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

[fallingsand]

[ Nearly a compliment, but only nearly. ]

O-oh, is it?

[ Ah, there it is, that hint of nervous energy breaking through the tea. While he hadn't seen any problem thinking about such a task, the chance of that actually coming to pass is... a little more worrying. Only not enough to incite panic, not as he is now. ]

Are you, uh. Are you going to go take a look?

[paraselenes]

[ His gaze flicks upwards towards the trees as she speaks. The harpies from earlier are likely still lurking about; he wonders if they'll turn against their own and consume the harpy he'd already struck. Or are they just waiting for bloodshed between the two of them?

He meets her glare with a level look of his own. ]

No.

[ He respects kindness—it's something to treasure, rare and frail as it can be. But that sort of softness is all the more reason that he should deal with these harpies. Better him than someone else. ]

I would ask that you step aside.

[fallingsand]

You... you could have fooled me with those! Those scissors!

[ Bruno calls back as he shoves his way past more corn stalks and straight into another spot in the maze. There, he pauses, rapidly looking one way, then the other. Which way, which way, which way, he'll go left! He turns that way, rushing down the new portion of the maze rather than going through the corn again this time.

He won't call out again, lest he gives up where he's gone, although there's nothing he can do to hide the sound of him running over the dry corn stalks and hay that litter the ground of the maze's many paths. ]

[windsongs]

[ As soon as they shake hands, Hibiki's smile turns into a full grin. ]

You give me way too much credit. I might have something in mind, but I need to figure out a lot more about this place before I commit to anything. But I'll make sure you're in on the planning if you wanna be. Two heads are better than one!

[windsongs]

[ She blinks a few times as he suddenly pets her head. Even under the influence, that still manages to surprise her. ]

Hey, don't mention it, I had fun too, you know! Just wait until I can figure out the whole flying thing, then we'll really have a blast!

[windsongs]

[ H̵e̸'̴s̵ ̴r̶i̵g̵h̷t̶,̸ ̸y̶o̵u̵ ̶k̵n̸o̷w̸.̶ ̷B̴u̷t̴ ̸y̶o̷u̶ ̸d̶o̵n̶'̴t̵ ̵n̵e̷e̴d̸ ̷e̸i̵t̵h̷e̶r̷ ̷o̵f̸ ̸u̴s̸ ̵t̵o̸ ̸t̶e̴l̸l̶ ̶y̶o̷u̸ ̷t̷h̵a̶t̶,̶ ̶d̷o̷ ̸y̴o̸u̴?̶

Of course that would come out when she's physically and mentally exhausted. She knows there's nothing that she can do about the inevitable. The only reason she doesn't immediately fight back is out of fatigue. It's hard looking on the bright side when she can't even come at this with a clear head.

Closing the distance between them, frustration clear from her expression, she heaves a sigh. ]

...Let's go, then.

[ She hates this so much. ]

[windsongs]

Yeah. I'd say they're 'only human,' but I'm not even sure if human's the majority here. But I think you know what I mean. I really do want to believe they do what they do to protect those of us here.

[ Is it Fuck the Police time? Because it sure feels like it is.

Hibiki hesitates briefly, if only because she doesn't fully disagree, yet has still managed to function within that clear set of "rules". It hasn't bit her in the ass yet, so she can only hope that it won't in the future. ]

I take it you don't have one yet, then?

[prozaic]

I'm willing to help carry as well. [shalem looks up in the middle of wrapping the cloth around the body, taking great pains not to handle the head too much. he may seem squeamish with his actions, but he's just trying not to give into the temptation of taking the head for himself.]

In essence, what you'd be transporting are pieces of a whole, wrangling parts with just two arms could be difficult.

Let's wrap her up first, all right?

[windsongs]

[ Why shouldn't she be? If they really are dead, there's no use hiding something like that, even if wounds of that degree never truly heal. But there might be a not-so-small part of her that feels some relief at being able to talk about it in some capacity instead of either tiptoeing around or avoiding it altogether. Hibiki stops as he turns to stare at her.

It feels a little weird to be put on the spot like that, to have someone compliment her for something that feels only natural for her. But she's convinced the reason why her mother was killed was in some way her fault, so she has to search. She has to know. ]

Hey, it's okay. I'm okay, so you don't need to apologize. We can't change the past, even if some of us really, really want to. Besides--

[ And this is important, Jonas. Her gaze focused on his, the corner of her lips curl slightly in a complex smirk. ]

People are brave because they've gotta be, because in their mind, they've got no other choice. You never know what you're capable of until you're put in that kind of situation, but when you are, you figure it out fast.

[windsongs]

[ She can deal with them just fine, thanks. In case he hasn't noticed, there don't seem to be any other predators skulking around these woods, so if these harpies are anything like other opportunistic scavengers, they don't pose an immediate threat.

