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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

[ He says her name and Lottie feels a tad more aware of how his cheeks shift beneath her palm when he smiles -- smiles like he didn't just scare the shit out of her. And stupidly, it makes her go blissfully quiet, the monkey part of her brain elated at the fact someone is happy to see her (what was that, though? He was acting, so unlike himself?? Maybe he just has more to him than Cute British Exhibitionist?). Her lips part, nodding every few moments to his explanation like she can't hear him in HD right now.

Right. Clothes. His clothes.. She doesn't even bother pretending like she didn't see the state of them, just going 'mhm' when she thinks he needs to hear it.

And now they're holding eye contact, because Lottie forgot to be normal and at least try and look away. She begins to squirm under his gaze, steadily growing uncomfortable.. Is her hair gross? Something in her teeth? A second later and she finds it's worse. He's asking if she's alright and for some reason it makes her jerk her hands from him. Lottie looks surprised by the action, too, because they still hover awkwardly in the air. A glance to her hands, then to him, and then a hand to her face.

She stares at him, seemingly debating on something. Some insane part of her is dying to tell him she's scared to fall asleep now in fear she'll choke and die on a flower. That she's scared of eating and drinking, even more scared of living. She hates being in her body more than ever, ]

No! Fine. I'm fine.. Just the weather, I think.

[ In the end, it doesn't come out. Her hands move to settle on the strap of her bag, her feet shifting their weight. ]

How far is, uh, your place? We can walk there, if that's cool with you?

[I fucking died at Cute British Exhibitionist.

The pull of the Styx had made him lightheaded, as though his blood had started to seep through his skin and onto the river itself. This, however, feels like a flood, the sense that he can't hold on to what his body has, too small, too full all at once. He brings a hand up to his mouth to clear his throat, trying to swallow down the petals that did manage to burst through into his mouth with a grimace, and he nods fiercely even though he can't really speak.

He smiles, and despite it being the weakest of them all so far, it's earnest. He now knows what Cool means in this world and Lottie's.]

Cool. Yes, it's cool with me. It's very close by, actually. [He tilts his head towards the outside, pushing the door open for her.] Shall we?

Edited 2022-11-10 09:52 (UTC)

[ AAAAAA USUSUSH in her Mind it's True

Cool. Cool! He said it's cool.. Alright. Lottie's going to see Zagreus' house for the first time, by circumstance, and she's a little less lethargic when the idea settles. She's still just as awkward, though -- ]

Cool.. Yeah. Cool! We shall.

[ Ughhhhh, who says that!! We shall??? She cringes inwardly at herself, nodding at him as she remembers she has to walk out the door to actually leave. So she gets her feet moving after a beat, making it through the open door (with her own smile thrown his way when she makes eye contact, only for a moment as she passes) and towards the streets. It's considerably louder outside, but she doesn't mind.

She still feels his skin on her palms, even when she should feel the crisp air first, and her hands tingle. The breath she exhales shakes, ]

Is it weird I'm kinda excited to see what your outfit is gonna look like..

[Thinking nothing of it—he says we shall a lot, Lottie, that's absolutely fine with him—he guides her outside, still holding the mug and sipping at it. The cold is pleasant, even wonderful, against his heated skin, and he can't help but sigh.

Small blessings that he's willing to count and keep, such as the smile in Lottie's eyes when she holds her gaze as she walks past.

He is surprised, however, when she mentions his outfit.] I don't think it's weird at all. But why are you excited?

[She'll be so disappointed to see that he only has a himation waiting for him at home.]

[ Because she's never seen him in jeans before? Or a shirt?? And she's terribly curious what both would look like??? ]

I don't know.. [ Clearly, by her tone, and the way her eyes hone in on his clothing (and distinctly tries to gloss over the darker stains littering it), she does. ] I've only ever seen you in stuff like this. Which is still stylish!! Obviously.

