oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-10-06 01:15 pm

MOD EVENT #001

A CHAOTIC RESPITE


It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.

On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...

“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”


...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?

► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)
When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.

“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition. It's the absence of the lantern that is contributing to the wood’s unusually active malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”


So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.

It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.

► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.

No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.

Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you:
I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?


If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.

the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail.
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.
.


► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME
Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.

Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.

“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”


And without further ado, let the festivities begin!

► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.

► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.
Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.
Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.
. ► HARVEST HUNT
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.

► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.

► III. WAYWARD SUN
The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.


ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
For a little spooky ambience in the woods.

immortalrose: (Teeth bared clawing the air)

[personal profile] immortalrose 2022-10-06 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Hello yet again!

This isn't a event specific question but I was wondering if players could make "tags" for their characters in the log community. That way it would be easier for players to find old posts and the likes.

If so, how would your team like these tags to be formulated?
immortalrose: (Your heart is racing)

[personal profile] immortalrose 2022-10-06 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)
No worries! I just thought I would ask~

HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH!
nagano: all manga bases by <user name=dresspheres site=tumblr> (midnight - oh mister midnight)

[personal profile] nagano 2022-10-06 07:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Will homeworld items reforged with a soul have the potential to scream at random intervals?

I guess this question can also be extended to anything forged with soulsteel or Stygian steel-
Edited (words ...... ) 2022-10-06 19:12 (UTC)
nagano: (like a puppet that swings on a string)

[personal profile] nagano 2022-10-06 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you! Can't wait for my boy's chopsticks to have a disgruntled conversation with him.
exilire: <user name="inkonic"> (pic#15877314)

Re: QUESTIONS

[personal profile] exilire 2022-10-06 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Doran is apparently in the gardens of Radiance during this, but will he be available to talk to any of them in person at the Harvest, or will it just be over the network?
windsongs: (Default)

Hibiki Fujiwara | Original

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-06 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
🍃 o1. KNOCK ON WOOD.
    [ As threads in this part of the event may go into items that may be uncomfortable for some, please see the content warnings post here. If you need to tap out of any or all interactions with Hibiki during this, just let me know! ]

    [ Her first mistake was rushing in—but the most egregious is doing so alone. Maybe it’s over-confidence that causes her to run ahead, or the intense need to solve this problem as soon as possible and by any means necessary; the reasoning ceases to matter as soon as the Oakwoods swallow her whole. The disconcerting, hissed whispers from the denizens of this place seep into her the deeper she wanders, and at times it feels as if they breathe that single word into her ears. If that was all she had to contend with, she could weather it.

    But their voices aren’t the only ones plaguing her. Hearing her own voice in her head, it grows even more persistent, even more malicious as she dives deeper into the woods. Cloyingly sweet, the harpies’ cries only seem to punctuate each note from her shadow. Ah yes, it seems these monsters know her all too well. Does she think they realise that she’s the reason why her mother died? It’s her fault for not being there; Mayuri might still be alive if she had just come home. If Hibiki wasn’t a monster like the ones circling them now like vultures, none of that would have happened. Her mother could be living a peaceful, quiet life with the family that would never welcome her abomination of a daughter.

    Fate truly is cruel; and it is her fate to bring nothing but pain and suffering into the world, hidden behind a fake smile and forced optimism. What would they say if they knew what she really was: A monster and a murderer. And she has to protect them from that. To save them. If she truly wants to do something for the good of those around her, she needs to cut them off by any means necessary. It’s all right.

    J̷u̷s̶t̶ ̴g̵r̸i̸n̸ ̴a̴n̵d̵ ̷b̸e̶a̸r̵ ̵i̸t̵ ̵l̵i̷k̴e̴ ̵y̷o̵u̷ ̴a̵l̸w̵a̵y̵s̷ ̷d̵o̴,̴ ̸H̷i̴b̶i̷k̵i̴.̴ ̶I̷t̶’̶s̷ ̵t̶h̴e̸ ̷o̸n̶l̴y̶ ̴t̴h̶i̶n̵g̵ ̶y̵o̸u̷’̵r̷e̸ ̶a̷n̴y̴ ̷g̷o̸o̴d̴ ̵a̴t̵.̶

    Despite the severe lack of light within the Oakwoods themselves, once her eyes adjust she can make out forms shifting through the inky black miasma. But even then, where one sense is lacking, there are others that are running on overdrive; her ears pick up the distinct crackle from the torch in her hand, as well as the sound of brush being disturbed in the distance. The voice in her head tells her to ignore it, but in a brief moment of clarity, Hibiki manages to push against the voice in her head to move toward a peculiar sound.

    A haunting, lilting melody wending through the woods.

    Her mind immediately goes into overdrive, as Hibiki tries desperately to focus on the song and tune out everything else around her. But this quickly backfires, as her shadow doubles down (Y̵o̶u̴ ̶s̷e̵e̷?̷ ̵B̵a̶d̴ ̴l̷u̴c̸k̶ ̴f̵o̸l̴l̸o̷w̶s̸ ̶y̷o̷u̷ ̴w̸h̸e̴r̵e̸v̸e̸r̵ ̴y̶o̸u̷ ̸g̴o̶,̴ ̴a̷n̶d̷ ̴n̸o̴w̴ ̸y̵o̷u̶ ̵h̵a̵v̴e̸ ̶a̸n̵o̸t̷h̴e̴r̷ ̵d̶a̸n̸g̴e̴r̴o̸u̶s̵ ̶t̶u̸n̵e̵ ̷t̸r̶a̷p̶p̵e̸d̵ ̶i̴n̵ ̷y̶o̴u̶r̵ ̷h̷e̵a̶d̴.̵) and she fails to notice another Restless as they approach her. To the outside observer, she seems frozen in place, the only indication that something is wrong being how tense her posture seems. For the first time in most of her life, someone manages to sneak up on her; and whether it’s due to a snapped twig as you draw closer, or because you’ve called out to her, the blonde whirls around, her torch flickering as she tries to punch this new person.