But Hibiki isn't naive enough to not realize that the monsters will probably turn on each other soon. Given how aggressive this guy is, their situation will only get exponentially worse if left to his own devices. Clenching a fist at her side, her gaze falls to the thrashing beast behind her. ]

...Only if you can guarantee me that they won't suffer.

[ Not any more than the harpy already is. ]

[windsongs]

[ It's still a theory, one of many that is swirling around in her head. The fact that so many of them don't quite remember dying--or their last memory doesn't feel like their last--makes her question a lot of things.

Hibiki shrugs a bit, not willing to commit to anything yet. ]

I've learned to never trust coincidences without evidence to back them up. But that might just be paranoia talking.

[paraselenes]

[ This incredibly obvious deflection. It really would ping pong back and forth into the world's most meaningless conversation, but Dimitri is willing to relent on little things like this.

Besides, sometimes you just have to open up first. ]

I don't generally enjoy being thrust into the midst of such things, no. I've other things to do with my time.

[ Even if he's Okay with festivities, he doesn't like participating. ]

My presence tends to make things a bit awkward anyway.

[damnpire]

[Dimitri is doing the opening up… Well, it works. Mostly because D has eaten one of the God forsaken nuts.

Truly not a fan.]

So does mine.

[At least, on the Frontier it did. Here… there are enough weird hoodlums that he actually doesn’t stand out quite so much. Or maybe he does, and people simply do not give a shit.

But he hasn’t forgotten how much he always felt like an outsider back home.]

Others can enjoy it. I don’t need to be involved.

[terraria]

( a quiet and surprised noise leaves aspen as dimitri takes the lead. now, he's the one hiding behind a big strong shield. he finds heat rising to his face even as he lets out a small puff of laughter.

well, he didn't feel at home before, but this is certainly something he's used to. ... some of the memory is painful; his laugh dies down quickly, just in time for his attention to be diverted. )

A fae? Here?

( he recognizes that demeanor, his aura. )

That does explain the faerie circle I saw. Do you know how to speak to them?

[paraselenes]

[ He wouldn't usually get so close to someone, much less an acquaintance, but he's eaten enough Weird Stuff today that it's only after a moment of hesitation that he huddles under the cape too with a quick thank you. The fabric's at a slightly comical pitch with their height difference, but it works.

And despite the oddness... it's nice. The children scuttle over at them, and Dimitri greets them with a small smile, even if he lets Zagreus handle the talking. They seem happy despite the circumstances, mischievous as children anywhere are wont to be.

It's almost normal. He doesn't rush to eat this new treat they've been gifted, though he holds it care as he answers. ]

Yes, even at my age I struggle with this entire "life after death" business. It's hard not to feel listless—all the purpose that life gave me... I admit I'm at something of a loss without it.

[ He suddenly has an absolute glut of time on his hands, and nothing to fill it with anymore. Sometimes you arrive in the afterlife without many hobbies and it's all one weird long existential crisis. ]

Frankly, I didn't have much opportunity for leisure. I would go out for a ride if time allowed, but it rarely did. What of you? You must have done something to entertain yourself, despite where you were.

[nagano]

You think so? I don't actually have to do the whole "tear the portal out of the ground" thing. I was just trying something different.

[ Kaito raps his knuckles against one of the gate's posts. His hand nearly sinks in. It is water, after all. ]

This construction's kinda weird, too. My portals usually aren't so... structured. Admittedly, it's my first time trying that out since arriving here.

Well, whatever. Let's get the hell out of dodge. After you.

[windsongs]

[ Her attention momentarily pulls away from the gate to look at Kaito with quiet awe. Wait a minute. ]

...That was you just winging it? Didn't you say you were pretty much tapped out?

[ It was clear that he was good after the fight with the wyvern, but summoning a portal like this as if it's nothing is on a whole other level. ]

Yeah, you're definitely showing me how to do a few things. I gotta be able to keep up.

[ L̶i̷k̸e̴ ̵y̸o̸u̴ ̶e̵v̶e̶r̸ ̶c̸o̷u̵l̵d̵.̷ ̷H̸a̶v̷e̶ ̵f̵u̵n̸ ̶w̴a̸s̶t̶i̴n̶g̷ ̴h̴i̴s̵ ̶t̸i̶m̸e̴.̷

It's a little easier for her to ignore that voice, but not by much. Especially when it tells her something she already knows is true. But instead of trying to acknowledge that, Hibiki walks up to the portal, puts her hand in before walking through. ]

[nagano]

[ Snickering, Kaito waits until she's through before crossing over himself.

The other side of the portal is just an oval-esque gateway wrought from water. True to his word, there's no rhyme or reason behind its shape. There definitely isn't any structure. It closes behind him. ]

I wouldn't say I was winging it... More like improvising on something I already know how to do.

