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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!

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I. Do not Pass Go (cw: sensory deprivation, possible violence)

A.) Capture

[It wasn’t the first time Arrakis had been hunted for reasons he didn’t understand. It had led to his death last time and he resisted when the Hierarchy came for him. His gentle disposition was shattered as he conjured a violent gale around him, cutting anyone who dared to get close. His eyes brightly glowed and he disappeared under his panic and rage as he embraced his inhuman mage side. The debris caught inside his vicious wind faintly illuminated the shape of a dragon, its mouth open wide in a silent growl that sounded like the howling wind. It didn’t matter who approached him, everyone was met with the same unforgiving wind. His normally friendly voice sharpened with a venomous threat as his shadow took center stage.]

G̴e̷t̵ ̴B̴a̴c̵k̸!̸

B.) Gallows (cw: hanahaki symptoms, possible magic poisoning)

[As soon as he stepped foot inside the gallows Arrakis was cut off from his magic. The bright glow from his eyes faded as his consciousness was forced back inside his human body. Unfortunately regaining his senses made the brand burn more and his agonized scream earned him a heavy hit over the head.

The screams woke him up. He winced as the movement from sitting up agitated the brand on his arm. His eyes narrowed at the ugly burn and a spark of anger shone through his groggy expression. His eyes were adjusting to the dim light quicker than he expected, although he wouldn’t call that a good thing. It just made his grim situation feel more real and he pulled his legs closer to himself as he tried to ignore the loud clinking of the chain his feet were tethered to. He didn’t feel like pretending everything was going to be fine so he ignored his cellmate. He kept an eye on the guard as he discreetly pulled on the chain. He stopped when the guard came close again. After a few tries, he rested his head against his knees with a sigh. So much for that plan. Even with his wind magic he couldn’t cut through metal.

A fit of coughing interrupted his thoughts and a few bloody black rose petals slipped past his hand that covered his mouth. Oh yeah, he almost forgot about the flowers. As if being wrongfully imprisoned wasn’t enough, he felt like he had a fever. His eyes widened in panic. Wait, he was hot? He should be cold without his magic, not hot. Hot meant he had too much magic, which would get ugly fast and he frantically turned to his cellmate.]

H-hey!

[His throat stung and it was hard to get the words out.]

How...ah...

[Each word felt like a herculean effort but he desperately pushed through it, his breathing becoming more ragged with each breath and he tried to race through the words.]

How long have I been out?

[It seemed that he pushed his poor throat too much and he erupted in another fit of coughing. He closed his eyes against the pain as a few fragile crystal petals shattered on the ground.]

C.) Rescue (cw: possible hanahaki symptoms, lmk if you prefer the thread without them)

[Arrakis wasn’t in good shape. He wasn’t in any position to save anyone. He knew that, which is why he didn’t play the hero and he let the other prisoners save themselves if they could. But this one was different and he stood frozen with indecision at the terrible spectacle in front of him. He shouldn’t get involved. He had already made an enemy of the Hierarchy. He didn’t want more trouble but the haunting memory of his death compelled him to act. He couldn’t leave anyone to die alone as he did.

Arrakis couldn’t use his magic but he was still a skilled fighter and he nimbly dodged the guard’s attacks. The plan was simple, tire out the guard, except he was fading faster than the guard. His head swam and he clumsily sidestepped a little too late when the guard swung his mace. He might need some help.]

II. Lost Gryphon

[As soon as Arrakis escaped he looked for somewhere he could hide. He was a wanted criminal, and he couldn’t risk dragging Hibiki or Zach into trouble. He would have to deal with his transformation alone this time. A faint breeze followed him as he searched. He slipped into an abandoned house just as the wind turned into a strong gale. The walls creaked under the fierce wind before everything went quiet.

A small white gryphon about the size of a housecat peeked cautiously out the window before hesitantly taking to the skies. He avoided people at first. He flew away whenever anyone got too close but running away was too lonely and he kept coming back. His tail curled defensively around him as he hid in a nearby tree and watched people go by. The fur on his front leg was burnt in the familiar f shape, like so many others who supposedly had forsaken the Hierarchy’s hospitality. Hopefully the wrong people don’t notice.]

III. Pushing up daisies (cw: hanahaki symptoms)

A.)

[It had been a few days since Arrakis had escaped. He hid his brand under a dark long-sleeved shirt and tried to act like nothing was wrong. There was a slight tension in his usual sunny disposition, but he did his best to push past the shadow that loomed over him. He wasn’t the only one who could use a bit of joy after all. Being annoyingly cheerful was what he was good at and he happily chatted with everyone he came across. He was a bit quieter though and he let the other person lead the conversation since talking was a bit painful with flowers in your throat. He didn’t want to let anyone know how bad it had gotten so he discreetly turned to the side to stifle a cough. He sneakily summoned a tiny gust of wind to quickly get rid of the bloody petals, nothing to see here, before he turned to his companion with a polite smile.]

Sorry, there was something in my throat. I didn’t catch that last part.

B.)

[As the flowers got worse, it became harder to keep his symptoms a secret. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to himself so he spent most of his time on rooftops where he wouldn’t trouble anyone. He stifled another cough and looked sadly at the broken crystalline petals in his hand.]

Althiyan flowers aren’t fair.

IV. Wildcard

[Feel free to make your own starter if you want something different! You can plot with me on plurk

Nicholaj, Discord@Nicholaj#7374, or pm, whichever is easier for you.]

[ After a while, the strange sickness that's going around is not so mysterious anymore, and Tartaglia can tell the difference between an innocent cough versus one that's caused by a floral restriction in your throat. He raises an eyebrow when Arrakis turns away from him, arms slowly crossing over his chest.

