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INHUMAN COURTESY

I. PUSHING UP DAISIES

cw: depiction of hanahaki, mention of blood, mild body horror

The Frightful Harvest ended on a bloody, eerie note, but the Respite's most welcome interlude has proven exceptionally fruitful. The sky's darkened again, moons struggling to glow through turbulent clouds, but crops all over Stygia have grown dense and healthy, herbs and plants and flowers aplenty. Normally, it'd be a time to rejoice, even as sleet pours and winds grow bitterly cold -- and it might have been, had greens and stems and petals NOT elected to blossom inside you. Your lungs, specifically.

It's an uncommon side effect of the Harvest, affecting those who foster affection or attraction towards another, triggered only by a stray thought. Almost as if punished by Oblivium for harboring any kind of positive feelings. The worst part is that the object of your desire doesn't even have to be in the Netherworld for you to be afflicted. Over the span of three months, you'll gradually experience various degrees of the "harvest's curse", depending on the source of your feelings:

► PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ATTRACTION & REQUITED LOVE
It starts with an itch. Your throat tickles, an odd sensation in your lungs, slightly constricted. Allergies? Not quite. It worsens overtime, and days pass by, perhaps weeks. You cough, a little more every day, a little deeper, and then it happens: petals, stuck to your lips as you wheeze and try to empty your chest. Marigold, carnations, daisies, peonies... Thankfully, for you, it's more of an annoyance, sporadic at best and leaving you exhausted at times, but you're in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, not all Restless share the same luck.

► UNREQUITED LOVE
It doesn't matter whether it is truly unrequited; as long as you think it is, whether you're fully convinced or distantly resigned, you get the whole package. It starts the same way the lesser variation does, gradual, and with unsavory (!) additions: lilies and dark red roses. The first slowly spreads its poison in your body, inducing fevers, skin rashes, blistering in your mouth and stomach aches. The second pricks your throat bloody, making speech difficult and breathing even more so. It spreads throughout Stygia, and if most wound up meeting their end in the past, some speak of a highly hypothetical cure. It's believed that if the object of your affection confesses equally strong feelings for you, the curse should rapidly subside. If this option isn't viable, Doran promises that all Healers in Hale are working extremely hard to find a solution. In the meantime, symptoms can be partially soothed with poultices and spells that you can find in the Marketplace or in Serene. Some merchants might even take pity on you and offer them for free.

if your character has heard of similar diseases in their home world, they're absolutely welcome to share their insight on the netherwork or anywhere else
the evolution of the disease can be as gradual, as fast or as severe as you wish it to be
a mini quest to retrieve ingredients for a cure will be available in december or january
by february, all characters should be cured

II. DO NOT PASS GO

cw: mention of blood, torture, branding, violence, forced captivity

Full-swing investigations concerning the Harvest's murders have begun, though the mysterious rider has yet to resurface. The day is young still, but no matter; the Hierarchy firmly believes that the creature was summoned by a group of renegades, fully intent on finding and dismembering the organization. Perhaps even literally.

If you've spilled blood not your own in the previous event, the Hierarchy finds you. Do they know? It doesn't really matter; they've targeted you for reasons they won't divulge, persuaded of your involvement -- and off to the Gallows you go. Each of you receives the same greeting when you arrive, held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with the letter F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’, and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the Hierarchy's hospitality. Writhe and scream and glower as much as you want; next thing you know, something heavy hits you across the head, and you collapse.

When your vision slowly creeps back, your eyes adjust to a dimly lit stone cell. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain, and you lie in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. It's dark; the air is bloated and filled with agonizing shrieks. Dead vines scrap the walls of half-crumbled buildings, weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by withered clumps of grass. You may converse with your cellmates: the guards patrolling the Gallows couldn't care less, convinced that no one could possibly escape anyway.

