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

E - Kaito ver.

[nagano]

[ Weirdest fuckin' Akaname I've ever run into.

That's a joke. Half-joke. Three-quarters joke? Look, this girl's tongue would be unsettling if he wasn't so desensitized to the macabre and grotesque. By comparison, this girl just looks like a gremlin.

Regardless of Kaito's (rather judgmental and maybe even kinda rude???) initial impressions, he's opted to hang around with her for the time being. Two heads are better than one, and while the aura bleeding from her psyche tells him otherwise, his usual overprotective tendencies are overriding his desire to continue searching for the lantern alone.

It pays off, since the pair of them come across a rather familiar fairy from both folklore and a personal experience. He's a Puck, he's got the lantern, and—

—is that a hint of desire bleeding into the girl's aura??? And what's that murderous intent?!?

By the time his incredulity processes, the thud of metal embedding itself into wood has replaced the Puck's visage. ]

Oh, goddammit.

[ Azure light bursts into view around Kaito, evicting his irises of their usual gold shade. A swipe of his right arm conjures threads of water that create a mesh net aimed right for Syo's back. He has every intent of wrapping her up before she actually manages to murder the fairy. ]

The hell are you doing?! We don't have to kill him to get the lantern!

[janescayre]

[By now, she's cottoned on to there being some exceptional sorts among the Restless. Not that she's gotten bombarded with psychics-defying demonstrations, but enough that when she hears the guy (Faito? she can't remember) shout and there's a disco glow bopping around his head, she's more annoyed than blown away.

Bad enough that Puck is playing whack-a-mole in thin air, now she's gotta dodge this asshole.]

Who said anything about "have"! [She vaults left, away from the shimmer and towards her prey, swing the blades and just barely nicking the the cheek.] What about, I want to kill him, huh? Huh huh huh?

[nagano]

[ Kami, she's quick—but not impossibly so. He can adjust the velocity of his next spell. However, it's her retort that leaves him frustrated.

What a pain in the ass. He doesn't even have time to psychoanalyze her, not when she's already drawn blood from the fae.

W̷h̸a̵t̶ ̸i̴s̴ ̸t̶h̵e̷r̷e̶ ̸t̵o̷ ̴a̵n̴a̶l̴y̴z̸e̷?̸ ̸S̷h̷e̵'̸s̸ ̷j̸u̵s̴t̷ ̴p̶s̴y̶c̵h̸o̸,̵ ̷h̴a̷h̶a̸h̷a̶!̸!̴!̵

Ugh. ]

We need his lantern, that's what! You trying to snip his neck is making our job harder!

[ A hand-sized orb of water spawns in front of Kaito's face. He snatches it, reels back, and blurts out: ]

So take a chill pill!!

[ His arm snaps forward as if all its muscles had been coiled tighter than wound springs. The orb hurtles toward Syo at blistering speeds, easily tripling that of the net from earlier.

If it impacts, it won't be painful... per se. On contact with any surface, the ball will explode, splatter and stick—like a very restrictive slime. Ew.

At least it smells nice? ]

[janescayre]

[Puck is looking rather queasy the next time he poofs in and out of existence, patting at his oozing cheek in surprise. Isn't that delicious? The shock of mortality hitting the divine. It makes her love him all the more.]

You can have the lantern once he's dead, idiot! [She's after her new paramour once more, still spouting off as she swings and cackles and Puck does his damnedest to dodge.] Can't play keep away once you're six feet under, can you cutie?

[The next teleportation takes Puck further away, makes Syo turn her back to her nagging tagalong. That's where it all goes wrong.

The warning shout gives her time enough to glance over the shoulder. Not time enough to escape. The glob hits her back.

Then the splatter sticks. Not just to her, but plasters her arms to her ribs, her hair to her spine. Syo skitters back, dumbfounded.]

What?! [She wriggles, lip curling, fury rising, even as she gives a deceptive giggle.] What's all this? Have I been squirted on by a man I just met? Oh, the shame!

[nagano]

[ Get splatted. You're a kid, you're a squid—

Once he's confirmed that his little slimeball (please don't call it that) has thoroughly creeped its way (that's even worse imagery) onto and around the girl, Kaito starts a leisurely stroll her way. Footsteps carry him across the gap, stopping about three yards outside of swiping range.

