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.

janescayre: (179)

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-24 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a yowl and a twist as the dirt strikes true. Most glances off her spectacles, but enough hits the whites of her eyes that she has to let go.

That little rat.

She rolls to hands and knees, coughing, spitting (anything but sneezing, not yet dammit), heaving hard and letting the tears flow heavy. Let it clean her shit out. Through the fit she can hear his hurried footfall, sprinting away at top speed. She could catch him if she was quick.

Instead, there's a laugh. Long and braying, hoarse from the dirt.]


FUCKING COWARD! [Syo spits on the ground. Damn, how fresh was this fertilizer?] I BARELY EVEN TOUCHED YOU!

[Good thing, too. As her breath returns to her, so too does a trickle of reason. She's got a vow to keep. Puh-lease. It's not like I was gonna kill him!

Which then begs the question: what was she planning to do?

Syo rises to her feet, scrubbing the mess from her face. Her blades have been dirtied but there's enough clear red to paint an enchanting picture. Vivid scarlet against a metallic sheen. He really was a stunner, huh?

Boy, she's in trouble now.]
redsoil: — PLEASE CREDIT! (Default)

[personal profile] redsoil 2022-10-24 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
You might regret that.

[ For all that his voice teases, there is an undercurrent of danger that crawls in the midst of his words. Deadly, and jovial about it; as Set straightens, he beckons to Eddie, indicating without any hesitation that he ought to follow him to the marked entrance.

A red lantern hangs from it, along with the further instructions: prey will get a three minute head start, and then the hunter will be permitted to enter the maze and seek them out. It is a vast section of corn, carved into a myriad of dead ends and faux killboxes, loops and structures designed to allow the prey areas to hide and evade litter the length of the area -- and dead center, there is a wooden structure designed to provide a vantage point.

Somewhere, there is an exit point, but no one knows which direction. ]


I am a very good hunter, you see. I won't take it easy on you, simply because you're a charming human.
janescayre: (005)

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-24 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
[What a coincidence, neither has she! Hence why her mind sinks so quick to depravity: she has a boundless libido and zero outlets. Fukawa does have the good sense to feel embarrassed when there's a scandalized feedback, though it's quickly swaddled in indignation. What, so now she's an impure freak? Just another nasty pervert compared to a perfectly chaste angel, pure as the driven snow?

Oh, forget it. There's bigger fish to fry here. If it's not DID, then what...

Fukawa's brows knit together again.]


We're soulmates.

[Hold the phone.]

We're soulmates?!

[Oh, goes that mysterious third voice, as Fukawa's will to live seeps out of the soles of her feet.]

What?! Why? Why would they — th-that's not fair! Nobody even asked m-m-me!

[There goes her hopes of bonding with Byakuya-sama, should he ever show up. Fukawa's face is in her hands. There's a prolonged groan, maybe leaning on a growl. Life couldn't show her one lick of kindness, now Death sees fit to follow suit.]

Ugh. This is s-such bullshit. You can't tell me you're happy about this either. We've both got t-total lunatics ruining our lives behind our backs!
fawcetted: (4-506)

[personal profile] fawcetted 2022-10-24 03:19 am (UTC)(link)
What the fuck

[ He looks from where Syo had just been to the window she's gone barreling through at a height he doesn't think he could reach without a vaulting pole. He flaps a hand at it incredulously like, are you freakin' serious? before he goes to jiggle at the nearby door, with no such luck. It's locked.

And never mind that she just totally made fun of him in a way that makes him feel eerily like the tables have turned on him, and it's high school, and cheap shot name-calling is the tactic of choice. Never in his whole, privileged life has anyone ever deigned to call him anything like that, and he sure as hell doesn't like it! ]


How?! How the hell am I supposed to jump into a building like that?!
appeale: (try spotting dry)

[personal profile] appeale 2022-10-24 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
Not die? [ she laughs weakly. ] She only mentioned the Artifact... and that person on the phone earlier said the woods are alive?