► Ironically, a magical barrier around the Gallows prevents magical/spiritual abilities from functioning. However, characters who roam free still can absolutely sneak in! Be careful not to get caught, though!
► Loud disagreements might attract unwanted attention. A single guard will come, and if he finds nothing else amiss, will threaten them to be quiet. A second violation earns the offender a rap on their bare feet with a club. A third violation will cause the offender to be gagged. Note that in order to beat or gag the offender, the guard must first open the cell.
► If you share affinities with Gargoyles, incapacitating a guard in any way will draw the attention of one. It'll show you to the gates where you'll be able to escape, taking care of sentries on your way. You should probably keep a low-profile from then on, and avoid showing-off your brand.
► A secret passage may be found through a mausoleum nearby; an arrow of flaking red paint marks the entrance. Or is it blood? Inside, it's nearly pitch-black. Perhaps, if you're lucky, your vision extends as far as 30 feet in front of you, but occasionally, the darkness is broken by clinging phosphorescent fungi or crawling luminescent creatures, and from out of the silence echo sounds of dripping water. You're underground, and Abysmals can be encountered here if you're too loud. You should also watch out for cave-ins, but as you get farther away from the general region of the Gallows, your magical abilities gradually come back.
► Eventually, a long, broken staircase will lead you to Hale. If you're injured, you'll be sent to the main infirmary; characters with healing abilities or knowledge are super welcome to help!

Luckily for you, there are so many prisoners it's a difficult task for the Hierarchy to always keep track of all of them. Your brand, however, is a dead giveaway, so you might as well try and find a way to get rid of it; you might hear through the grapevines that the dead skin of Badaliscus can be used as bandages, and overtime, the brand will fully heal and disappear.

III. TO THE RESCUE

As you attempt to escape, or perhaps once you’ve successfully snuck in, you come across a terrifying spectacle: in front of you, impaled through the shoulder by a spear, a weary humanoid figure covered in blood. The body is being restrained by additional shackles on each arm and leg, which are linked to chains anchored within the walls. There's a guard nearby, armed to the teeth… and still you decide to free them.

The guard’s magic is just as useless as yours, and while impressive in size, dexterity definitely isn’t his main strength. He hits hard — with brass knuckles, a chain mace, and a sturdy shield — and his stamina almost seems endless, but it’s not. Keep evading, and he’ll eventually tire enough to topple over. It’s also possible to have him chase you around if you don’t go too far, which would allow someone else to grab the spear. Once he’s too exhausted to go on, you can either kill him or chain him to the wall. The keys are in his boots, and you’ll find a bottle of water as well as a small vial of ointment in a satchel on the ground, where he previously stood.

The prisoner is a young man, perhaps in his mid-20s. Once freed from his shackles, he immediately keels over, though he’s not unconscious. He thanks you with a deep and raw voice, begging for water. You can tend to his wounds if you’re able—the ointment quickly soothes—and when he finally stands again, he asks you a question: “I’m a stranger to you, and you could have died. Yet, you chose to free me, unaware of my past. Of my crimes. Of my virtues. Why?”

Regardless of your answer, he smiles, a private understanding that turns the stretch of his lips enigmatic. There’s a bubbling chuckle in his throat, very hoarse, and then he hisses, touching where you’ve helped him apply the ointment on his body. “You know what they say. If it stings...” He looks at you, deliberately pausing there and staring bold into your eyes. “... then it must be working.”

It might feel like there’s more to what he’s trying to say, though it’s pointless to ask: he bows, and then he slowly inches away from you. “Until we meet again.” White and thick tendrils of smoke envelop him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and then just like that, he’s gone.

so you’ve chosen to free him, which in turn has generated a future plot point that’ll occur some time in february. some of you WILL see him again.
what he says to you is a clue.
you can answer his question OOCly right here. it’ll have some bearing on the way your character will be approached re: future plot point.
if you've voted no and would still like to participate, you could always allow your character to be convinced or reluctantly dragged by another!

ooc note

► As always, check out the Notice Board if you'd like additional prompts! Older quests from previous months are always available as well. You'll also find the Calendar right here.
► You'll find already answered questions just here, and if you'd like to ask new ones, ask them here!
► For fun's sake and similarly to the puck adventure, you may play it out in different groups or on your own, and still obtain the same results as everyone else whether your characters threaded together!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 'Do I seem like someone who's planning on acting rashly.' It's almost worthy of laughter. ]

Obviously the answer is yes. And you have a history of exactly that, Kurosaki. I am telling you once and only once that you need to keep any sudden urge you may have to protect anyone else at bay for the duration. You have no soul reaper abilities here. Your responsibility is to yourself and only yourself.

[ He meets the eyes a little ways away from his own in the dim half-light of the sconce outside of the cell and stares into the warm brown irises with severity. ]

Do you understand me?

I don't give a shit what you think my responsibilities are.