His irritation seems to have given way to something more collected, though he's wary that she might break out of his binding sooner than he'd like to. We'll see. That much Nagoopno Slime (STOP) is enough to keep an oni in check for a few minutes. ]

I'd have taken you out for dinner, but you immediately started looking at someone else. Honestly, I'm offended. This is our first date. [ His tone is rather flat, but he'd be lying if he didn't feel at least a hint of amusement to counter her veiled ire while playing along with the dialogue. ]

Some people like the humiliation, anyway. You can never judge a book by its cover. —Except I can tell pretty clearly that you'd get off to killing that fairy if I wasn't watching. Maybe even if I was. He might be a dick for stealing the lantern, but I'm not about to watch you bleed him out just because it's your kink.

'Sides, it'll be even worse if we get in trouble for slaying a spirit, and I will not be going on the Hierarchy's shit list just yet. Do you want to be on their shit list? Do you think you've got the resources to survive if those assholes try to hunt you down?

[janescayre]

[Eugh, is that a leisurely stroll? Good grief. If only she'd eaten some greasy dinner before heading out. She could have vomited it all over him.]

Oh, believe me, if this were a date? You'd fucking know it.

[Fat chance of that. He's nowhere close to getting her heated up.

Her eyes narrow as he continues soliloquizing. A regular Poirot he is. Maybe a stretched out Detective Conan. The case is already solved, she's just being laid out for rash behaviour and being a freak. There's an appreciable lack of doe-eyed shock and horror, though she's not sure the smug send-up is much better.

W͇͕͉h͔̙̫a̻̟̪t̝͙͖'̡͎̻s͕̞ t͉͍̟h̠̪͉e͖̞͖ H̝̻̫i̢̡̪e͔̞̠r͇̞a͎̞̪r̦͍c͖͜͜h͎̙̫y̟̼͇ t͚͚̘o̟͉͜ y̟͎͜o̫̠̫u͉͙͓?͙͓̪ whispers that silky voice. I̡͙͜t̢̼'̦͎̘s͎̙̟ a̫͇l̡͔͙l̢͉̞ t̡͍͍h̡͉͜e̫̼͕ s̫̟̘a̼͉͜m̠̼̺e̘̫̺ l̫̝̙a̦̺̝m̞͚͜e̙̼ e͔͍x͇͍͓c̢̪̘u͔̝̞s̟͕̘e̼̻͍s̙̻̺ e͎̝̦v͍͓̺e̫̼̟r̞͖͜y͉͙̞o͓̙n̫͉͇e͉͔͎ e͕͖͚l̟̟̞s̞̼͓e͔̝͕ u̺̦s͍̺e͙͙̘s̢͔̠.̡̻͕ W̪̪h̢̘͜o̦̘͉ n̟̟̝e͍͔̘e͔͍͜d̪͓͔s̻̼̝ a̡͚̝u̡̞͖t͖͍h͍̝̝o̪͉̪r̢͉͜i͉͚t͖̠̻y̙͔͉?̫͚̟ Y̫̻͜o̞̝̺u̟̻̟'̪̦̪r͉̼̘e̡͉͕ a̘̝l͕͔͓r͙͖̞e͉͖̦a͖̫̞d̙͓̫y̞͜ d̻̝͕e̞͉̺a̡̢͙d̝̫͔,͙̙̟ w̡͙͇h̙͚̪y͙͕̪ p͍̠̙l̞͓̘a͖͎̝y͓̝̻ n̞̝̻i͙̼͎c̻͖e̠͉͕ w̫̠̼h̟̘͖e̪͍̠n̘͚͎ y̢̘̠o͔̟͔u̪͙̻ c̡̦͍o̡̟͚u͓̼l͚͔d͖̪͕ p̞͕͔l͓̻a͇͔̺y̫̦͉ h̫͙̦a͚͙͓r̘͉͔d̢͙͙?̟͚̼]

Shut the hell up! [Syo snaps. Her body jerks. The goop doesn't give, but it stretches, further than before.] What's the damn point, huh? Where did playing nice land us? Look around you!

As above, so below! There's no reward for being good, no punishment for being bad. It's all the same old, same old, work for your dollar, get paid a dime! Starvation! Slave labour! Mortality, undoing, the agony of death! What's the difference between hell and Earth? Ding-ding-ding, nothing! Turns out it's not an end to life, it's just the crappy sequel!

And sooooooo? Why shouldn't I do what I want? Why shouldn't you? If the Heir-malarky kills us, so what? There's probably hell three, four, and five waiting for us! It's just going on and on and on! I'm dead sick of this same old shit.