    But she thankfully stops, eyes wide as she seems something other than a harpy or some other monster. ]


    …Oh! Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—

    [ Hurricane Hibiki at her finest. At least nobody got hurt (yet). ]

    [ OOC note: Encountering Puck will be locked to a specific thread. Characters that encounter her in this prompt will end up getting separated before reaching the fae. ]

🍃 o2. GO BIG OR GO HOME.
    [ After the whole ordeal in the Oakwoods, despite the fact that Hibiki went well out of her way to help with decorating, the blonde is surprisingly absent until the day that the Blitz is set to take place. From the time that the sun rises until just after nightfall, she more than makes up for being scarce during that time (she thinks). Performances are scattered among three different sections of Stygia, so that means that she will be doing her best to split her time among the various sites, to join in on the revelry.

    At the Harbor, Hibiki spends most of the morning with the fishermen and those working the docks. One of her first jobs was out here, after a very well-placed tip from a few people who let her know that they were always in need of extra hands, Hibiki has had a chance to pick up on a few popular sea shanties being slung around while they toiled away. With the Blitz taking place, it’s less of a competition for clout, but for who can sing the loudest; even if she isn’t going to win that contest, the blonde will still gleefully participate.

    Some of the songs being sung however are more than a little vulgar and crass. Definitely not something a nice, young lady like her should be singing. And yet her voice rises like the rest of them, singing about wine, women, song, and, what any sailor wants to do after he gets off this bleeding boat and around a pretty young thing! Does it bother her? No. Is she making up new lyrics in that section to be less R-rated? Mostly!

    Thoroughly warmed up after her time at the Harbor, in Serene, the small blonde can be found wandering throughout, never staying in one place for too long. She sees this as an opportunity to practice for the real show at Mirth, with her set scheduled for some time later in the night. There are a few small performance spaces that materialize in the afternoon and evening, and at each one, Hibiki makes an appearance.

    The song she sings is incredibly heartfelt—but she manages to shake that melancholic mood off when someone comes to speak with her afterwards. She’s her usual bright and sunny self, even after the emotional toil that the Restless as a whole have been through. Whether you approach her, or if she sees you there (maybe you were at another site as well?), Hibiki will beam brightly. ]


    You came! I’m really glad! So, what’d you think? I hadn’t gotten a chance to perform it yet, so I just had to!

    [ But when the sun sets and contestants begin to filter into the tent in Mirth, a certain songbird is surprisingly absent. Whoever happened to be up against her that round will get a free pass. ]

🍃 o3. WAYWARD SUN.
    [ option 1 ]
    [ While the Horseman rips and tears through people like paper, Hibiki fights tooth and nail to keep him from adding more victims to the body count. If she sees anyone in immediate danger, the bright and sunny blonde’s usual carefree countenance shatters with the first swing of this monster’s blade. Muscle memory takes over, a storm raging behind those slate-blue eyes as she moves with an inhuman alacrity; closing the space between the Horseman and his next potential victim.

    The person she’s swooped in to protect won’t get a warning before they are pulled out of the way, as blade bites deep into the earth. Depending on the person, this might only involve Hibiki hooking an arm around them and tugging them out of the way. But for those a reasonable amount larger than this 5’1” woman, they might feel a flutter of wind wrap around them as well to help extricate them from certain doom. Either way, she will be placing herself between the person she just saved from getting sliced. Nice try, asshole, but she’s not letting him merc anyone else if she can avoid it. ]


    Hey, you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?

    [ option 2 ]
    [ As the Horseman charges off toward the Tempest, however, it takes everything in her to not charge after that bastard. But the moment she hears the first anguished, heartrending scream as it rips from one of those spared in the onslaught, Hibiki freezes as her stomach drops. Yes, she had just been leaping in to assist—or to body block, if the blood on her person is any indication (most of which isn’t her own).

    The world starts to filter back in once the wailing starts, as she has to fight to not gag on the overwhelmingly acrid smell of spilled blood. She’s used to fighting, but she isn’t used to this. There’s nothing she can do to fix this nightmare! Lives have been lost, and more will be if they can’t triage this, tend to the wounded and calm those (understandably) inconsolable souls trapped in this Hell—

    In a strange moment of clarity, as the clouds in her mind begin to part, she thinks of one thing she can do. Hibiki takes a deep breath, her hand instinctively going to the ring on her left hand (no point, she already knows it won’t hinder her here), she moves toward the closest tormented soul and does the only thing she can think to do in this situation.

    She sings. It took her death to begin to embrace this part of herself, but the blood of a Siren flows through her veins; she may be a monster, but she will use that birthright for something good. While not nearly as effective as it would have been in life, and at times going in and out, she is able to bestow some sense of calm directly around her. Seeking out those giving aid or who are under an overwhelming amount of duress, she will crouch down next to them with a single thought she hopes to convey to anyone struggling with their injuries or the scene before them:
    Focus on me. ]
🍃 o4. WILDCARD.
    [ Feel free to hit me up with an idea on Hibiki’s planning tl, or just toss a scenario at me! ]

windsongs: (011)

@nagano

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-06 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Alone again, her head feels fuzzy as she struggles to focus on the song that floats among the trees. Doggedly forcing herself on even as the number of harpies perching overhead continues to grow, it’s the deafening sound of her own voice that she has to fight against the most. But it’s strange—while still speaking with a sickly-sweet purr, her shadow’s words have become less outwardly malicious and more… reassuring. She feels right at home here, doesn’t she?

F̶o̸r̶ ̴t̸h̴e̸ ̵f̸i̷r̴s̷t̵ ̶t̸i̴m̸e̵,̴ ̸y̴o̸u̵'̸v̷e̸ ̶f̴i̷n̷a̴l̴l̶y̴ ̴f̸o̷u̴n̸d̴ ̶a̵ ̷p̵l̸a̷c̴e̷ ̷w̷h̸e̷r̶e̶ ̴y̷o̷u̵ ̵b̴e̵l̷o̶n̷g̸.̶ ̴D̴o̸e̵s̶n̴’̵t̶ ̷t̶h̶a̴t̸ ̵s̴o̶u̷n̴d̵ ̵n̸i̴c̶e̸?̷

By the time she reaches Puck, harried by the half-siren’s own compelling voice, she can feel herself slipping. It’s not unlike when that spirit would pull her back into recesses of her mind (that’s what it was, right? Something that would eventually take over…), which is perhaps her only saving grace. Hibiki knows this feeling, and as the prankster beckons her closer, the lantern held in one hand, the blonde clenches her fists tightly, digging nails into flesh to keep herself from losing control.