[ She reassures him as she follows behind him, trying to stay close and not stray too far. Both because she's not exactly familiar with this area, and also because she's still overthinking about the way he looked (looks, even now) when she first saw him. ]

Stylish? [Style and shape and cuts aren't just something Zagreus has in the forefront of his mind when he chooses clothes, though he enjoys red tones, knows they suit him, somehow. It happens that the colors of the House of Hades court were red and black, so he wears them easily.]

[He gives her a sheepish grimace, leading her to a house at the end of the pier that could be worse for wear but is, in fact, very comfy and warm inside.] I'm afraid you will be disappointed. What I have is also similar to this.

[He opens the door (it's unlocked. It's unlocked, but it's a wide step when considering his room back home had no door at all to begin with).] Here we are. Make yourself comfortable.

Edited (HTML PLEASE) 2022-11-11 17:08 (UTC)

[ It's unlocked..

It's unlocked? What the heck? Lottie stares at the door in a daze, even as she walks in past it. And then her attention is pulled to Zagreus, brows raising lightly. Make herself comfortable.. Alright. Huh.

She ends up casually (""casually"") leaning against a free piece of wall, a little too nervous to sit on anything immediately. Despite blatant security issues, this is his house! Where he lives and rests and exists!! It's equal parts crazy and interesting, in her eyes. Lottie wonders what her house would say to him, as she idly examines the woodwork of the floor and remembers the ocean lingers beneath them.

Her hands rub together before reaching down to her water bottle, screwing off the cap. ]

I like it. It's cute! How'd you get this place?

[It's

a big step, Lottie. It really is. The house is slightly Spartan — despite Zagreus' own origins — in style, and despite some messiness in a corner or two (maybe three), it doesn't look very lived in. The only quirk of it is a sort of comfy raised nook by the hearth.

Zagreus looks back before crouching by a wooden trunk. He removes a black fabric that doesn't look that different from the red one he's wearing. Usually, he layers them together if he's too cold or doesn't need to move around as much.

A good thing that it hasn't been the case, or he'd have nothing to wear.]

It was empty! I asked around and the people told me I could get it if I wanted it. [He shrugs as he stands up.] Not sure why I was the first.

[Maybe the fact that it looms precariously close to the water? Either way, he points at the only other room of the house with a door — a small bathroom, which, surprisingly, has a bath instead of a shower. ] I'll go change. It'll be only a bit.

Edited 2022-11-12 20:38 (UTC)

[ He turns back to look at her and Lottie jumps the slightest bit, feeling equal parts silly and surprised that he'd even done it by the time he drags that fabric out. And she realizes, well, he was right about one thing.. Lottie definitely is disappointed to see it's just another slab of ye olde™ fabric. Not enough to take away from her intrigue at being in Zagreus' house, the one that sounds like it might sink any day given the creak below them and the splash of waters against the beams.

She tries not to focus so much on that, but on how pleasantly warm it is inside here, how lovely it feels to inhale something welcoming into her abused lungs. Lottie wonders if he used that fireplace before leaving as a plausible reason as he makes himself scarce. But before he goes, she replies: ]

Okay!

[ He's only a bit, but by the time he leaves the restroom Lottie's bag is discarded on the nook by the hearth, the door slightly ajar — she's outside, leaned over the ledge of the pier and gargling some water. She doesn't quite catch it, can't really see from the slight fog of the water, but petals in pretty hues of pink and blue waft away in the waves. She roughly spits the water into the ocean, hopping in place and slapping her cheeks for color. ]

[At least the himation has sleeves, this time, so unfortunately for Lottie, no more nipple, but fortunately for Zagreus, he's a little more bundled up. He steps out of the bathroom to find no Lottie in sight, and for a moment, he thinks she's pulling a Thanatos and bursting out of the scene suddenly because they remembered something or it was too much and too soon.

He'd understand, really, but he's not even able to continue that thought when a full bloom of an almost-black rose bubbles through his throat and spills out of his mouth.

He bends at the waist, hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath. He follows through the door, and crouches, waiting for Lottie to notice he's there, eyes teary from the exertion and his lips painfully red.] You, too, then?