[ His smile is tired but genuine. ] And I haven't forgotten my promise. I'll do my best so you can have agency over your own skills. If tonight was any indication, your prospects are good. Maybe even better than mine.

[ Y̶e̵a̵h̵,̶ ̶b̷u̶t̸t̴e̷r̷ ̶h̷e̸r̶ ̷u̸p̷.̷ ̵I̸t̸'̴l̵l̸ ̶m̵a̷k̴e̴ ̸f̴o̶r̴ ̶a̶ ̵g̸r̷e̸a̵t̸ ̵e̶x̵c̷u̵s̸e̸ ̷t̵o̸ ̵f̵a̷l̷l̷ ̵b̵a̷c̴k̷ ̴o̴n̶ ̴w̶h̶e̴n̵ ̸y̸o̷u̵ ̸f̸a̵i̶l̴ ̵t̵o̵ ̴b̴r̸i̵n̷g̸ ̸a̸n̴y̵t̸h̷i̶n̸g̴ ̶o̶u̸t̵ ̶o̶f̶ ̷h̶e̴r̷.̴ ̷Y̴o̵u̶ ̸d̵o̶n̵'̷t̵ ̵e̵v̶e̷n̵ ̸k̴n̸o̶w̶ ̸y̶o̵u̵r̴ ̸o̶w̸n̷ ̵m̴a̵g̷i̶c̶.̷ ]

Now... Which way to your Shroud?

[windsongs]

[ As soon as she is through the portal, Hibiki steps out of the way before turning to watch. He's right, it does look completely different. Interesting. Is it because the portals he makes are all one-sided?

Mentioning the promise pulls a small, quiet smile out of her. So he didn't forget, and he is still going to try. Even the compliment seems to hit her harder than usual, a bit of an embarrassed flush clinging to her cheeks. ]

Honestly? I think I was just lucky. Sure, I've tried a few things, but nothing quite like that.

[ Gesturing with her head for him to follow Hibiki takes a second to do some wayfinding before making her way toward her door. ]

But seriously, don't sweat it if I'm not able to do much. I kind of expect it to be honest. But I appreciate the want to help me learn.

[nagano]

Luck or not, progress has to start somewhere.

[ Lanky strides bring him to her side in a few paces. ]

You say not to sweat it, but I'm already sweating figurative bullets. How do you teach someone to tap into their own magic? Do you know how many schools of spellcraft exist in my Earth alone? What about yours?

It's a daunting thought... but I'll throw my gloves away if I can't get you to at least replicate that sick high jump.

[ That's apparently worse than being damned, to him. ]

[dodgeouttahell]

[Zag almost does a double-take, uses the new proximity to peer at Dimitri more closely. He doesn't seem that old, but he had told him about how harsh winters were where he was from. Perhaps Dimitri was at an age where he was already expected to come to terms with his own mortality.

Death, however, seems to approach everyone in the same manner. He had been told that younger shades had been entering Hades when Demeter's bitter cold flooded the surface, noticed them milling about the halls in the House, also struck by promise and potential that would never be fulfilled. He nods. He hadn't thought he'd relate so soon, but now here he was, equally empty-handed.] Was there much for you to do back home?

Do you mean a horse ride? I've never ridden a horse; it does sound fun. [Eating voraciously at the cake he was offered, he takes his time to chew and swallow, careful not to speak with his mouth full. There is no escape from crumbs on one's face, however, no matter how princely a person is.] I learned how to play the lyre, if anything because a friend of mine told me I should. But I'm like you in that regard. I didn't have much time, either, between trying to escape my Father's realm and the paperwork he wanted me to do. [He sighs, looks at the distance, at where the parade goes around a corner, and it seems to disappear from existence just from being out of sight alone.] Do you know the feeling of not wanting to sit down because you know that if you do, you will not want to get up again? I feel like I was stuck there.

[windsongs]

I don't know, I've never thought to ask.

[ That's not the type of response she expects, as he very clearly voices his own insecurities, revealing yet another thing that she's sure he'll kick her ass if she ever tells anyone. Her expression smooths as warmth touches her features. Looking over at him, Hibiki shrugs her shoulders a bit. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean to put all that pressure on you. But I trust you; we'll figure it out together. And hey, no throwing those away, or you'll be getting an even nicer pair from the glove fairy.

[ It's her, she's the glove fairy.