She obviously knows who this is, but— ]


That lantern… doesn’t belong to you.

[ Her hands shake as her shadow whispers sweetly, like a mother trying to soothe her child;

K̴i̵l̵l̴ ̴h̵i̴m̷ ̵a̷n̶d̸ ̴h̸e̴'̴l̵l̶ ̵h̵a̵v̷e̵ ̶n̷o̷ ̸c̶h̸o̶i̶c̷e̴ ̷b̷u̴t̶ ̷t̶o̸ ̶g̴i̶v̷e̷ ̴i̴t̵ ̷u̶p̵.̶ ]
oomfies: 𝑜𝑜𝓂𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓈 (💚 vows.)

[personal profile] oomfies 2022-10-07 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
👻 1. 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨
    [ 'Tis the season, and Lottie isn't one to deny herself the fun of a ye olde dead iteration of Halloween (the fitting, original iteration, maybe?). And since she can't whip up a fun costume, why not decorate the house?

    Easier said than done. It's the evening before the actual festival, with Lottie scrambling as nonchalantly as she can to put something fun outside of her humble abode. For some odd, irritable reason, she's feeling grosser than usual, an exhausted and bitter sort of frown marring her face walking the streets. It's especially worse now, with all of her decorations having spilt onto the ground after bumping into you. ]


    Shit.

    [ It's entirely her fault, she was staring down at her phone trying to manifest something interesting to show up. But still, she curses like it was yours. Cute and mildly creepy paper banners and streamers decorate the ground, some visibly soaking through from the sheen of wet decorating the ground. It takes her a second to stare hard at you (mouth ajar to say something undoubtedly scathing and stupid), until she feels a droplet on her head.

    And then another. And oh god it's raining — ]


    Shit!

👒 2. 𝙜𝙤 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚
    a. [ It's no surprise she's meandered her way into the tent with everybody in it, insanely curious about what the heck is going on to make the crowd scream and giggle every so often.

    And if you're inside, standing alongside her and just watching (what she will later find out as the bardic blitz), you'll see her.. Hm. Not look particularly enthused or particularly appalled. She puts a drink up to her face, clearly in thought, when one of the musicians on the stage says something cute and quirky in the tune of something very lovely to her ears. And then, she groans. Half embarrassed, and then there it is — she's cringing behind her hand. ]


    b. [ Lottie is subtly sniffing at the drink in her hand, having snatched something up just so seem like she's participating in the culture rather than actually enjoying herself. Her nerves are still flaring and she's a bit nervous. Jittery? But not enough to make her completely cut off to any interaction. It means she doesn't worry as much about how she's perceived when she turns to somebody beside her, and whether you've been hovering over different snacks deciding which, she'll interrupt as politely as she can: ]

    Sorry, have you tried any of these yet?

    [ She points to the cakes and cookies, the different treats that are being dropped off around them and touted as fresh and fun for an event like this. ]

    c. [ Getting fresh air usually isn't great for someone like Lottie, but sometimes when she's near tapped out of energy to spare to talk, to socialize, it's needed.

    It's how she's found herself somewhere out in the wild.. Which, honestly, is an overstatement, and dramatized one quite frankly — Lottie's sat her butt down on a very cold bench in this extremely creepy amusement park, a little ways off from the exit of the corn maze. Far enough to be by herself, and far enough to have some actual silence.

    There's a little handkerchief beside her, a cutely cut sandwich (in the shape of a pumpkin, thematically appropriate as always) atop it. She's about to take a bite into it after she takes her phone out, the light from the screen being the only thing to really give away that someone is there, when she accidentally makes eye contact.. With you.

    And unintentionally holds it.

    And then slowly waves. ]

💼 3. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙙
[ or feel free to hit me up with whatever you want!! i'm easy 👀 if you wanna plot something out in specific feel free to reply to my plotting comment over this way. for 2b, feel free to specify what drink/food you'd like in the header! otherwise i'll just randomize it each time. ]
janescayre: (019)

Fukawa Toko + Genocider Syo| Danganronpa

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-07 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
A) SPAM BLOCK (Network)

[Hate this...of course the second people gear up for a pleasant celebration, someone gets publicly massacred. It's like she never left home.

After valiantly stopping the projectile expulsion of her lunch:]


Subject: Atrocious Voice Mail Sender: [profile] harukaze

Is this a set up? Are they asking us to come just to feed us to their stupid monster trees? There's no way it was broadcast this widely without some ulterior motive



B) KNOCK ON WOOD (Campfire)

["As tall as ten men, with bulbous eyes that press out from the skull..."

Irritating as his prank may be — if you call upsetting a magic forest into slaughtering innocent people a "prank" — Fukawa finds it all too easy to soak in Puck's honeyed voice, dripping sweet words about spooks and ghouls. She's terribly afraid of the dark, no fan of horror, and she may be wedged up close to her companion, maybe gripping their hand without warning, but oh, she couldn't turn away if she tried!

He's a god all right. Godly looks, those cheekbones are hewn from marble, surely. And oh, those dark, mysterious eyes, the curl of his hair. She almost forgets what tale he's spinning.

Until the ground rumbles beneath them. The flames flicker. There it is again. Footsteps. Enormous ones, drawing ever closer. The trees rattle behind them, falling, a long shadow drifts over their gathering, dim from the moonlight but unmistakable.

Fukawa freezes on the spot. She looks to her companion, wide-eyed with dread.]


Uuuuuuuuum...

[They're fucked.]


C) GO BIG OR GOURD HOME

[WELL THAT SUCKED.