[ the further into the forest they walk, the closer at Zagreus' heel she follows, until a sudden, sharp snap—twigs? branches? bone?—has her clutching at his arm. ahhh, she hates this. she hates this! dying wasn't something she had to worry much about in her previous life; in Rudbeckia's life, it became a much larger priority, with a death foretold at her husband's hand. but even then, it was mostly people she'd been worried about. she didn't have to traipse through creepy forests or go on shitty quests. how is it that everything gets worse each time she dies?

her vice grip on Zagreus relaxes, but her hand remains, slender fingers curled around the inside of his elbow like a lady being escorted. it can't hurt to keep a hand on him. knowing her luck, she'll trip and get lost if she isn't careful. ]


W-Where are we supposed to find a lantern in this huge forest?
ulfrkysst: (vatns er þǫrf)

[personal profile] ulfrkysst 2022-10-24 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
The Shadowlands—

[Most of her time in the Shadowlands is an adrenaline-clouded blur, Óðinn telling her all the ways she wasn't worthy of feasting in his hall, the way she was doomed to freeze in Niflheimr—

But then he's charging her, and her Sight opens up: she's able to quickly plant her feet firmly enough to avoid getting flipped over, but he still hits her hard, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Choking, not at her full strength, she grapples his arms and pushes back like they're a pair of Rock Em Sock Em Robots.]
prozaic: (008)

[personal profile] prozaic 2022-10-24 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
Of course I did. The way they sang and danced, their movements captivating and all their energy focused on themselves and their script... [shalem sighs, a small, sad smile on his face.] I wanted to feel that for myself.

Surely, it would have been... freeing, to be someone else for but a moment.

But I cannot carry a tune to save my life. [on the contrary... he can, otherwise he wouldn't be alive today. he's just lying.

but the wistfulness of his tone as he described his peers on the stage was not faked in the least.]
zauneyete: (kickin people off bridges)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2022-10-24 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe.

[ He says it bluntly. Silco wasn't a fighter, he never had been. ]

I've never been particularly strong, so why shouldn't I focus on the ways I'm more effective? Leave the fighting for those who like to use their fists.

[ The details though, say clear enough, that Silco hadn't exactly been getting out of every fight he'd been in. Sure, the major scar was covered, but there were plenty on his face, and of course... the eye...

Well, maybe he was lying, or maybe, more accurately, he'd been in exactly as many fights as he'd needed to get into in his life.
]
zauneyete: (Not even close to done)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2022-10-24 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ As one king to another, he says. Silco wonders at that. He considers him not a king, but a leader, certainly. No kings in Zaun, and he's nothing more than a man who'd scrabbled and scraped his way from the mines to smuggling, and then to a failed revolution. It was only pain, betrayal, and loss that led him to where he had been -- carefully constructed revenge against the world around him, against Piltover, Vander, and to take Zaun into the relative light.

Set asked him a question, though, and Silco focused on that, instead of fighting him on the statement. If he considered him a king, Silco wouldn't fight him on that.

He tipped his head up, considering.
]

My ideal... [ The only person or thing that wouldn't betray him, of course. The ideal, the very condensed spirit of Zaun in one person. There's one person Silco would consider to be the ideal, trustworthy, the one who'd shared his vision for the future.

And she'd shot him in the stomach, and killed him. Yet, Silco would trust none other.
]

Wild, and free. Untethered by society or norms, willing to do whatever was necessary. Brilliant, and sharp as a knife. Someone who knows what our shared goals are, and is willing to pursue it, above all else, and anyone else.
exilire: <user name="squarebox"> (pic#15905883)

[personal profile] exilire 2022-10-24 07:45 am (UTC)(link)
— No, [ she grows momentarily serious again, dark eyes stern, brows furrowed - ] I'm not. I've been drunk, lots of times.

[ the sloppiest of arm movements, like an inebriated orchestra conductor as she lies on her back on the soft bale of hay. it's pretty nice down here, morpheus. ]

This is not that. The drinks weren't even alcoholic.