（ he's already proven that he has no idea what motivates humans, what drives them, what they care for. as far as saving others... that's not an irrational act as far as he's concerned. ）

Protecting people is part of who I am. If you don't want to deal with that, you can go your separate way once we're out of here. I don't need to rely on my powers to fight.

Once we're out of here. You won't escape if you double back to help others in a situation like this.

[ Would he do the same, were it another quincy? Without question. But these people aren't, and he owes them no loyalty, is bound to them by no duty. They're strangers and humans. ]

If you stop before we get out, the guards will catch up to you, and there very well may be too many for you to overpower.

[ His responses aren't encouraging—it very much seems like the kid's already resolved to do exactly the opposite of what he should be doing before he even knows if there's even anyone there to help. This does not bode particularly well, though Jugram is, at least, confident that he can proceed on his own once the initial barrier of the locked cell door has been taken care of. If Kurosaki wants to die or get beaten, that's his prerogative. ]

I meant the cell, genius.

（ that's his metric for 'out of here'. his intention is to go the other direction just as soon as they can open the door. ）

So? If they overpower me, the worst they can do is torture and kill me. As threats go, that's pretty anemic these days.

（ his stance on that has been tested, again and again and again. how many times since becoming a shinigami would it have simply been easier to look the other way? to let things happen, to leave? he'll never be that person who doesn't care. ）

[ That's enough to spark the tiniest flame of rage, something just beyond the baseline of annoyance that's quickly established itself as the norm for interactions with this kid. It's a privilege, being so flippant about torture, the kind of idiotic bravado that can only come from ignorance. He thinks, of course—as any quincy would—of Kurotsuchi, watching with no ability to intervene: the screaming and sobbing and vomiting of the victims, the vivisections, the children burned alive. The mothers wailing. The ones who stood before the burnt bodies of their children and begged him to kill them too. ]

[ Jugram, of course, says none of this. Only a simple: ] Pray you're never tortured, Kurosaki.

[ All he says on the matter. He turns, flaxen hair swaying with the movement, and regards the dim corridor ahead of them. ]

A medical emergency would force them to open the cell door.

You're missing my point. It's still better than leaving everyone else to their fate here.

（ it's not like he wants to be tortured, and he isn't ignorant of what it entails, but if it's down to someone else or him, he'd pick himself every time. maybe he'd regret it when he's under the knife, but he likes to think his resolve would hold at least that long. ）

If they're keeping us here for an execution, they won't give a shit about a medical emergency. They might care about a fight, though.

（ a fight might undercut their supposed authority. a medical emergency would just be one less person to execute. ）

Very well. When they come, we'll need to lure the guard deeper into the cell. The fight needs to take place against the back wall. [ Jugram pauses for a moment, in thought, then adds: ] ...The guard probably carries a key to our manacles. We won't get far without it.

[ Not only will the chain hobble them, but it also carries the risk of drawing more attention by generating noise from dragging on the ground. It'd be a delicate balancing act to maintain enough tension on the line to keep it above the floor while still moving forward, and certainly not the kind of thing one can do while focusing on a situation like escaping. ]

Fine.

（ he rubs consideringly at his jaw, and then gestures jugram closer. getting beaten up for the greater good is something he's all too familiar with, but he can't deny it'll suck more than usual without his shinigami powers. ）

Hit me and yell some stuff in German. It won't translate for them, it'll probably catch their attention faster. （ a notable pause. ） What's your name, anyway? I just know you as 'Balance' or whatever.

[ Jugram's never been one to release his emotions through violence—unlike some close associates—but there's no doubt that it'll be satisfying to get a few strikes in. He makes a quiet sound of agreement and nothing more, then answers simply: ]

Jugram Haschwalth.

[ He doesn't spend any more time on the introduction—just regards Kurosaki for a brief moment, then throws a punch that connects satisfyingly with the kid's jaw, the hard ridges of sharp knuckles catching the flesh of the masseter beneath them. He raises his voice until it reverberates off of the wet stone walls of the prison, certainly enough for a guard to take note— ]

« You'll learn to respect His Majesty if it kills you, Kurosaki! You're an entitled child. » [ It's more convincing, easier to maintain a natural inflection, if it's things he means. ] « Be grateful you were killed swiftly! »

（ which of those is the surname? he has no idea, so he's just going to call the guy jugram because of course he is, ichigo has none manners left beef so like, that's just what we're doin' here.

but he doesn't exactly have time to clarify anyway, because the guy takes a swing at him. instinct is to dodge it, and he has to stop himself from flinching out of the way. ichigo doesn't actually like pain, for all he's learned to stand it. he does sort of raise his hands as if to ward off a followup blow, but in contravention to much of his life, he doesn't fight back.

and then he's off and hollering whatever it is he's shouting about in german (the language just sounds angry, okay?) and eventually, it's enough that one of the guards comes to bang his nightstick on the bars. ）

Hey! Keep it down in there.

