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

[coherer]

Uh, yeah. Yeah, totally. Just a sec— (he starts with the woman's underarms, hiking her higher as gently as he possibly can. ensuring her head is cushioned against his shoulder before sliding her with some effort off of the ground, she lies motionless against jonas until he's able to manoeuvre her onto hibiki's shoulders and back.)

Heavier than she looks—hey, If you're doing the heavy lifting, I can make sure a path's clear for us. I can wave down some help, too.

You got her?

(jonas is eager to move but hovers like a worried parent over the pair of injured ladies. it should be him carrying the dead weight, shouldn't it? is that a sexist thought? hibiki's a trained martial artist, but she's—well, she's short is what she is. extremely short. the unconscious woman drapes over her like an overlarge mink coat, except the blood stains are, in jonas' personal opinion, "not in fucking vogue."

if hibiki says she's got it, she's got it.

leading the way, their heading is set for the soft lights of serene.)

You said you had to find answers... what'd you mean? 'Cause it was pretty cryptic.

cw: brief mention of suicide

[windsongs]

That'd be great, thanks Jonas.

[ If the woman was any taller, carrying her might be a problem for Hibiki. As it stands, she does have to do some very delicate readjusting to make transport easier on both parties, but she manages. She rises without much difficulty before giving the teen a nod. See, she's got this! He's got nothing to worry about.

Just don't tell Hibiki whether they're bleeding on her. She doesn't want or need to know.

Following Jonas as he secures a path, her gaze trails upwards. Well, she meant that as an off-hand comment, but he's more attentive than he looks. Taking a deep breath, she keeps him in her peripheral vision, but otherwise avoids looking at him. ]

I had to learn cause of my mom. I was trying to find who killed her.

[ Well, that's the exact opposite of cryptic... which she realizes almost immediately after the words fall from her lips. She looks back at him, thankful she can only see the back of his head at this point. ]

She died when I was seventeen, a little before I finished high school. The cops said she jumped from our building in order to save face. They said she did it because she couldn't face the shame of owing money to the family who owned that territory. Or because she was ashamed of people finding out what she did for a living. But I know that's not what happened. I was looking into it before... well, before I came here.

So let's just say I've got a little experience digging for clues that supposedly don't exist.

[coherer]

Jesus Christ, Hibiki.

(there's no chance of jonas not whirling to face hibiki when she's so forthright with the truth, all the facts he could need presented to him in a way that perplexes him further. suicide? murder? he stares owlishly at her, uncertain how to process this new information while coping with the fact that several strangers were murdered only moments ago.

is this carnage digging into hibiki's old wounds? should he have enlisted her help at all or insisted on carrying the injured woman to give her breathing room?)

Man, I'm... I'm so sorry. That must've been—that must still be insane to even think about. I didn't mean to bring it up in such a—I didn't even think, and I... I should've.

(it's a lot; he feels unworthy to hear it so soon after they met. the topic itself could've been easily avoided, so jonas comes to the conclusion that she was waiting for a chance to open up. this place begs them to share what they normally wouldn't or couldn't.)

You're brave for searching like that. I mean, I don't think most people would.

[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.

[coherer]

("because in their mind, they've got no other choice," jonas echoes internally. he's faced that already, over and over and over again. while he wouldn't call it bravery when all he could think about was getting home, someone else might.

someone else might've refused to try at all.)

Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too.

(not wanting to keep hibiki idle, jonas briefly checks on the woman on her back and once again leads the way. deeper into mirth they go to find help; should they have called sakura? would she have been busy handling other patients far more injured than this one?

a tense silence reigns for a couple of minutes until jonas finds something else to say. it's rare for him to reach out to relate to someone, so it's said almost shyly—defensively.)

My mom died, too. It was... It was fairly recent, I guess, and she wasn't—it wasn't murder or anything like that, but—I don't know, man. I think what I'm saying is that I... understand a little bit. I understand just, like, the helplessness of it all. It's hard to know what to do.

I'm glad you chose to work instead of choosing to lie down and wallow.

[windsongs]

[ Bravery is continuing to live on despite losing something so monumentally important to you; so yes, Jonas would be included in that, even if he doesn't believe it himself.

Talking about gets easier too, but that feeling never fully goes away. Her own mood fluctuating in part due to the nature of this place, Hibiki walks on in silence, feeling the adrenaline finally starting to come down. She is immediately dialed back into the moment when Jonas mentions his mom, her eyes snapping open as she gives him her full attention. ]

Jonas... Shit.

[ You didn't hear that.

Carefully adjusting the person on her back, Hibiki picks up the pace slightly, until she's practically walking by his side. ]

Doesn't matter how, losing someone like that... Sorry doesn't ever cut it, I know. I wish... I wish you didn't have to find out how much it hurts, and how lonely and helpless something like that makes you feel. You've got family and friends to help you though, right?

[ Realizing how unintentionally insensitive that is considering where they are, the small blonde tilts her head to look up at him with a quietly reassuring smile. ]

And you've got me until we can get you back to them. If you'll have me, I mean.

[coherer]

No, it's— ("okay"? it isn't and hibiki knows that personally, which is why jonas cuts himself off to listen to what she has to say.

he doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this. awkward sincerity, even insensitive—it is, but only mildly, and jonas finds that it makes him feel less alone in tripping up or making the occasional mistake—is appreciated more than people's pointless platitudes.

all those clichés she's surely heard too are remembered now, and he smiles despite the mood.)