[ she does have a point about that. ]
cruelyethuman: (0012)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2022-10-24 11:24 am (UTC)(link)
"Are you referring to the ruins? Then, yes."

In fact, the Darkling never stops looking around. His gaze sliding over every detail. Taking it in, looking for the flow of power that must have moved through here. "Or do you mean them-" as he looks up at the harpies, their shrill laughs echoing across the barren fields, spiralling up against the dark night sky.

"Excuse me?"
dodgeouttahell: (23)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 11:53 am (UTC)(link)
And you don't believe we could? [A little hopeful, terribly optimistic, and definitely a tad challenging. Zagreus still knows the perils of this place, even if he doesn't know from experience yet. He's heard tales from the fishermen at the bay, the merchants that come from other places and stop to take a breather and a drink. Zagreus had mostly listened quietly, already ingratiated himself into the group enough to be able to remain in the oddest hours of the workers' haunts.

He tilts his head to make it easier for her and closes his eyes.
] Wow, even my face?
damnpire: (pic#12040332)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 12:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[A ripple flows out over him from where he head connects with his arm, a warm and fuzzy sort of sensation thrilled to have existed even for seconds.

Logically, he thinks this is weird, but spiritually, he can’t find it within himself to worry about a damn thing going on right now.]


That man was right.

[At least D thinks so; he clearly has similar philosophies. About humans mostly, not really himself.]

When people stop feeling, they forget their empathies.
damnpire: (pic#12042624)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 12:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[It was only a Big suggestion… Sasuke is so funny, but D continues to not mind this terribly uncanny version of his logical self.

He can’t really dissuade Sasuke from any of this, so he won’t.]


You may satisfy my question more than you realize. The horseman. What did your eyes see of him?

[He isn’t sure if Sasuke will divulge anything which is fair. Very Sakura of him. So he adds:]

The horseman had no smell.
damnpire: (pic#12094812)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[His hands settle like before, but don’t try to pet anything. It must mean he’s getting a better grip on himself through the slowly fading effect of the nut.

Definitely not eating the nuts again.]


What happened to your other wing?
damnpire: (pic#12042813)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 01:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[NOT BISKY AND HER BAD OPINIONS

He can’t believe he is just going to have to drape her over a hay bale like he had been after the Grablenut and leave her to whatever strange devices these foods have.]


You’re already dead, so should you go into the bale now?

[He delivers this with such monotone, but it seems like he’s… teasing…?]
dodgeouttahell: (25)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 01:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Chuckling at his own joke, he's a little relieved. Unaware that Jonas feels embarrassed, Zagreus only picks up that he follows through, laughs, and even eggs him onwards to something else. However, Zag isn't exactly the best at puns regarding pumpkins. He's only learned of their existence very recently and doesn't really know many other musicians that Jonas would recognize.]

Ah, blast. I don't think I know the musician you're mentioning. [He shakes his head. Struck by a bashfulness that doesn't seem to dissipate since he arrived, he realizes this sheltered life he already knew he had led is getting really old.] But if you're asking me… Hmm, I think he looks like a Rusty. Or maybe a Ginger?
damnpire: (pic#15956286)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 01:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[help baji]



[D accepts this obnoxious, gremlin finger like he accepts most other things: stoically. His cheek dimples in under the pressure the finger offers him.

He looks like he’d be cold, like the corpse his skin resembles, pale and tinged gray. But he’s actually very normal and warm.]


They exist in the world I’m from.
damnpire: (pic#12094809)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-24 01:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[D, trying desperately to stay in his own lane at all times: makes the mistake of talking to Laurent and Silco who want to stick their fingers in the Hierarchy honeypot.

Not that he doesn’t want to speak to them either. Just not the way Laurent had in mind.]


The Parliament House is heavily guarded and has no entry except by invitation.

[He isn’t dissuading Silco so much as telling the man the avenue of breaking in is unfruitful.]
janescayre: (167)

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-24 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[Chicken.

