oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-11-09 09:42 pm

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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!

fallingsand: (80;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-11-15 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ That Joel has trouble standing straight at all has Bruno taking another step, two more, three, and then crossing the short distance between them. He reaches out to try and help steady him. It may be an unwelcome intrusion into the man's personal space, but worry overwhelms common sense this time around. ]

Hey, don't. Don't push yourself too hard. If you're... [ Sick but he won't say it. Instead, he says, ] Tired, my place isn't too far off. It'd be safer to rest there.
healthkit: (pic#15946351)

[personal profile] healthkit 2022-11-18 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ And yes, it's instinct for Joel to tense up, lifting a hand as though to push Bruno back and keep the distance between them, but ... he doesn't. Or he tries, and relents almost as quickly, some of his weight leaning into the other man's — because while he might be determined to tough a situation out like this on his own, he ain't stupid enough to refuse help when it's right in front of him, to be left coughing up his goddamned lungs in the middle of a rocky wasteland.

Speaking of rocky wasteland ... ]


The hell are you doin' livin' in a place like this?

[ It's not exactly a 'please, and thank you' in so many words, but the meaning is there if you squint a little. ]
fallingsand: (55;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-11-18 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's some small relief that Joel at least accepts the help, regardless of how begrudgingly it might be. Although Bruno is a small guy, he'll do his best to support the weight that does get leaned on him and then turn them towards where his little abandoned chapel home is.

It'll be slow going for Joel's sake but at least they're moving.
]

Oh, you know, just kind of kept wandering until I ran into a place that seemed secure enough, I guess? I... I've never been to a city before and Stygia was a lot to try and get used to all at once.
healthkit: (pic#15946330)

[personal profile] healthkit 2022-11-20 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ The slow-going's fine as far as he's concerned. Joel's no self-sacrificial lamb or anything, but he isn't stone-cold either. He's clearly the weaker of the two right now, and if something popped out past the cliff-side to attack, he's even sure he might have one last fight left in him, enough to let Bruno get away if he had to.

He just hopes that scenario doesn't come to pass. He's too tired for that. ]


Yeah. [ His voice teeters between soft and a little gruff, and he pauses once to let out an admittedly disgusting cough. ] Funny enough, I can understand that.

[ Maybe once upon a time he could have been more of a city dweller, but even before the outbreak he'd made his home surrounded by vast amounts of land. He liked the space and he liked the privacy, and cities were a lot to get used to. The QZs he'd migrated between might have been a cluster of densely crowded buildings, but even they had less than half of the normal population too. It seemed less overwhelming that way.

And they'd had other problems. ]


S'just you, then?
fallingsand: (67;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-11-22 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
In the chapel? Yeah, just me. I think... there are other people around, further out into the ruins, and there are, uh, some gargoyles, too, but the first keep to themselves and I don't think the second is really awake yet.

[ The Barrens was definitely not a place to sit down outside for a rest; shadier people lurking around and things that'd be more than happy to snack on either of them. The thought had Bruno picking up the pace a tiny bit. Only a tiny bit. Although with the mention of a chapel, the sloped, tiled roof of one can be seen up ahead, no doubt their destination. ]
Edited 2022-11-22 02:14 (UTC)
healthkit: (pic#15946318)

[personal profile] healthkit 2022-11-22 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
Gargoyles? Like them statues on churches?

[ Those are the only ones he's familiar with anyway.

Admittedly he's struggling, sweat gathering along his brow, and his skin feeling clammy and sallow, and probably looking as much as well. He tries not to lean too much of his weight into the other, smaller man, and he's glad to see the shape of the chapel up ahead.

If he were still back there, resting against those boulders, how long would he have lasted before something got to him? Would he have even made it back to the Harbours at all?

Better not to consider the what-ifs. ]
fallingsand: (26;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-11-25 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
Mm, yep, only they're alive and really big and definitely would like to tear us apart, s-so...

[ Hurry, hurry, he wants to say, but he isn't willing to push Joel further than he can be in his condition. Whatever it is, it seems bad and he's already ticking off what else he can possibly do to help. Make up somewhere warm to lay down on a pew or the floor; he can't possibly get him to climb up to the balcony where most of his blankets are, meaning he'll have to bring them down. Maybe see what he has left for tea, get him something warm to drink, then... what? What else?