Lanterns returned, sanity intact (barely), Fukawa is easy to find among the festivities. Always on the fringes though, glowering at the live music, or trying to escape the parade. Too much joviality.

The feast is regarded with equal suspicion. She'll be sitting alone when you find her, pushing the items around on her plate, unsure of each in equal measure. She's taken a little of everything, drinks included, but can't decide which is the least treacherous of the lot.]


I c-can understand why royals used to have p-poison testers. [She'll note with a grimace.] I'll bet they've spiked it all. Or put thumb tacks in the cake.

D) WAYWARD SUN

[THIS ALSO SUCKS???

Fukawa can't help but curse the name of Washington Irving as she runs for dear life. The Headless Horseman seems to have caught on that she's easy prey, and without her damn taser she can't very well swap to Syo on the run. Have you tried forcing yourself to sneeze while sprinting from a madman?]


DON'T KILL ME!! [HUFF! HUFF!] I'M NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOUR COLLECTION! LEAVE ME ALOOOOOOOONE!!!
Edited 2022-10-07 01:10 (UTC)
janescayre: (127)

Genocider Syo | Danganronpa | this is way too long help

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-07 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
E) PUCK IT ALL - closed to both KAITO and JOONGHYUK

[She'd come up alone. Intended to keep it that way, until the last leg of the journey some knucklehead had up and joined her. Totally uninvited by the way. Too old for her tastes, but they were both knee deep in the shit now. And by this point, she's grateful for the company. All Syo's had the whole way was that icky voice in her head, and it had a running commentary that could put DVD extras to shame.

a͖͖͖n͓͕̪d͖͚̦ w̢̘͖h͇͉a̼͎̝t͍͚̞ d̝͖͜o̢͙̟ y̟̙̼o͖̫͜u̡̦͎ p̡͉l̺̼͉a͙̻͖n̢͎ t͕͉o̻̫̙ d̪͖͜o͕̼͓ w̢͉͙h̙̙e̢̙n̡̡͜ y͖̠̻o̢͖͇u̢͇͎ f̙̘̟i̙̙͜n̝̦͎d̡͕͚ t͇̙h̝͎̫e̢͖͓ c̞͖u̢̺͇l͔͉̦p̫̠͓r̡̟i͖̠͉t̟͓̼?̢̞̝

y̟͔̘o̪͇͔u̢͉ s͍̫̞h̝͎̠o̢̙͔u̞̝̝l͔̝͜d̼̙͔ h̺̘̫a͔͍̫v̢̺̝e̢̢̡ c͉̼͔a̼͔̼j̼̪̪o̪̠͉l͚͕̞e͇̺̞d͓͔̻ o͍͎n͓̝͙e͇͔͖ o͚̙̺f̡̢̙ t͓̝̝h̫̻͇e̪̺̘ b͇͓͚o̡̟͖y͖̫̪s̝̙̠ i̫͍͜n̢͖͔t̞͚̙o̝̝ c͙̪̼o͔̼͎m̞̟̞i͍̼͜n̡̦̦g̠͕,̝̻̪ t͉̠̪h̝̠͎e̼̘̞r͙͍͓e̟͇'͉͎͉s̪̝͕ n̻͉͙o̢̼̙ o̝͚̘n͓͓̺e͎̼͜ a͓̙̦r̼͎̪o͍͍͇u̢͖̝n̦̞̟d̢͇͍

n̫̟o̠͍͕ o͓̺̘n̦͉̪e̡̟͇ w̦̙̞o̡̟͇u͇̟͔l̡̙d͍̼ h̙͔͚a͕͚͕v͔͔̞e̘̻ t̡̼͖o̺̼ k͚͉̘n̢̼͙o̟̠̘w̞͔̠,̟̪͉ n̞̪̘o̢̪̻ o̙̠̪n͕̦̺e̪̠͔ w͙̞͎o̞͙̠u͔̼͉l͖͓͚d̫̞͓ f̡͓͜i͕̺n̢̫̙d̺̝̫ t̪̺̦h̡̺͇e̫͔͖ b̡͙͙o͕̙͕d͖̦͓i̫͚̦e̘͎̝s͓̞̦


So on and so forth, dredging up the memories. Kazukiyo-chan, soft little Shu-kun, oh, dear Takeda-senpai? Her blood is boiling hot. The replay is lifelike, as if she's been transported through time.

Then when she and this new guy find the sucker who took the lantern, it's like Christmas came early. Puck is otherworldly gorgeous, like he walked off a plinth in the Louvre. He gives them a spiel, something something tit for tat.

She's barely listening.]


Ooooh, I love a man who plays hard to get. [Her hands come to her cheeks. Her giggle is high and manic.] If you can't give us the lantern, should I pry it from your cold dead fingers?

[Puck raises a brow.

Shing!

There's a puff of smoke and Puck is gone. He's reappeared three meters away. A pair of scissors have been lodged hilt-deep in the tree he left behind — right where his neck should be.

No matter, more where that came from. She's already armed herself, three more pairs sling on the outside of her knuckles, the sharpest set of brass knuckles there ever was. She leaps after him. She can't stop laughing.

She forgot how much fun this was.]



F) MAZE RUNNER

[You've probably had a grand old time so far, being lost in this corny ass maze. What merry we're all making! What fun! What joy!

Except by now, you're surely lost. And there's a pair of footsteps always just behind you, until the second you turn around and there's nothing there. This repeats twice. Three times.

SURPRISE! FOURTH TIME'S THE CHARM! There's a fucking creep leaning out from the last turn you made. Her tongue hangs loose from her mouth, her eyes are bright beneath broad glasses, and they're fixed dead on you.]


Hiiiiiiii~ [She gives a little wave.] I was trying to give you a head start, but I'm getting fucking bored. Try running, okay?


G) HAYWIRE SUN

[In a shocking twist of fate, Fukawa has managed to swap personalities. Probably by mistake, maybe she got knocked out? Either way, you should be grateful. The Headless Horseman is raising his blade towards you, and the only thing that keeps your head on your shoulders is a sudden yank to your collar.