What, no "time heals all wounds"? I don't even get a "she's in heaven with God and His angels now"? (jonas says it for both of their sakes, willing the conversation into something lighter. thankfully, hibiki already paved the way. all he has to do now is lift a shoulder, act as if he's coping well, and address her kindness:) You know... I think that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me.

(he looks over at her, meeting her eyes.)

You've got me, too. So, if either of us is feeling lonely or helpless, we pick up the phone. You can talk to me about whatever—your mom, this place, things on your mind, or just... nothing. Cool?

[windsongs]

[ Quick to pick up what he's trying to do, a faint smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. Ah yes, Hibiki is all too familiar with platitudes like that. Glancing over at him, she tilts her head slightly. ]

Oh, sorry, let me try that again. "I'll keep you and your family in my thoughts." How's that? It's one of my personal favorites.

[ Her expression softens however as he meets her gaze, the sardonic smirk she put on turning into a genuinely warm smile. He's a good kid. It certainly doesn't hurt that they both lost their moms around the same age. ]

Yeah... Yeah, I think I'd like that. You've got a deal, Jonas. [ And as tempting as it is to immediately ask him about his mom, Hibiki will relent--especially as she feels the woman on her back start to stir. ]

Hey, can you spot for me? I think I feel her coming to.

[coherer]

Damn, you're right, that's totally the best one. Like, sure you are, random lady mom met once at church. (jonas actually laughs. it's subdued, but it's there, and it's because this falls directly within his coping mechanism's purview. to joke about things that can't be changed is, in his opinion, a superpower.)

I recognize this area, we shouldn't be too far from—well, something.

(already leaning in to check on their patient, jonas glances briefly ahead to make sure there's nothing in the street that could frighten her when she wakes. then, not applying too much pressure, he lays a hand between the woman's shoulder blades.

"what... what happened? where am i?" predictably, she struggles. his hand stays put and another raises, ready to catch a wrist or elbow in case she gets any ideas about lashing out at hibiki.)

Easy, easy... I'm Jonas, she's Hibiki; we're taking you to a doctor. You were knocked out at the Harvest, do you remember that?

[windsongs]

[ Hibiki laughs a bit herself, shaking her head with a knowing smile. Oh, she feels this one. She can't even remember how many people from her mom's old hometown she met the first time during her funeral, but that was the most common thing she heard from them. At least try a little harder.

Slowing her pace as the woman starts to come to, Hibiki turns her head slightly. She might not be able to see her, but keeping her head forward and talking feels incredibly rude.

The woman sounds befuddled, eyes slowly focusing as she tries to piece everything together. Right, she was at the festival with her family. Immediately launching into frantic questions about whether they're okay, Hibiki glances toward the road, keeping her head turned. ]

We're doing what we can to take care of the injured. If you tell us their names, we can make sure to steer them to where you'll be staying.

[ While her expression isn't quite grim (she won't let it be), the blonde turns her eyes forward, brows furrowed slightly as the injured woman shakily rattles off a few names. ]

[coherer]

Okay, okay, I'm typing them into my phone so we can ask around in a bit. (it's not a lie to placate her either. with his phone out, jonas is now intent on making sure the rest of the woman's family is safe—what if they died while she was unconscious? what could be worse than not being able to save them?

he thinks of his stepsister, how he died and left her back on that island, and wipes his face with the side of his hand.)

You just focus on resting right now. That's what they'd want you to do, alright?

Let's try over here, Hibiki. It looks like a... a bar, but they've got lights on in the upstairs windows. Maybe they can let her lie down for a short while. (it's better than nothing in his opinion, and they can't find a doctor quickly with someone weighing them down. he considers again calling sakura—then again, the frightful harvest has turned bloody; she's undoubtedly preoccupied.

steering them toward the nearest business, jonas jogs away from them to raise a hand at a couple of bouncers. one immediately starts forward in concern.)

We've got injured over here! She's—she got struck on the head or something. I-I—we didn't know where to go. Can you help us out?

(checking back on hibiki, he gestures her forward.)

Hey, they said they can help call somebody!

[windsongs]

[ Her expression still hazy, the woman frowns before quietly agreeing. Goodat that means she wouldn't fight the two of them.

Following behind, Hibiki is infinitely thankful for having Jonas lead the charge. It lets her focus on the injured woman on her back instead of having to split her attention between that and finding a good place to take her. Carefully shuttling over toward the bar as Jonas beckons her over, she is quick to thank the bouncer assisting her.

Escorted into a makeshift bedroom fashioned on the top floor, Hibiki very carefully moves the woman to a cot before rolling her shoulders. The small blonde offers a quiet, albeit tired smile down at her. ]

Here, try to get some rest. The staff downstairs should be able to check on you. Me and Jonas are gonna find someone to take a look at you. Hang tight, okay?

[ And this is when she looks toward Jonas. Sorry, friend, but they're not quite done yet. They can possibly ask around in the bar proper. ]

[coherer]

We're gonna stop in again, (jonas assures her, catching hibiki's look and reading it as a sign to slip out into the hall. she'll be safe here, he knows that, but it's difficult to leave her side.

being a bleeding heart is exhausting.

taking his friend aside, jonas crosses his arms to hide how the night is troubling him; his hands won't stop shaking, so he'll force them to.)

Hey, you did a really good job. Not just carrying her, like, dealing with all of that. (that comes first. morale is just as important as getting results.) What should we do now? We've gotta find her some help, right? Or even... check to see if any of her family members got out.

You're the detective, Hibiki, I think this should be your call.