Turning a nonexistent corner, Hibiki breezes by a few doors before stopping in front of hers. Staring at it briefly, she begins to wonder whether she should just invite him in for a bit. It's been a long... well, night isn't necessarily accurate, but it's close enough. But it might be okay--

A̸r̴e̸ ̸y̴o̸u̶ ̴n̴u̵t̸s̷?̶!̷ ̵W̸h̷a̴t̵ ̶h̸a̶p̴p̸e̴n̷s̵ ̶w̸h̸e̷n̵ ̴h̶e̴ ̶w̴a̷l̸k̷s̸ ̸i̷n̷ ̴t̴h̴e̵r̶e̵ ̴a̷n̵d̷ ̷s̶e̵e̵s̸ ̶t̵h̵o̷s̶e̸ ̶t̶h̷i̵n̸g̶s̴?̴ ̴Y̸o̸u̷ ̵t̸h̴i̵n̴k̸ ̷h̸e̶'̶s̸ ̸g̸o̶n̵n̶a̴ ̷j̶u̷s̷t̷ ̵a̵d̴m̴i̵r̷e̴ ̴t̷h̸e̶m̵ ̴a̴t̴ ̸a̵ ̴r̵e̶a̸s̴o̸n̶a̸b̴l̵e̸ ̶d̷i̸s̶t̴a̷n̸c̷e̸?̶ ̷G̵o̶d̴,̴ ̵y̷o̸u̶'̷r̴e̴ ̷l̴u̸c̸k̵y̶ ̵y̶o̶u̶ ̵h̷a̷v̴e̸ ̵s̴o̵m̸e̵o̶n̸e̷ ̶l̴i̴k̵e̸ ̶m̷e̸ ̴i̸n̴ ̵h̸e̷r̷e̶,̵ ̸y̷o̴u̴'̵r̴e̸ ̷w̶a̷y̶ ̸t̶o̵o̷ ̴t̷r̵u̵s̷t̵i̴n̶g̷!̶ ̸S̸e̷r̶i̸o̶u̸s̸l̴y̷!̴

With a brief exhale, she looks over at Kaito. ]

Well, here's my stop.

[redsoil]

[ As D brings Set's body to rest so near to his own, he wonders if the dhampir can feel the creeping revulsion within himself -- the sharp need to not be touched, to not feel contact -- or, if such a sensation is only true within Set's mind and soul. If he feels D's hunger, as well as the way emotions around him brush so intimately into the crevasses of D's body, then perhaps he does. It's quiet enough, in this place where the greenery wraps around them like a shield, to contemplate such things. He'd like to avoid introspection, but finds it impossible, when confronted with the foreign feeling of D's body wrapped around his spirit. It's so intimate, in ways he doesn't want to consider. ] I didn't know you were in this much pain. [ With D's own hand, he presses his palm to the space where he'd think to find the dhampir's heart. Lets it slide lower, to the place where his ribs would curve in to meet his sternum, and cradles the dark hunger he feels there. D is hungry. He may be starving, in this place where he does not have the means to balance his needs with his morals. He does not drink human blood. What a kind creature D is. Set thinks of his so-called followers, who slaughtered a woman in the name of feeding her flesh and blood to a violent god they adored for his monstrosity. He swallows, with D's throat, and looks to the hunter in his own body. Really looks at himself, the pale wash of his own skin, the red fall of his hair. It's a sturdy, perfect body, even diminished to the status of demigod as it is -- for no matter what power the Ennead would take from him, he was a god. His ability was that of a demigod, but the body itself had ascended alongside his mind, centuries ago. ] D. [ The offer is already there, in but the naming of the other. Still, Set presses on: ] I am not a human.

[redsoil]

[ It has to be enough. The fumbling of this human, it must be enough to bridge the gap between them; Set will push himself until he collapses, rather than concede. He has, and he will always. Inelegantly, he reaches for another crumpled hay bale, this time hefting it over his head as he sprints in Bruno's wake. Just before he spots the man deviate from the bath, he flings it - a pale missile aimed to cut off any attempt for Bruno to dart in one direction.

It's a harrying tactic, utilized by hunters who normally come with hounds ( -- with the sha beasts, that Set would loose upon hares and hippos alike ), to cut off a route and force their prey into a path where they could be more easily controlled and corralled. ]

Why did you -- run!

[ This time, when he snarls, it's accompanied with the swipe of claws; Set reaching for any scrap of clothing he might be able to snag at in order to arrest Bruno's movement. ]

We were going to win!!

[fallingsand]

[ It's a wise gamble to take. Bruno is quick but not as quick as a hay bale launched at high speeds through the air. It crashes down in an explosion of dry yellow grass and cuts him off before he reaches the relative safety of the corn stalks. He lets out an incoherent sound of surprise and tries to back peddle, to change course and reroute to carry on avoiding Set, but it'll be for naught.

Just as he makes the turn to keep running, claws snag the very edge of that voluminous green ruana he wears and pulls him up short. He's yanked back and it's enough to force him to stumble, lose his footing, and end up on the ground all over again.

That, of course, doesn't mean he won't put up a struggle. ]

Win?! Win what?! There isn't even a prize!