[nagano]

[ S̸h̷e̶ ̶h̶a̵s̵ ̶a̸ ̸p̸o̸i̷n̸t̷.̷ ]

...Tch.

[ Yeah, maybe she does. It's not like Kaito hasn't entertained the idea himself. He has. The reality of this unlife isn't lost on him, and from the start he rolled with the news of his death as if it was just another day at the restaurant. But nothing's the same. He's gone. Everything he's worked for, upended. Everyone he cares about, mourning his passing.

S̴o̸?̶ ̸W̴h̸y̵ ̸s̶h̸o̷u̸l̸d̷ ̵y̷o̸u̸ ̴c̸a̸r̶e̴,̴ ̷t̸h̴e̶n̸?̶

Ever-condescending, his Shadow. He feigns level-headedness like the real deal would, yet Kaito knows he's just chomping at the bit for him to embrace the intrusive thoughts bearing down on his conscious every waking moment of his unlife. Let go, let loose. Throw all those inhibitions away, and put number one where he belongs: first.

It's tempting. Just not tempting enough.

Having settled on his thoughts, Kaito narrows his gaze at the bound Syo before him—and promptly creates another slimeball to yeet at her stomach. The impact isn't particularly painful (nor painless, mind), but when it explodes, the volume of gak nearly triples. ]

If you're so miserable over our predicament that you'd just give up entirely and follow your base instincts, then you can do it on your own, away from my sight. [ His words are cold—moreso than the goop clinging to her skin. Contempt bleeds from his glare. ]

As for me? I'm not gonna rot away in this literal hellhole. I'm going to find a way to get out of here. To that end, I'm not looking to put myself any further behind the eight ball than I already am. If you really don't give a shit about anything, then that's your prerogative.

But do you really have nothing that you wanna return to, huh?

[ A beat passes, and the images of Kaito's mother and brother sitting idly in the depths of his Shroud fill his vision momentarily.

His gaze sharpens further. A scowl takes over his features. ]

I highly doubt it.

[janescayre]

EUGH! [She takes the hit with a snarl and jerk of the arms, but the trap is sprung. Jeepers creepers, and she'd thought the Monokumas were annoying.] STOP CREAMING ALL OVER ME!

[It's just insult on top of injury.

The disdain hits harder, though. The final words. It's true, she could spend whatever's left of this existence living like Caligula. Hedonistic, blood-thirsty, removed of all consequences. And what is that worth?

Little changes outwardly. She's still a simmering pot, all livid glares and crooked fingers, ready to rend flesh if anyone dared step within reach. That's always the way — she can feel as giddy as she acts, as furious, but the closer she comes to contemplation the further her mind and body stray.

It hurts. That's the thing, it's a slow-burn sting that hasn't stopped since she woke up, insect venom left to fester long after the bite. Puck is handsome. So are the other boys, but any blood that may slick her palms can't compare to slim-boned fingers winding through her own.

If you're hurting, you can tell me. What right did Komaru have, speaking to her with such soft intentions? I'm an unreliable, normal girl who can't do anything... How stupid did you have to be to put your trust in a maniac? To take her hands in your own and plead not for mercy, but just to fucking talk? I can at least do normal things, right? And it's normal, for a friend to help a friend.

Syo does straighten then. Her lip has curled back, giving a sneer that belongs in a headline news mugshot.]

Fine. You want to follow your eight ball? Go ahead. Knock it in the pocket.

[Fuck this sexy demi-god bastard anyway. As if he'd measure up next to Byakuya-sama. Even divinity can't stack up to natural perfection.

She'd back off and drop her weapons if she wasn't sure she'd topple. He really let her have it with this goop shit. As it stands she scoffs, averting her gaze the other way.]

I wouldn't count on salvation if I were you, but hey! There's wilder pipe dreams to chase. Imagine blowing your life savings looking for Atlantis! Or Bigfoot! So embarrassing, the idea just gives me shivers!

[Good luck pal. If he succeeds on giving the Reaper the slip, then maybe there's hope for the rest of them too.]

[nagano]

[ For a moment, Kaito wonders if he's actually struck a chord with her. Fingers drum quietly at his sides, and he contemplates preparing yet another round of Gak Nagoopno.

Yet a wave of emotions sweep over her aura, and while his posture doesn't shift, Kaito inwardly sighs his relief. He doesn't have to be the catalyst to get her to change her mind—he just needed to provoke a memory of someone or something that could.