[ She hears the heaving before she forces herself to turn around, trying hard to block out the noise before she wretches. It works, for a few blissful moments. Enough for her to reach a hand out, shakily, ]

Zagreus..? What.. [ But she withdraws, a familiar dread seizing at her chest when she sees the blood coating his lips. ] Nope. Nope! Nope, nope, no, no —

[ Her eyes squeeze shut but it's too late, her brain happily at work reminding her that there's an association, a person, with that. The water bottle is dropped (in fact, it rolls off the edge into the water), and she's shrugging her jacket off and quickly tossing it over her head — the perfect curtain for when she lurches forward and claws at her throat. It's never quick, but she manages only a few wet hacks before the lilies land on the ground.

She meanders her way to force her forehead against the wall of his house, entirely to prepare herself for the next inhale of pollen rattling around in her chest. Lottie's body shakes and heaves at the coughs that follow, a strangled and wet: ]

Just a sec!

[ Leaving her lips, between it all. ]

[Well, he's at a loss there.

He's not entirely sure if she's embarrassed at being caught, at the fact that she doesn't exactly look picture-perfect as she always does, or if she's actually reacting to the flowers themselves.

So, he stays still, waiting. He waits patiently, looking out into the water to give his friend a sense of some privacy about her state, regardless that he can listen to everything anyway, no matter how muffling the jacket is. He clears his throat, more to ensure that he can speak clearly without again trying to hack an entire index of flora than to call her attention. His voice is somewhat quiet, anyway. Carefully concerned. Perfect by someone who tends to care a lot and is used to being rejected, anyway. ] Let me know if I can do anything to help, alright?

[ She is many of those things, but most of all: feeling disgusting. She gives one, two, hacks before spitting blood and phlegm onto the wood by her feet. Lottie's breathing becomes slow and gradually steady, but above all measured. It still hurts to inhale and swallow, but she's trying to make it work, tries to ignore how it burns and her eyes start to water in frustration. Her hands, now visible against the wall outside of the safety of her jacket, curl loosely into fists. ]

Zagreus, [ Lottie calls for him, for once not trying to sound like she doesn't need help. She is needy and letting him hear the full brunt of how it twists her voice, how it trembles slightly, ] m-my bag?

It's, inside? Get the little.. Things. [ Vials. ] And m'handkerchief.. Please.

[He's so, so fast, even though he's also coughing out two bleeding lungs like they've been chainsmoking since they were five. And to his detriment, as he's still coughing when he stretches the bag at her, he knows better than to look into a lady's bag and hoping Lottie can relinquish the grasp on her jacket to get her things.]

Here. [He bows his head, tries to look away as he clears his throat.]

[ The face mask resting at her chin is ripped away and used as a napkin, once the jacket comes off — the blood coating her lip is smeared, but she's looking marginally better than she did before. And, as it turns out, better than Zagreus. The one second she takes to flick her eyes up at him, right when she grabs her bag, makes the pain seizing her chest all the worse.

This time, she doesn't see or think of anyone else when she realizes how red his blood is. She sees Zagreus, staining his new shirt and chest rattling, still giving her the courtesy to clean herself up. Unbearably thoughtful even with blood staining his face. Zagreus, who still indulges in her requests, looking like this. She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut as she shoves a hand into her bag, feels like she might scream because this sucks. Bad things shouldn't happen to good people.

She approaches him, stopping only when her hand finds his shoulder, digits pressing firm into him with barely restrained urgency. She croaks out, ]

Look at me.

[ The other hand holds firm around those same vials she wanted, hovering tense by her side. ]

How bad does it hurt? 1 to 10? How bad?

[He starts at the touch on his shoulder, blinking at her. There's a slight prickle behind his eyes that comes from all the exertion, but he does look at Lottie curiously.] What are you—

[Oh. That's something he has never been asked to scale before. He's so used to being in pain, even having learned to appreciate some of the less harsh stings, that it never really occurred to him to scale the several levels of it.