The swing narrowly misses you. There's a hiss of satisfaction and a crass voice cackling.]


Too slow, Gourd Guts!

[Your saviour is a magical school girl, too old for her uniform and too unruly to be permitted in class. She's got her scissors at the ready, and the Horseman is doubling back for you both.]


H) WILDCARD

[how tf did i make it all the way to H....anyway wildcard me bc I'm tired, Syo is difficult and mean but I guess you can find her on the fringes of society. Being a huge creep, cackling, dashing off into the night. Fukawa is at the festival because she's marginally more fit to be seen in public, catch her at any of the events or save her from falling on her ass. PM, discord me for plans, hit up my plotting comment, or just wing it. Love a surprise.]
damnpire: (pic#15956285)

d | vampire hunter d

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-07 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
FRIGHTFUL HARVEST
___________________

a.
[The usual tall, dark, and haunted Victorian child is here at the feast. For once, he doesn't look completely out of place. The drab all-black from head to toe fits the intended aesthetic; however, he does stick out in regards to all the jubilant festivities.

Everyone is having a fun time, but he's instead lingering at the edge of it all, a purposeful attempt to be invisible. From under the hat, his eyes are people watching, and because of it, he turns his head to glance at anyone who approaches.]

b.
[He has been a good boy for too long. Sometimes, you are immune to a lot of things, so you just test death and eat or drink whatever even if you know it'll wreck you. Just to see what it does.

He's had some of the spicy Grablenuts, and now remembers why he simply doesn't eat a lot of food. Rather than being spooky and ridiculous at the edge of the party, he has taken up lying on his back on top of one of the straw bales he's almost too long for, hat off and resting on his chest. He reaches out to gently grab the wrist of whoever is passing by with his pale hand, pulling them to see if they will sit on the bale next to him; the fingers look as if they should be cold, but they are actually quite warm.

He is really going to make everyone else sit with him in silence.]

c.
[Somewhere around the bend on the other side of the corn in the maze, a croaky and old voice is speaking aloud, but slightly hushed:]

I think you've made the same turn too many times to count! Could've sworn we've seen that corn husk before... I didn't think you'd want to waste time getting lost in a pretend maze when you could try the real thing, hehheh. Maybe it'd keep that other voice quiet, huh...?

[Surprisingly, a crusty old man does not step out from the corn. Instead, it's only D, still annoyingly beautiful and still annoyingly in all black. He pauses.]

It's a dead end.

d.
[For anyone who may want to bodyswap, D is here much like he had been at the start of the feast, standing and watching the parade.]

WILDCARD
_________
[Feel free to throw me random things you'd like to do! You can also hit up my plotting comment if needed, or pp me on Plurk ([plurk.com profile] moetan), or dm me on Discord!]
dirtdevil: (buying the right pants to be cool)

levi ackerman | attack on titan

[personal profile] dirtdevil 2022-10-07 01:45 am (UTC)(link)

i. strangers with candy

[ so far, being dead really isn't all that bad.

it may in fact speak more to how much his life fucking sucked than anything endorsing the relative walk in the park that the afterlife has been (again, so far), but whatever, it's fine. for example, it's gonna be a long time before he grows accustomed to the concept of an over-abundance of food. why do they even need to eat here? aren't they all dead? there's something so grossly ironic about nearly dying of starvation and then finding mountains of free food 30-something years later in the goddamn afterlife.

not cool.

regardless, hunger still seems to be a thing for some reason, and he's sure as hell not going to wait and find out what happens if he doesn't eat. the aforementioned over-abundance of food means it doesn't take long to find some festive shit to eat; more importantly, though, everyone's serving tea, and it's good tea. he's not one for parties (read: he doesn't get invited to parties), but this isn't so bad. he might even stay awhile.

and stay he does—at least until he finishes his tea. just on the outskirts of one small pocket of harvest festivities, he sits at his own table, sipping his tea.

at the table next to him, there is a middle-aged man slumped over, seemingly unconscious, surrounded by candy wrappers. but don't worry— ]


He's fine.

[ probably. this tea is oddly relaxing. ]

ii. the shortest distance (not a short joke btw)

[ and the relaxation continues—so much so, in fact, that he finds himself slightly more open to participating in stupid shit than usual, for better or worse.

why is there a maze made out of corn? the cosmic joke at his expense continues, it seems. there's really no point being mad about it, though, and since we are chilling right now, all it earns is an eye roll.

—actually, it's probably not even that hard. he could get through it pretty quickly, he thinks, firstdawn tea still running at a leisurely pace through his veins. he's made his way through far worse than fucking corn. what's the worst that could happen?

he gets lost. that's the worst that could happen.

at first it's no big deal: it'd be boring if it was too easy, right? but eventually the calming effects of the tea start to wear off, and so does his temporary adventurous spirit. no, now it's just one goddamn dead end after another, and he completely missed the whole thing about the hunter-prey game (which is super annoying), and he's just totally over it.

this specific dead end is the last straw. he's done. so he just starts scaling the wall of corn, climbing to the top of the maze with the practiced ease of a man who has spent a lot of time dealing with walls.

fuck this. ]

iii. obligatory cleaning prompt
❗️cw: vague gore

[ well. anybody got any more of that relaxing tea?

no, it'd take a lot more than a calming beverage to settle the nerves after witnessing something like that—even for someone like him, who has Seen Some Shit. in this case, "some shit" does not include a guy with no head (or maybe the pumpkin he was holding was his head? it was a little hard to tell, what with all the murder and all) riding around on horseback decapitating people with a sword.

kinda puts a damper on the festivities, doesn't it? the murderer has fled the area, but obviously the party's over now. in the immediate aftermath, it's not clear how many were killed, but the horseman did seem to be targeting specific people—not that he would know who they were either way, as new as he is to this place.

did they really have to die this way?

what a mess. but it's not something he'll be complaining about while he sticks around to help clean it up, no matter how much he hates the sight and the smell and the feel of blood; there's a time and a place for that shit, and this ain't either.

there's a woman in front of him in two pieces, after all.

maybe it was too optimistic to think that he wouldn't have to see someone's severed head on the ground anymore here in the afterlife. he's never been an optimist, but it seems things aren't going to be as relatively low-key as he thought. or maybe this shit just follows him around?

either way, it may look a little odd the way he quietly approaches the woman's head, and then kneels down right next to it. it's not like there's anything he or anyone else can do at this point. but a closer look will reveal that there is something he can do: slowly, he reaches over to the woman's face, staring lifelessly at nothing at all, and gently eases her eyes closed with his fingers.

so much for a walk in the park. ]

iv. wildcard

[ something else? a notice board prompt perhaps? feel free to pm or poke me over at [plurk.com profile] clickboom! ]
nagano: all manga bases by <user name=dresspheres site=tumblr> (i think i still love her)

E - Kaito ver.