Her sneer (which, admittedly, is kinda cool) is met with a level smile. A swipe of the empath's hands pulls away the slime binding Syo. Although it feels about as pleasant as goop being peeled off skin and fabric, at least it isn't painful. Once the mass is a head-sized sphere floating above his palm, his eyes fade to their natural gold and the water dissolves. ]

Thank you.

[ A beat. A very quick beat. ]

Anyway, neither are as incredible as the rumors put them up to be. That's just how rumors are, yeah? [ Arms fold over his chest. ]

Now, should we try and get that lantern the proper way? ...Did that fae even stick around while we were bickering?

[janescayre]

[He's altogether too calm and collected for her tastes. On a face like Byakuya-sama's such smug airs would send shivers down her spine, but on a stranger who bested her? It's irksome, to say the least.

That gets her shadow whispering again, but Syo refuses to pay it any more mind. She doesn't like being manipulated either. Of the two pains in her ass tonight, the shadow is the worse offender by far. To think, she nearly broke her vows of loyalty! And for a whole lot of nothing to boot.

There's some gratitude, brief as a gnat's life, and then back to familiar comforts of quipping. Good. She's never been one for sentimentalism.]

Hmmmm...well a good rumour just helps the news spread faster. People need something punchy to pay attention, otherwise they'll change the channel! [Skipping metaphors again. No matter, it's not like either one of them gives a shit about Bigfoot. Though the way this guy was talking about it kinda implied he knocked elbows with the big ape himself.

And speaking of mythical apparitions...]

Wait. Did he?

[Syo whips around. Then back the other way. The campfire is waning, but their capricious pal is silhouetted on the furthest edge of its light. He raises the lantern.

Last chance, he seems to imply, waving it back and forth.]

Seriously? [Syo calls after him. Her ire is rising again.] Just fucking hand it over!

[nagano]

[ Kaito turns when she does. He caught a hint of the fey's aura just moments after talking about him. A flare of irritation to his side prompts one gloved hand to point. ]

Oh, look at that. He's been waiting real patient-like for us.

Fae love their games. If we want the lantern, we'll have to play along. Be prepared for a lot more annoying bullshit than the slime.

[ Nod, nod. With that, Kaito strolls off towards the campfire. Just another day in the office. ]

[janescayre]

Really? Because you made yourself a real pain in my ass just now.

[Hard to top getting Nickelodeon slimed.

Syo trails after him in manners decidedly more irate. Imagine, having to make nice with the guy you were just trying to slice and dice. Puck looks properly pleased about squeaking out scot-free, too, flashing her a pearly white grin as she draws near.

Can't she just take like, an ear? Maybe his dick. He doesn't deserve to piss standing up.]

So what the hell do you want, asshole? [She cocks her hip, stubborn as a mule but willing to bargain. If she doesn't like the price she's outta here. She only came poking around because she's bored, and wacky people-killing trees sounded like a hell of a ride.

"I won't keep you long. All I want from you is an answer:
I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?"

Syo's stare turns flat.]

Really?

[Isn't that the Sphinx's schtick?]

[nagano]

Aw, don't look at it like that. How are we gonna start developing our begrudging friendship if you think I gooped you maliciously?

[ One has to wonder if Kaito would be this mouthy if he knew about Syo's reputation.

...The answer to that is probably still yes. If nothing else, he's not gonna take her irritation towards him personally. So long as he can dodge being the target of her murderous intent, everything will be fiiiiiiine.

Alas, his bantering mood falls flat when they settle in by the campfire. He's been expecting the worst from Puck—one doesn't simply slight a fae and get away with it. Though... it seems that perhaps this particular one isn't feeling so spiteful. Yet.

Then comes the riddle, and Kaito amends his analysis a touch. ]

I doubt he's pulling our legs. The divine love their riddles. Pantheon doesn't matter.

[ A beat. ] I think I have an answer. How about you?

[janescayre]

[She gives him such a look. Friendship? Is he kidding?

He better be kidding. If only this mystical moron were also cracking jokes.]

I'd rather riddle him with gaping wounds. [Syo grumbles, arms folded to punctuate that seething glower she's beaming at their adversary.] I sure as hell don't. All this myth and pith shit is Gloomy's department. I'm an action girl, not a literary loser.

[She juts her chin at the man.]

Go ahead, Slimer! Lay it on him.

[nagano]

[ The look he immediately flashes her in return can only be described as inflammatory. Does he want to be her friend or piss her off?

