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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.

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I haven't exactly seen a dental office around, and even if there is there's no telling if any of them would have even gone.

（ he sighs, adding another long bone (femur, his mind supplies him absently) to the wrap of his kosode. ）

I guess just any jewellery, or notable healed injuries. Take pictures if you can.

（ at her question, he rummages around in his pack and tosses her a bottle in an easy underhand. he doesn't have inoue or ishida around to come prepared for everyone, so he's having to do it himself. ichigo isn't exactly good at putting his own wellbeing at the forefront of his mind, but it's easy to convince himself to carry food and water for others he might run into. ）

Right, good idea.

[ Still, there's so little that they can tell from just the bones alone. She can make some educated guesses when it comes to healed breaks, but she isn't a doctor. To be honest, she's pretty useless when it comes to this sort of thing, except in a very specific instance.

Catching the water bottle, Hibiki takes a few steps before crouching down toward a smaller grouping of bones. She can't even tell if they're from the same person, but she can assume that if they did, they were young. Heaving a heavy breath, she crouches down, unscrewing the top of the water bottle before setting it face-up on the ground. Let's see, it's about half full, so she'll need to ration it a bit... ]

...

[ Wordlessly, she pours a little bit of water into her palm before carefully cleaning one of the bones. It should be a family member doing this, but hopefully some well-meaning stranger will do.

You deserved so much better than this... ]

（ he watches her a moment. opens his mouth as if to speak, and then closes it again tiredly. it is wasteful, but what does it matter? the worst case scenario is they're a little thirsty, but unless they're out here for days it's not going to have much lasting impact.

he gathers the rest of the bones in silence, and then hauls them over to where she is, and sits down cross-legged beside her. he's all gawky angles and long limbs, body on the cusp of adulthood while the rest of him struggles to catch up like a wobbly-kneed fawn, but his hands are steady when he reaches for the bottle.

they clean them together, in wordless silence. and once they're finished — or as finished as that small amount of water will take them — he says, ）

Okay, now what? I wasn't really listening to what that guy said...

[ It's incredibly wasteful, she knows. But even if she herself wasn't given the proper training (B̶e̶c̷a̴u̵s̷e̷ ̷y̴o̵u̴'̶r̶e̷ ̵a̶ ̵m̴o̸n̶s̴t̶e̵r̸.̶), she knows that the family would usually wash the dead in preparation for a proper send off to the afterlife. She wasn't raised within the shrine itself, but some habits die hard.

The fact that he wordlessly slides in next to her and does the same takes her by surprise, as the small blonde quickly looks at him, eyes widening a bit. Her expression softens quickly as they work in silence, getting through most of the bones they have collected before running out of water.

Sighing quietly, she hears his question and falters. She knows what the next step is but--

J̵u̷s̸t̸ ̶d̸o̸ ̶i̸t̶ ̸y̶o̶u̵r̷s̶e̵l̸f̷.̷ ̶H̵e̵'̸d̸ ̸t̸e̴l̷l̴ ̶y̷o̷u̵ ̶t̵o̷ ̴a̷n̴y̶w̴a̶y̶.̵ ̶B̷e̷ ̴a̵ ̶g̸o̵o̴d̶ ̸p̶e̴r̶s̷o̸n̶ ̸f̵o̷r̵ ̸o̸n̵c̴e̷ ̸a̶n̶d̵ ̷g̷i̷v̴e̶ ̷h̴i̵m̵ ̵a̵n̵ ̷o̸u̵t̷.̵

Brows furrowed as she presses her lips together, taking a deep breath. ]

...This.

[ Wind gathering in her right hand, she slashes it across her forearm. Trying desperately to stifle a scream, she grits her teeth while bowing her head, letting out a pained groan as the wind-torn wound bleeds, staining the dirt red. ]

（ nani the fuck ）

（ what the actual triple decker double fuck are you — ）

（ ichigo just lunges across the pile of bones, knocking them askew with a silent apology as he clamps a hand down over her arm, fingers tightening until his knuckles are bloodless. blood seeps between his fingers, and with his other hand he's hastily tearing part of his shirt away, swapping his hands so he can stuff the makeshift blanket beneath his bloody palm. ）

What the hell are you doing?!

[ Shit that hurt a lot more than she thought it would. She trembles even after he clamps his hand down on her arm, practically doubling over as she forces herself to breathe. It's okay, she's okay, just focus. Focus, Hibiki. She doesn't look up at him, so it's hard to tell if she's frustrated, in a world of pain, or both. ]

What needs to be done to get us back.

[ It sounds more like a growl as she declares her intent through gritted teeth, her other hand gripping his wrist. Let go, this isn't enough. ]

What kind of a damn moron —

（ does he seem to give a shit that she's frustrated or in pain? not at the goddamn moment he doesn't! instead, he smacks her hand like he fully expects to be able to knock it away. shinigami strength isn't human strength, and he's absolutely confident in his ability to outclass a normal human girl (so he thinks) with some weird wind power. ）

— look, you're really close to the veins here, if you're not careful you're going to bleed out and I'm not going to explain to anybody why I'm dragging your stupid corpse out of this creepy death forest!

（ he misses orihime like a weight in that moment, his fingers shifting against her arm in a vain (vein?) attempt to stop the bloodflow. ）

Are you even sure he said that? What if you heard him wrong! What if he said a weird ass English word that just sounds like 'chi'?!