[personal profile] nagano 2022-10-07 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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!
oomfies: 𝑜𝑜𝓂𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓈 (🧻 claws.)

toko 👯

[personal profile] oomfies 2022-10-07 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sure, she's been off her medication for a few days.. Or however long she's been 'dead'. Sure, being off her medication means possible side effects. Side effects like hallucinations. Last time she managed to skate by free of them, so what the fuck is happening now?

Is this real?

Caroline (who should be dead, she went splat! on the ground, right? Sure, she didn't check her pulse or anything but there was so much blood) is standing by herself. She looks as beautiful and as indifferent as ever and Lottie feels something grip her chest. A strange and horrific amalgamation of fear, anxiety, and relief. Caroline turns, wears her tank and sweatpants like they're designer, and calls out —

'Found you.'

It's a display that's, quite frankly, a little weird to witness if you can't see it. Lottie's staring at virtually nothing, experiencing such an intense mix of emotions. All before stumbling her way forward and wrapping her arms around nothing, tears building up at the corners of her eyes. ]


Caroline...?

[ Is this real? She hopes it is. Lottie's a cool mix between trying to play it cool and not trying to cry on Caroline's shirt, staring at the space above her (to her eyes, she's checking for her skull, her wounds, what does she remember?). And also, completely oblivious to anything around her. A terrible combination when she's so into what's happening, so sure that something good is finally happening to her. She grips at nothing (what she thinks to be fabric, long strands of black mixed in the bunch), her head is tilted down, nuzzling into something that makes her sigh. Lashes flutter open, on the verge of asking Caroline if she's going crazy, but what comes out instead is a small: ]

Are you.. [ She swallows, ] How did you find me? How did you know?

[ It's just dark enough into the night that it may almost seem like Lottie isn't hallucinating her ass off from the whiskey she had (their drink, the same thing they had on their first date). But it isn't dark enough to hide the fact that she's 1) alone, and 2) clearly has taken too long on her pee break to meet back with Toko by the snack table!! ]
nagano: all manga bases by <user name=dresspheres site=tumblr> (but my fluttering wings)

[personal profile] nagano 2022-10-07 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ S̸l̷o̵w̴ ̸d̶o̸w̸n̸,̵ ̴t̸a̷k̸e̵ ̷i̵n̴ ̶t̴h̸e̴ ̶s̵c̸e̸n̸e̵r̵y̵/̶

Kaito's breakneck pace through the woods only hastens at his Shadow's goading. The two of them have reached a sort of rhythm with one another—and not for the better. His Shadow encompasses every invasive, self-deprecating, self-loathing thought he's ever harmed himself with, and it knows. It knows everything about him, every secret, every aspiration, every fear...

It knows him better than he does, and they both know that Kaito can do nothing to stymie its presence. So, despite the fact that many of his usual migraines have faded out with the suppression of his powers, now he has to deal with this motherfucker.

I̶'̴m̶ ̷n̸o̵t̵ ̶T̴H̷A̸T̶ ̷b̴a̸d̷,̶ ̸a̷m̷ ̷I̶?̵ ̴C̶'̶m̵o̴n̶,̵ ̸y̴o̷u̸'̵l̸l̶ ̵A̶L̷W̶A̶Y̸S̷ ̸h̶a̵v̴e̷ ̷m̶e̴.̵ ̴I̸ ̴w̶o̷n̷'̴t̷ ̶r̷u̸n̵ ̵f̸r̶o̸m̵ ̶y̶o̴u̴,̶ ̶I̷ ̶w̶o̵n̸'̷t̵ ̸l̶i̴e̶ ̶t̴o̸ ̶y̶o̸u̸,̵ ̴a̸n̸d̴ ̷I̶ ̶m̷o̷s̷t̴ ̷c̸e̷r̷t̴a̷i̸n̷l̵y̷ ̵w̶o̵n̴'̴t̴ ̶d̶i̸e̵ ̴w̵h̵i̷l̴e̵ ̴y̸o̷u̷ ̸l̶o̴o̵k̷ ̵o̸n̵ ̶p̷o̷w̴e̴r̴l̴e̷s̸s̶l̶y̷.̵ ̴H̵a̷h̸!̷ ]


Can it. I'm trying to focus—

DEAD!!!

[ A harpy's wailing cackle blasts his eardrums from the right—and Kaito stops.

Clenches his fists.

Turns towards the source of the distraction, eyes burning a ghastly, ephemeral blaze.

...

As the water-logged avian twitches in a heap on the ground, its assailant resumes his sprint. In truth, ever since he split from the crazy scissor girl (that's rude, she has a name) Kaito's focus has been singularly directed at a distant, wavering aura.

It's Hibiki's—and there's no doubt in his mind that the mess of emotions spilling out of her are due to her Shadow's interference. He is particularly attached to the growing font of destructive intent that she seems to be struggling so hard to contain.

Strands of cerulean streak from his body, aura-infused limbs burning from the excessive strain of forcing their performance well past his (not-quite-so-)human limits. By the time he registers that he's in shouting range, it's a bit too late—

—Not to save the fae, but moreso to stop. Skidding out of the treeline, he topples forward and rolls to a very uncomfortable stop between Puck and the blonde. A single blue eye blinks under the heap that is the rest of his upturned body, and he waves. ]


Hi.