Probably both. Just a bit of both. ]

Who's Gloomy? Your pal? Your Shadow? [ There's no expectation from her to actually answer him. When she gives the proverbial 'Tell him, Naegi Nagano' signal, a gloved hand lifts high before pointing directly at the fae, all Objection™-like. ]

Your word is 'sparsely,' and if there's any good parsley in this hellhole then I will be a very happy camper.

[janescayre]

[It's best there's no expectation, because he ain't getting no answers. As far as Syo's concerned the evening has been completely spoiled. It's late, she's bummed out, and she wants to go home. A pop quiz and no murders, what a fucking rip off.

Puck claps once the answer is given, pleased as punch. "What a treat, you're much smarter than you look! Congratulations."

He tosses the lantern at the other man and gives Syo a filthy wink. "Better luck next time, my dear."

And in the blink of an eye, he vanishes. Syo gives a sharp huff.]

Looks like you're shit out of luck on that parsley.

[nagano]

[ Kaito catches the lantern in both hands, giving it a brief inespection while Puck makes his getaway. ]

I suppose I am, but this is a better reward for the trouble. At least, for me.

[ A brief sigh precedes his smile, and he holds the item out towards Syo. ]

I can't really say that I'm sorry for getting in your way, but I will apologize for the slime. At least it comes off cleanly. Here. You can have this, and the credit. I don't really care about whatever rewards might be waiting back in Serene.

[janescayre]

Wow! For me? [She grasps at her cheeks, playing the flattered ingenue to the tee.] Oh, you shouldn't have!

[Really, he shouldn't. She doesn't even take it right away. Lets her hand hover over the top for a moment too long, as if she might slap it aside, watch it smash to smithereens.

The thought is tempting, if only to raise hell. And yet she only lifts it away with the daintiest pluck, as if pulling up a daisy.]

What makes you think I give a shit about credit? [Syo shrugs, grinning broadly.] I came out here 'cause I was bored. How very kind of you though! Nobody dares show such generosity to degenerates like me.

So then: what are you getting out of it?

[nagano]

Yeah, I probably shouldn't have. I imagine you're thinking about breaking it out of spite, or something.

[ She winds up taking the lantern instead of knocking it down while he speaks. That's a not-so-small relief. He legitimately wasn't sure if she'd undo all the work he did to keep her from murdering the fae. ]

What am I getting out of this?

Nothing material, that's for sure... A bit of relief that we didn't break the thing—so far—but otherwise, nothing. I don't imagine you're very happy with me, so it's not like I'm actually winning friend points here.

B̷l̸e̸e̷d̵i̵n̸g̴ ̶h̴e̸a̸r̵t̶s̷ ̷a̷r̶e̵ ̶t̴h̵e̷ ̶w̷o̶r̶s̶t̴,̴ ̸d̶o̶n̸'̸t̷ ̴y̶o̵u̴ ̸t̸h̸i̶n̸k̴?̴

[ 'Oi. You shut the fuck up in there.' ]

In any case... That's too bad. The fact that you presumably don't get a lot of decency from folks. Maybe you earned that and I'm just giving you too much credit, but I've given the benefit of the doubt to demons and some of them have turned out to be alright.

good to end here?

[janescayre]

Shit, what are you? Some kinda mind reader?

[Spooky. Should she beam him some lovely fantasies of her White Knight as a treat? Something with spanking, and ropes! Lots of blood!

Anyway, he doesn't have much explanation for himself. But someone does. She tenses at the surprise switch. Her mind flits to her own condition, or possession. Then again, the simple explanation might be that his little shoulder devil has a lot more say than her own does.

So far. When's it her turn to start speaking in tongues, huh? What a nifty party trick!]

...Bleeding heart, for sure. [She snickers. There's something quite sweet about the sentiment. Of course she doesn't get the benefit of the doubt. She's a murderous fiend, not a misunderstood misfit. It's not a point that needs throwing back in his face though. Just an interesting annotation, something to file away for a later encounter. How far can she stretch that inch before she gets a mile?

All them wacky powers, too. He's an interesting fellow. Maybe he really did chum around with Bigfoot once.]

Oh well. There are worse things to be, surely. None of this will bite you in the ass later! One-hundo-percento!

[Syo winks. Kidding, only kidding! She'll run this lantern back to the townsfolk like a good little girl, pinky swear.

With that, she turns on her heel, humming a little ditty as she disappears into the darkness.]

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. ]