（ the informal, slangy variant — this is nowhere near enough a formal situation to warrant ketsueki. ）

[ Despite slicing her other arm open, her grip is strong, and while she doesn't try to grip him harder, she locks it in place. No. She won't budge. To add insult to injury, he starts lecturing her like she was in the wrong. She listened to the directions! She can handle this dammit, she's going to get them out one way or the other.

H̶e̸'̶s̶ ̴r̷e̷a̶l̷l̵y̸ ̷t̵e̶a̶r̷i̴n̸g̵ ̷y̵o̷u̴ ̴a̴ ̴n̵e̷w̸ ̸o̴n̸e̶.̴ ̶P̶r̸o̸b̸a̵b̶l̵y̸ ̶w̸o̵r̵r̶i̷e̵d̴ ̶y̴o̴u̴'̸r̸e̵ ̵g̸o̷n̸n̴a̶ ̴b̸l̴e̵e̷d̵ ̵a̸l̶l̷ ̶o̷v̸e̴r̴ ̵h̷i̸m̵ ̸a̸n̴d̷ ̸m̵a̸k̵e̴ ̸h̵i̷m̴ ̸l̷o̸o̵k̶ ̶l̷i̵k̶e̷ ̴t̷h̶e̸ ̷b̴a̴d̸ ̷g̸u̶y̴.̷

The voice in her head makes it hard to actually hear what he's saying. (Shut up...) She groans as he presses against her vein, the grip on his wrist tightening reflexively. What is he trying to say? Try to focus, Hibiki.

B̷u̵t̷ ̴s̴e̴e̸?̶ ̴T̸h̸i̴s̶ ̸i̷s̴ ̸w̵h̴a̸t̵ ̴a̷l̴w̸a̷y̶s̴ ̵h̸a̴p̷p̷e̴n̷s̴ ̶w̴h̸e̵n̵ ̷y̸o̶u̷ ̷t̷r̵y̷ ̷t̴o̷ ̴d̴o̴ ̷s̸o̶m̶e̷t̴h̷i̷n̶g̸ ̷f̸o̷r̴ ̷s̴o̷m̸e̸o̴n̶e̷ ̶e̵l̶s̵e̵.̴ ̶S̴t̵i̴l̶l̸,̶ ̵w̴o̸w̸,̸ ̴t̶h̶i̸s̷ ̸h̷a̶s̶ ̵g̶o̶t̵t̶a̵ ̷b̷e̷ ̵a̸ ̴r̸e̷c̶o̷r̷d̶,̶ ̵p̶a̷t̸ ̴y̷o̴u̶r̵s̵e̷l̷f̷ ̸o̸n̷ ̶t̷h̴e̴ ̶b̶a̴c̷k̶-̵-̷ ]

BOTH OF YOU JUST SHUT UP!

[ Hibiki immediately stops as those words rip through her. A siren's Voice is dangerous, but the shift to the Netherworld has taken practically all the bite out of them. Even still, she reflexively tenses up, eyes snapping open as she holds her breath and panic washes over her. ]

（ he's faced a broad variety of people with abilities that ranged from the believable to the unspeakably strange — but her voice cuts through his awareness like a knife, and his teeth click shut on an argument.

both of us? ）

Who are you talking about?

（ his voice is quiet and calm — gone is the frantic concern. now he's just wondering if he has to be ready for a fight. ）

[ She can't really pale anymore than she already is (yay blood loss!), but instead Hibiki stares up at Ichigo in fear, even if his own voice feels surprisingly collected considering the circumstances.

W̵e̷r̴e̸ ̸y̵o̶u̵ ̴t̵a̶l̶k̷i̸n̷g̶ ̸t̵o̵ ̶m̶e̶ ̵o̴r̵.̴.̶?̸

Hibiki takes a slow, deep breath, shrinking a bit as her gaze lowers. ]

That... shadow thing, I think. Sorry, I...

[ Because as far as she knows, she's never heard That one speak to her. Whatever or whoever possessed her when she was alive. ]

I'm sorry I yelled at you. I dunno what got into me.

It's fine.

（ yelling at him isn't something that has ever required apology in his mind, so his deflection is instant and automatic. he shakes his head, and keeps!! trying!! to bandage her arm!! ）

Look, the Shadows talk to everyone. It's not your fault. But are you sure we actually need to make a blood offering, or did your Shadow trick you?

[ She doesn't shy away, but she's still gritting her teeth through the pain. It's fine, this is fine. ]

It didn't say a thing about the offering. I'd remember that.

[ But it isn't working yet, nothing's happening so clearly she's done something wrong. She needs to get them out of this mess, it's her responsibility. ]

Don't think that's enough. Ease up on my arm.

（ why does he already hate you for all this. ichigo stares at her for a long moment, his brows drawn down, and then he does as he's asked. ）

We should both do it, then.

[ Her eyes snap open as she stares at Ichigo, protests on her lips even before she can fully form them. She clenches a fist, not realizing that's going to make Ichigo's job harder. ]

No. One of us has to stay in good shape. I got this. Focus on you.

（ ~~bikini~~ hibiki bleeds a bunch, ichigo packs her out and probably bandages her up somewhere nice and safe and then yells at her a whole bunch. annnd scene. ）

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MOD EVENT #001

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handwaved;