He isn't sure but he'll think about it more when they're less in the open and more inside nice, thick stone walls. Speaking of those, they're getting closer now. The chapel itself is lacking in stone gargoyles of its own, thankfully. It's fairly simple in design, something you might have found in a historical little village somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It's covered in vines and moss and brambles on the outside and some windows have been broken and boarded up from the inside. Not the best place, sure, but still a place.
]
healthkit: (pic#15946304)

[personal profile] healthkit 2022-11-27 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ Only ones he knows of are made of stone, so it is with a wary eye that he glances up towards the skies as though in search of flying stone creatures.

But thankfully this afterlife sees fit to offer Joel this one moment of peace, with none of those too-alive gargoyles swooping down to pick on easy prey, and it's a goddamned good thing too. He can feel his energy flagging with each step he takes, and it's all too reminiscent of what had happened to him just before he woke up in the Shadowlands, lying on that ratty old mattress in the dead of winter with a badly patched wound in his side the shape and size of thick rebar.

Now it's nausea and shortness of breath, and coughing up petals while feeling like his energy's being sapped from him. Just a few hours of rest though and he thinks he'll be fine. (He hopes.)

The moment they head up towards the simple chapel, it almost does feel like a place of sanctuary and solace. He could even thank God if he still believed in the guy, but of course he doesn't and he won't. But for whatever it might be, it's still strangely familiar — especially with the way nature seems to have overtaken its structure again — and he's the one now to urge them forward. ]


Nice place you got here.
fallingsand: (25;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-11-27 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's no telling if that's sincere or sarcastic but Bruno, trying to look at the positive side of things, decides to take it as sincere. ]

Oh, it's alright. A roof and four walls and all.

[ Step by trudging step, they approach, and soon enough, he can open one of the rounded double doors at the front of the chapel and usher Joel in. He's quick to follow, quietly shutting the door behind them, and then they're there. It's quiet and currently only lit by the constant moonlight of Stygia's sky, meaning it'll take a moment for eyes to adjust and for Bruno to take Joel's arm again, leading him to the nearest, most intact pew.

The chapel itself isn't overtaken by nature or cluttered with refuse. Bruno likely spent time cleaning it up for it to be that way but with the lack of light, details are sparse.
]

Sit here, I'll go get the candles lit.

[ And absolutely lacking in electricity, it seems. ]
healthkit: (pic#15946327)

[personal profile] healthkit 2022-11-30 06:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ Joel grunts as he's carefully guided towards one of the pews with the least amount of natural (or unnatural) wear and tear, his entire body seeming to sag under his own weight once he's allowed to finally rest. He doesn't let up on those finely-honed survivalist instincts of his, always expecting the other shoe to drop (because it usually does), or something to come bursting through the next door unannounced. He knows he can get to a weapon real fast if he has to, and he knows (more or less) where the exit is.

But he allows himself to take a moment, to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the chapel's interior while he waits for Bruno to return with candles. And he almost relishes in the emptiness of the space — of the quiet. It ain't safe in this world, that much he knows, but this place doesn't feel dangerous.

That's something.

He breathes in as deep as his lungs will allow and lets out a still-wet cough, though blessedly without any petals. ]
fallingsand: (70;)

[personal profile] fallingsand 2022-12-02 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There is indeed a calmness to the chapel once inside. Hidden away is the empty, grey world of the Barrens and once Bruno begins going around with one lit candle and lighting the rest placed around the place — on the altar, in the windows — it may not necessarily warm up physically but the light itself lends a warm look along with more light to see by.

With more light comes a better look at the place, too. It's been tidied up, the pews moved back into proper rows and some even repaired here and there, although Bruno hasn't gotten to all of them just yet. Behind them, hanging over the doors and chapel foyer is a balcony that has long since lost its stairs but a rope ladder has been added instead. Chances are that's where Bruno actually stays when here, seeing how this floor of the place is absent of general supplies and extra furniture.
]

Is it, uh. It's the flower thing, isn't it?

[ He asks tentatively, pausing at the altar as he finishes lighting the candles. He's turned to look back towards Joel questioningly. That's his best guess, seeing how it's been going around. ]