Sure, he might have a one-track mind sometimes, but that doesn't mean he's blind to what's obviously happening here. He was asking the other man about his magic that he'd witnessed in the Gallows, and was eventually planning to ask for a spar, but maybe that'll have to wait. ]

Shouldn't you be resting?

[Arrakis smile grew a bit strained with Tartaglia's observation for a brief second before it quickly softened with a reassuring smile.]

Ah, it's not that bad really.

[And the last thing he wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts right now. The timing for his cough was a blessing in disguise, albeit an unpleasant one. His magic wasn't an easy subject for him, especially the terrifying display he showed at the Gallows. He wished he never lost control like that. He just gave everyone more reason to fear him.]

[ It's not that bad, they always say. Tartaglia has heard that excuse so many times that it's getting tiring. He tilts his head and gives Arrakis a Look that simply says, really? Because he doesn't believe him at all. ]

Sure, and you're not about to cough again. Is it the same thing that's been going around? With the flowers?

[Arrakis had hid behind that excuse for most of his life. It had become second nature to keep his problems to himself and his initial thought was to deflect more but there was also something refreshing about Tartaglia not buying his lie and he hesitated. Instead he returned Tartaglia's doubtful look with a playfully innocent smile as he casually laced his hands behind his head with a musical hum.]

Maybe I won't.

[He probably wouldn't have another coughing fit right away.]

And for the sake of argument, if it was the flowers, which I'm not saying it is, there's not much I can do about it.

[That was a lot of talking with a sore, flower infested throat and he cleverly hid the way he had to take breaks with dramatic emphasis. See, he's perfectly fine, maybe a bit out of breath but just a little.]

[ It's pretty obvious that Tartaglia doesn't believe a single word that Arrakis tells him, but it's not like they know one another all that well, so it isn't really any of his business whether or not this guy decides to deal with the illness on his own. Whatever. He'll drop the subject if that's what is expected of him. ]

Yeah, alright. [ There's so much doubt here. But fine. ] Anyway, I was asking you about your magic— what you did back there at the Gallows. Can you do it again?

[ Maybe it'll be a nice distraction from the hanahaki disease too. ]

[Arrakis's heart sank a little when Tartaglia just dropped it like that and his doubt stung. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed back so much. He really did appreciate that Tartaglia was worried about him and he glanced to the side with a nervous chuckle as he considered how to answer his question truthfully instead of running away this time.]

Oh that.

[His eyes faintly glowed as his magic resonated with the memories of his capture. The smells and sounds around him grew quieter as his consciousness threatened to switch to the invisible magical aura outside his body. Noticing the change Arrakis quickly closed his eyes to hide the glow as he pulled his consciousness back into his body with a memory of when he was human. He turned back to Tartaglia with a confident smile before he could get curious.]

Sure I can!

[He hesitantly shaped the invisible magic around him into an invisible wisp of wind in the shape of a dragon. He then wrapped the gentle breeze around himself and Tartaglia. Despite his conflicted feelings about his magic, he truly loved the wind and it was easier to pretend like this.]

I'm the-

[He quickly corrected himself.]

an air mage after all.

[ Given how abruptly Arrakis cut himself off, Tartaglia wonders if there's a title he'd rather not be addressed as. Curiouser and curiouser... but at least the man acquiesces and shows him his magic, enveloping them both in a gentle breeze. The dragon-shaped wisp is pretty impressive too. ]

Is that the only element you can wield?

[ Arrakis referred to him as an air mage, but it can't hurt to be sure. Might as well find out if he's capable of other things before he asks for a spar...

Just in case. ]

[It was less that he didn't like his title and more that he wasn't used to there being more air mages than him here. Although certain truths may have made his title lose it's special shine he still was proud to be the air mage and he didn't want to hide it. Arrakis watched Tartaglia's expression carefully. He wasn't sure why he was interested in his magic and while he hoped it was harmless curiosity past experiences made him wary, especially with his imprisonment still fresh in his mind.

Tartaglia's question distracted him from his suspicion and he blinked in surprise with a curious tilt of his head.]

Yeah?

[Wasn't that obvious? Mages could only wield their chosen element back home and there was a slight dance in his step as his curiosity pushed back his worries.]

Do people wield more than one element where you're from?

Not really— well, not officially, anyway. Most people can't wield any elements at all, but for the ones who do, it's just one. If you're a Harbinger like me, then you can wield two.

[ Is he going to explain how that works? Maybe, if asked, but he figures that's enough of an answer for now. ]

Can you use your magic to fly?

⟪ shiro’s reason for roof climbs is as obvious as it is simple: stars. the guaranteed solitude is a bonus… or was, anyway, rooftop occupied by someone he can’t quite discern. the netherworld really does favor its dark and its shadows; even with two moons, it takes him a moment to see the figure shrouded in darkness, though he does hear them. ⟫

Althiyan? ⟪ native to this place, maybe, and he clears his throat as he approaches, a faint apologetic smile stretching his lips. ⟫ Do you mean fair as in “just”, or fair as in… “pretty”? ⟪ perhaps as something else entirely? ⟫

[Arrakis's eyes suddenly glowed with a bright light blue glow as his magic resonated with his flicker of panic when he turned to Shiro. He quickly looked away to his hide the fact he was sick and he gently closed his hand over the precious crystal petals. His promise to keep Althiya's memory alive stopped him from running away this time. His fist tightened slightly before he slowly turned back to Shiro and looked down at the broken petals in his hand with a sad smile.]

Fair as in just. Althiya was my home.

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Arrakis Faylare | Original Character

iii-a.

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(just a safe cw for the hanahaki curse throughout this thread)

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sorry I'm late

you're fine!

thanks for being so patient!

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III. b

sorry I'm late