Please tell me you're not going to harm him. We can get his fragment of the lantern peacefully.

[ N̷i̷n̷e̴ ̸o̸u̸t̴ ̸o̷f̸ ̴t̶e̷n̶,̴ ̵f̸a̵n̶f̸u̶c̶k̴i̸n̷g̵t̶a̸s̷t̵i̷c̸.̴

T̵r̸y̴ ̷t̷o̴ ̶s̶t̸i̶c̶k̶ ̵t̷h̶e̵ ̷l̵a̷n̶d̸i̷n̵g̷ ̷n̸e̸x̸t̴ ̵t̸i̸m̶e̶,̸ ̶h̴e̵r̸o̸.̶
]
Edited 2022-10-07 03:50 (UTC)
windsongs: (Default)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-07 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's all she can do to focus on her breathing, forcing air in and out in time to help stay in the moment. Her nails continue to bite into flesh, although when she feels her hands start to unclench, she doubles down. In and out; hold steady. Focus on the moment, on what's going on in front of her. The lantern. She has to get back the lantern.

That selfsame lantern that the capricious fae jingles at her, the smirking at her with eyes that likely know exactly what's going on. Or maybe he doesn't, and he's just a lantern-stealing asswipe whose found a delightful human-shaped toy to play with. Regardless, as he beckons her to join him at his camp, that there will be a warm fire that she can rest beside. Hibiki takes a slow, lumbering step forward, her nails finally drawing blood.

T̵h̶e̴r̸e̴'̶s̴ ̴n̶o̷ ̸o̸n̷e̵ ̵h̶e̶r̴e̸ ̷t̸o̸ ̷s̶e̷e̵ ̵y̶o̸u̸ ̸d̴o̶ ̸i̶t̸.̷ ̶J̵u̷s̴t̶ ̶r̴i̵p̵ ̷t̵h̶e̴ ̴a̵i̶r̴ ̷f̵r̷o̴m̵ ̸h̷i̸s̷ ̷l̷u̵n̸g̶s̵;̶ ̴I̵ ̸k̸n̸o̴w̵ ̴y̴o̴u̷ ̸k̴n̷o̴w̸ ̸h̴o̶w̶!̴ ̶D̴o̵ ̵t̶h̶a̸t̸ ̷a̴n̴d̷ ̶e̵v̵e̴r̷y̷o̴n̵e̷ ̴c̷a̸n̸ ̵g̶e̶t̴ ̴b̵a̸c̴k̵ ̸t̷o̷ ̵t̵h̵e̷i̴r̶ ̸u̵n̶-̴l̴i̷v̶e̴s̴.̸

...If she does that, then they won't have to worry about the dangers of the Oakwoods. If she can pull in the air around, it should be easy enough to--

W̷h̷a̸t̸ ̵t̶h̶e̸ ̵f̴u̶c̸k̶?̶!̷

She would have snapped her back to reality (gravity sold separately) after finishing her thought, but instead, in these Super Cursed woods, someone had to be a showoff by literally rolling in unannounced. It's enough for Hibiki's eyes to snap open as she stares forward in bewilderment, her hand held up and ready to start pulling air out of thin air. She doesn't even have to look to see who just slid into the scene. ]


I...

[ H̵a̶d̶ ̸y̵o̷u̵r̶ ̸c̷h̴a̸n̷c̸e̴ ̸t̵o̷ ̶d̵o̸ ̵t̶h̷i̷s̸ ̵q̴u̷i̸e̶t̸l̴y̶.̵ ̵B̸u̶t̴ ̷t̸h̷a̵t̷'̴s̴ ̷o̸k̵a̶y̶.̷ ̵T̵w̵o̷ ̴s̷h̴o̷u̴l̴d̶ ̴b̸e̷ ̴j̵u̷s̸t̵ ̴a̶s̸ ̸e̴a̷s̴y̴ ̵a̴s̸ ̵o̵n̵e̴.̵

Hibiki still doesn't look at him. She doesn't move, even if she looks like she's going to be violently ill at any moment. ]


...I need you to leave, Kaito-san.

Please.
seaboard: (⌜𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞⌟)

b

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-10-07 09:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ He need not ask more than a tug, beckon more than a brush of warmth, and she folds easily. Always did, her mother would scold her.

Easy to see why she would want to, even with a veritable stranger. She has drunk and danced and sung. In disarray, her face was flushed and her voice turned to a rasp. The hay crunched under the heel of her palm as she moved to sit where he guided, dragging her fingers through her hair and shifting it, where at its great length, it fell well below her hips, almost to her knees. Getting it, and then her skirts, out of the way so she could sit.
]

The air tastes like honey, I think. Warm and... sweet. [ It's no more than a strained whisper and clear that she is - straining that is, done too much and now she could only rasp, but she is no less happy for it. ]
dodgeouttahell: (4)

zagreus / hades

[personal profile] dodgeouttahell 2022-10-07 01:11 pm (UTC)(link)
1. Knock on deez—:
a. Harpies and shadows go hiking
[The woods in the distance beckon him to step closer, regardless of how sinister they move. It's all novelty, promise, and excitement, and Zagreus finds the look of it very different from the lush blue/green fields of Elysium, the ruffle of the shrubbery on the surface. With no dawn to place her rosy fingertips on things, the darkness he's always known and lived surrounded by feels comforting instead of eerie. Add a task to search for something, a hike, even, and he's quick to step in beside another volunteer.] Ready? Need anything before we begin?

b. Is he hot, or is he just tall?
[Upon finding Puck and realizing the lantern is the artifact they had been looking for, they ask for it. It could be that they're arguing about what to do about it once Puck asks them to stay a while and listen, with Zag insisting that there's no harm in it (famous last words).

Still, perhaps he's unable to stop you from trying to snatch the lantern, with an irked 'No, wait!' as he reaches out, his dash fast but shortened, feet flaring to ember-like life as he moves. The lantern shatters like stars on a darkened floor, and Zag places himself between you and Puck as he flees with parting words about repayment with blood.