He immediately eats dirt, which lets her cut the distance between them from yards to inches. It's only dumb luck that saves him. He might feel her swipe at the poncho as he hoofs it, fingers failing to claim an iron grasp.

Not that she minds. It's all fun and games! What's the point if the round's over before the starter bell stops ringing?]


That's more like it! [She's barely winded, cackling with delight. Keeping pace with too much ease, always just one hair out of reach.] Where's the exit, huh? Where where where? Can you make it in time?

[Annoyance is a basic tactic, but an effective one. Flustered folks rarely made wise decisions. There's a three way split ahead: the guy can either keep going straight, hike left, or swing right. If she remembers correctly, one of them is a short cut to the end. She'd staked out the lay of the land pretty thoroughly once she made it this far, and then backtracked to spook some goofs.

It would be really funny if he did make it out. She'll give him a gold star, A+. ]
janescayre: (143)

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-24 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[She chances a peek up when he calls her off. Forgive her, there's a tear or two that's leaked loose. It's just so fucking unfair. How was she supposed to prove herself trustworthy when she's got a lunatic hitching a ride in her head?

He still looks furious. There's still a knife in his hand. And it's still so dark out, and she has no idea how she got here. There was a call for help from Serene, yes, and she could remember making the trek to the city. What happened from there is a mystery.

Then there's a horrid clatter. Smashing. She pulls up even more. The handsome man standing aside had dropped something? A lantern?

Wait, she does remember that. The Mourning Lantern.]


You — you broke it?! [Fukawa crawls back up on unsteady legs, posture still hunched.] Isn't th-that the thing that was keeping the trees from attacking?

["It's hardly my fault," intones the man. "You have only yourself to blame." Fukawa squawks.]

Excuse you?! You were the one holding it! M-moron! [She starts pulling at her hair, loosing a growl of frustration.] Great! J-just great! Now what are we supposed to do?
dodgeouttahell: (15)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[Wait what.

He has so many questions?!??!!? HELLO???
] Uh, what… exactly… made you change your mind? Wha...

[Something flares in him that he tries to subdue straight away. Do the laurels on his head seem to thrum and heat up? Maybe for a half second before he shakes his head.] I thought we had decided I'd do it.

dodgeouttahell: (13)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 03:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[He wonders what's that about, that slight moment where those wings lower, the dazed look in Aspen's eyes at the sight of the first flame.

He does grab a container with liquid (tea, really) and pours it over the embers of the lavender. The herb hisses, the smoke flaring further still and wafting higher. No need to leave an open fire unattended.

With a slight mutter in the name of his birthright, he thanks Lady Tykhe for her wisdom.
] I don't, or at least, not me personally. But it's hard for people to stop worshipping their gods even in death, even when those leave them to others to rule them. I heard that the goddess of luck doesn't like it when you don't leave her incense or a herb. [A shrug.] I figured it wouldn't hurt, that's all.
dodgeouttahell: (11)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)
I didn't say you were—Whoa! [Well, so much for a smooth landing, as his ankles are promptly tackled by a kitten-like lady. Mad props, though; he has to hand it over to her for such agility.] Alright, you got me! Now what?
dodgeouttahell: (14)

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-24 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[The snap does make his head swivel quickly toward the direction of the sound. While Zagreus isn't really a stranger to danger or even his own death, it's not as though he knows woods, forests, and vegetation that isn't part of the soft blurriness of Elysium. He's curious more than anything, but he's not surprised at all that Ruby is spooked. He's well aware that the motifs in the House he grew up with are considered frightening by many, such as its denizens. Without even much of a glance, or a thought, even, he takes hold of her hand on his inner elbow and guides it to curl further, much in the way he takes Nyx's arm when she needs to be taken somewhere, not for support or anything of the like, but deference, respect. He keeps it there, still looking away and around them.] I suppose we should find a light where it's dark, right?

[He sees something in the distance. Soft.] See, over there? Maybe it's that way.