifeline. but someone like Sylvain is different. kindness and courtesy are limited resources, and she's wary of borrowing too much. ]


I guess I never introduced myself properly? I'm Lady Rudbeckia de Borgia.
regression: (pic#15851185)

[personal profile] regression 2022-10-20 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ it could be like nier replicant where you're so far into the future you're suddenly medieval

Hey. He's just used to having to drag people because their reaction times are slow or they'd be flummoxed at the sight of the monster house. It roars behind them...?
]

I think Puck is telling this story.
regression: (pic#15851395)

[personal profile] regression 2022-10-20 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
They're not worth understanding.

[ Joonghyuk says that only because he has grown to hate them very early on... And everything that happened to him after only validates and tempers that resentment. There are exceptions. There always are and it has changed his views on being so black and white, but he still firmly believes powerful voyeurs can rot.

He doesn't linger on that hatred for long. They have an objective here, which has him snap over to Zagreus and grabbing his wrist before he can stain the shard.
]

At least use a clean knife.