Or you've failed the riddle — Zagreus surely doesn't know what parsley is, much less sparsely — and the lantern and Puck disappear before your very eyes.
]

I… [A shake of his head as if staving off an unwelcome thought.] Well, there's that, then. What should we do?

c. Is he hot, or does he just go to therapy?
[Or, indeed, you do sit down and listen, and enraptured by the storytelling, Zag's eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, he does start at the rustling in the distance, at a distant howl or screech. ] Do you hear that?


2. Go big, always.
a. Unawaringly flashing a boob at the person on stage.
[Taken by something other than the River Styx is infinitely better. With a tug at his cheeks, Zagreus is unaware of his smile as he looks around; you might find him as he finds himself listening to music in the midst of a crowd, clapping at the end of each song, hollering if it's someone he knows on stage or if it's a particularly good song.]

b. Finally, some fucking good food.
[He wants to do everything, reaching for a table full of goodies and peering at the flasks and dishes in front of him. He starts with a cake, licking the frosting on his fingers and the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at how it tastes. He wants to try everything; even if a person like himself, born out of divinity, doesn't exactly need to eat as much as the regular person, but for sure, he wishes to experiment. Someone talks about 'Elysium,' and his metaphorical ears perk up, his mind only wondering what something named as such could taste like.]

Hello! Have you tried that? Do you know what it's made of? [He points at [Insert foodstuffs of choice here] with a curious gaze, wondering what it would taste like.]

c. The power of the hunt.
[Quickly, as though taken by some force, some sort of restlessness, idle feet seemed to gain root beneath him, and his legs worked to avoid it like the plague. Through the maze, a long leaf of a corn plant nicks him on his arm when he cuts a corner too close, but he feels the breath of something or someone after him, making his own hitch.

Lady Artemis would love this, he finds.

So he does look over his shoulder with a grin, feints to go one side only to go to another with a blur of red-orange ankles.

Or alternatively, he finds you in the middle of his run and slows to a stop to speak.
] You alright there? [Or even sees that you're being chased and grabs hold of a wrist to tug you along. 'Oh… Well, c'mon.']

d. My Chemical Romance song title goes here
[Sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, a bunch of snacks and drinks that he was offered in a bag by his side, Zagreus watches as people parade in different costumes, portraying things that seem familiar, clad in clothes that look absolutely foreign. Somehow, watching this, although the crinkle in his eye from the joy of these festivities remains, his mind isn't really quite there. He wonders what he's missed out on; the things he knows, the things he knows he doesn't know, and the things he doesn't know he knows. It's all so different, despite the context of familiarity — like the sky back home had no starlight. Only the surface.

He sighs and smiles when someone comes to join, standing or sitting beside him.
] This seems very fun; I wonder how long it took them to come up with these outfits.


3. 'Neath the black, the sky looks dead
[There's no toll of a bell that follows, and the dryness of the air that catches him in a chokehold teases him with the promise of a good friend around.

Yet, what he finds, despite how close the demeanor of the horserider is (Charon, Thanatos, and yet not, and it all feels like a joke that he can only grit his teeth at), the violence nears, and Zagreus steps in to pull someone out of the blade's way, spars it away but not with enough force that he doesn't get practically run over.

Rolling back to a stand, shaking his head from the black and white spots in his sight, he tries over and over to help those in the line of the attack, but the rider, unrelenting, goes through everyone. Surely, he's killed the dead over and over again, but these are just mere Shades; they aren't violent at all; they're living their afterlives as one would normally do.

'HYPOCRITE. SELFISH.' Head tilting back, he leans against a pillar. Shakes his head with stuttered, ragged breath. He runs his hand over his face to wipe the sweat (and the red) off.

He finds you, eventually. Either recovering or cleaning up. He's dead tired.
] You alright?


[ooc: Please let me know if you need any other prompt! Hit me up, and feel free to start a starter yourself in this thread; happy to go with everything.]
windsongs: (239)

you know which one

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-07 01:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ While Hibiki goes to anyone she finds who happens to be struggling after this ordeal, she keeps a closer eye out for people she knows. She shouldn't prioritize them, honestly tries not to, but she can't help it, something that her shadow lambasts her for in her mind. But she doesn't care; its voice doesn't have as much weight in this moment, and has a hard time breaking that laser focus of hers.

But she isn't without some injury, although incredibly minor in retrospective. Most of the red on her clothes and in her hair isn't hers, even if it's difficult to tell otherwise.

Perhaps Zagreus heard the chatter about a woman using her voice to try to comfort others, to varying degrees--or maybe not. But the moment she finds him leaned up against a pillar, looking like he's been put through Hell, Hibiki can't move fast enough. She quickly rushes toward him, the small satchel of medical supplies she got from one of the medics thrown over her shoulder. ]


Zagreus!

[ She can't quite tell how or if he's injured at this point, but she's going to assume the worst. ]
declass: (pic#15973936)

press f to pay respects

[personal profile] declass 2022-10-07 02:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ oh! what a nice looking young lady. rosa was concerned that the footsteps might be a monster of some kind, but no, it's another person. she relaxes slightly.

and then the girl speaks. i see. ]


A head start?

[ rosa doesn't move, really, but she at least is no longer relaxed. there's a wave back. ]
damnpire: (pic#12042644)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-07 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[An acknowledging hum, short, rumbles in his chest. It's oddly more pleased than he'd usually like for it to be, but she has joined him, and the food has made that a very grateful thing. He lets her wrist go, resting his hand on the edge of the hat on his chest.

There's a voice inside of him telling him to rip out her throat. There's another voice inside of him, too, old and croaking, wanting to know why the hell would he willingly eat or drink anything here.

Now isn't the time for experiments D! it's bemoaning. Tasty or not, I'm not gonna be the one--]


You're Lady Gilia. [It isn't a question despite having never seen her in person yet. His voice is quiet and so level it's stoic. His lashes lower a little over his eyes thoughtfully, and he's quiet for a long moment, then he says:] I can hear the sea.

[And other things, too. He can feel them through her.]

You should drink some of the tea. For your throat.