（ ichigo, who's let himself slump backwards into a wall, makes a panicked little choke and yelps out, ）

Can't you see this asshole's trying to kill me! Get him out of here!

[ Another strike, this time a bony elbow directly to the center of Kurosaki's ribcage—albeit mindful of the fact that he'll need to be upright and moving to continue assisting with the escape. ]

« You were never a match for His Majesty! It was laughable that you thought you were! »

[ The guard bangs on the cell bars again, louder and more persistent this time; he continues on with the berating.

I said break it up!

And then the guard unlocks the door—Jugram keeps an eye on where, exactly, he returns the key to—and steps forward to beat him across the foot with his truncheon. He feigns a sudden gasp of pain as the cold metal strikes his bare skin, then turns just as quickly and knees the man in the groin, followed by a hard punch to the gut.

In Japanese he doubts the man understands: ]

Take the key. His back pocket.

Edited 2022-11-13 22:25 (UTC)

（ okay, next time he's telling you the solar plexus is off limits, asshole. but he does get up, staggering just slightly to duck around behind the man. he's not shy about manhandling him, instead putting him in a chokehold with one arm while the second fumbles for the keys.

things he feels zero bad about: the bitch of a headache this guy's going to have later.

the key ring gets tossed to jugram, and ichigo pulls his second hand up to brace his right arm so he can just press in against the guy's arteries with more leverage. ）

Oy, Jugo — get yourself free first and we'll put him in your chains.

（ unconscious, preferably. ）

[ 'Jugo.' He knows it's not an uncommon diminutive, but the sudden leap in familiarity from this kid, the enemy, makes his hackles rise. It's a perfect example of his usual presumptuousness, his arrogance and lack of respect. It also stirs up a litany of unpleasant feelings by association, the still cooling memory of his last conversation with one of two people who ever called him that—

The human's knees buckle and his heavy body falls forward against Kurosaki's. Jugram turns his attention to the heavy chains on his ankles—incredibly pitiful beings, able to lose consciousness that rapidly. The third key in the rapid succession of attempts proves to be the right one; he briskly removes the manacles from his own ankles and holds them out. ]

Don't call me that.

Edited 2022-11-14 15:53 (UTC)

（ as he swipes those keys and sets about getting himself free — ）

I'm not going to remember your entire dumb name.

（ ... literally, he just isn't assed to care. an absolute delinquent.

the moment his chains fall away, he's stooping to slap the guard in chains. frankly? doesn't feel bad about it even a little. ）

[ It's remarkable, how arrogant and disrespectful this kid is. Jugram huffs. ]

Then address me as Grandmaster like your shinigami friends. Not "Jugo."

[ He watches with vague indifference as Kurosaki wastes his time slapping a man who's already unconscious, holding out his hand to take the keyring. The guard had locked the cell door behind himself before he came to break up the fight. ]

Edited 2022-11-15 18:11 (UTC)

I didn't even call old man Yamamoto by his real title, what makes you think I'd give a crap about yours?

（ zero chill, zero manners. deal with it. once the guy's locked up, he turns back to the door and watches as jugo gets it open. they're working together, but that doesn't mean ichigo trusts him without reservation. the guy could just as easily leave him here after he gets out, and he's not really interested in that fallout. ）

[ The lock sticks—it takes a little bit of effort to wrench the rusted key through, but finally, it opens. Jugram pauses, then doubles back and grabs the truncheon off the man's belt before sliding open the heavy iron door to their enclosure. It's not a sword, but it's still better than nothing. ]

Take the keys if you wish. This is where our paths diverge.

[ Thankfully. Someone with Kurosaki's personality is more of a liability than an asset in a situation like this. ]

Fine.

（ he takes the keys without preamble, and doesn't even bother with a farewell. whatever direction jugo's going in, he's going the opposite way. ）

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cw discussion of canon torture/immolation/child death

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