So, he's baffled, his brow twisting.] Why— I mean, I suppose a 5? I'm not sure, why?

I don't know!

[ Truthfully? It just seemed like the quickest, easiest, way to determine whether he should take both vials or not. She's not sure why she feels so embarrassed when he asks her why, but she knows exactly where the onslaught of surprise comes from. He's.. Not sure?

Lottie opens her mouth to talk, but nothing quite forms yet. A 5 doesn't sound terrible.. Maybe she's just being dramatic? Drama induced flower vomiting? ]

You're.. Maybe a 5? Really??

[Reaching slowly to rest his hand on her shoulder, he gives it a light squeeze just to convey some reassurance. He clears his throat once, twice. He can tell that Lottie feels a bit lost at all of this, perhaps even more than he does.]

Should we get inside? Maybe it's best. Lest those concoctions roll into the water as well.

[ She withdraws her own hand, once she realizes they're both just Two Guys™ holding each other's shoulders for extended periods of time. And while that squeeze is somewhat reassuring, she's.. Upset? Miffed? Frustrated?? Feels like dissociating a little??? ]

My almost La Croix..? No..

[ And apparently: devastated. Truly the straw that broke the camels back... ]

..Maybe it's best, yeah. Going inside.. I'll meet you in there, I'm gonna [ A pause, wondering how to phrase this delicately, ] clean up my stuff off your porch.

[He really wishes he knew what an 'almost La Croix' is, and if he could get another for her. As is, it went into the dark depth of the water below them, but he's determined to investigate.

Another squeeze, gentler this time, and he tips his head.] It's alright. You don't have to, Lottie. It'll rain soon, I believe. Let's head inside.

..Fine.

[ There is neither bite, nor bark, in her words. Being told to ignore what she wants to do tends to prompt Lottie into bratty behavior, but she's a bit too tired to indulge in it. And Zagreus is a bit too nice for her to be mean, especially when she's still worried about him, too (after all, how many times has he asked her to come inside? And only now does she consider?). So she huffs quietly, lets his touch linger for a moment as she gathers her things and heads inside.

She doesn't mean to pout while she does it, but it sure is a sight: Lottie planting her butt near his hearth. And then promptly flopping over onto her side, heaving a big fat sigh. ]

[Zagreus pads into the house, and while he says nothing, Lottie will feel a patchwork blanket being draped over her for comfort. It's not very thick, just heavy enough to offer some comfort more than heat — the hearth is good enough for that.]

I'll get some water. [If his voice is generally soft-spoken, now even more so, to not strain his throat.] Will get some for myself, as well, so please don't worry about it.

Edited 2022-11-29 15:34 (UTC)

[ His blanket feels tender and soft on her, and while she may be on the verge of sulking, she still takes it. Puts her hands on the edges and curls it tighter around her, tucking her head in enough to only expose her eyes and brows. She watches him, thinking so painfully hard that he might be able to feel it mingling with the heat she huddles by.

But instead of saying anything, Lottie gives a big nod. Bigger and sillier looking than usual, considering she's now living inside this blanket. ]

[With somewhat practiced ease, which Zagreus would be glad to explain if Lottie does notice on it, he comes back with a clay pitcher and two glass cups, filled with fresh water. He coughs lightly into the crook of his elbow, with his hands busy, but he manages to sit down by the hearth next to Lottie, where a cushion is.

He pours the water into the glasses and hands one to her.] I take it you're also afflicted by all of this? Or is it something different?

[ The cough only serves to make her frown, but this time it's a secret all to herself. He moves so fluidly, so unlike how she is whenever she has these fits, that she simply takes the glass without a comment. It's held in her hand, but she doesn't move to sit up and drink it yet, even though she wants to.

'You're the only other person I know who has it as bad as me,' she wants to say. 'I'm sorry' is another, yet neither teeter out. She stares up at him, ]

If you're talking about the flower thing.. Then yes! I am.. Nothing else. [ A beat. ] Does that happen often?

[ The flowers, she means. ]