logs | (no subject)

(no subject)

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

[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. ]

[So it's not just the flowers, but something else as well. Zagreus doesn't want to pry further from what Lottie would willingly tell him, so he doesn't ask, especially when she's so adamantly refusing to. He sips at his water, eyes closing for a second as he swallows the fresh water to wash down the copper in his mouth.]

Yes. Well— [A thought.] It's new, started some time after we last met, and it started slow, but… [He takes a deep breath and clears his throat a little bit more, taking another sip.] It has escalated quite quickly for me for some reason.

[ Misery loves company, right? That's her usual motto when it comes to shared pain. Except hearing Zagreus admit to having had this much trouble with his sickness makes her feel upset. Maybe a little peeved, and definitely not at him. She bites at her lip, tries to not make it terrible obvious she's letting out her nerves this way when he drinks his water.

..Right. She should probably do that.. Lottie gently pushes herself up, one motion at a time. ]

Yeah, me too.. It's kind of annoying.

[ Her nails anxiously tap at the glass. ]

Resting doesn't even do anything because it feels so random. I can never tell when an attack is gonna happen, you know?

Misery does love company, there's a reason why there are three Furies and not just the one. Zagreus nods, his face drawing sympathy. While she is peeved that this is happening to him, he definitely wouldn't wish the same to happen to her.

I do. I… [How to put this. The coughing fits do make him feel light-headed, if anything because it's all so new, even if he's terribly aware of his body. It's different from a wound or injury in one of his runs. He can see when those will show up, understand the why of their presence. This thing, it's so invisible, both in symptom and origin, that he can't help but try to focus on every little detail to wonder if it's any different than normal.] It helps to get distracted, but I'll confess that sometimes it's difficult.

[Restless god has a restless mind.] Someone on the phone has said something about how it's a fictional disease in their world. I'm not sure I quite believed it until someone else mentioned something similar.

[ Restless minds think alike, because Lottie was absolutely trying to figure out how to bring up triggers. What it is that makes him vomit flowers, and if it's the same as hers — turns out teaching him how to use his phone has some advantage, because he read the same post as she did. The one she never replied to, but screenshotted for future reference, the same one she read earlier this morning before going over strategies to not have a fit today.

She stares up at him, fully sitting and (distractedly) sipping at her glass. ]

It is.. I, uh, think it's an internet thing? [ Her lips part, feeling equal parts anxious and curious. ] Do you think it's true? About.. How you get it?

An 'internet thing'? [Now he does know what an internet is, thank you modern day kiddos in Stygia, and the things he's heard and read on the phone. It's been distracting, really, but a welcome distraction nonetheless.

Zag shrugs and sips at the drink again.] I can only speak from my own experience, but it does make sense to me. It seems sort of, ah, frightening for me because if it's true that the cause of all of this is unrequited feelings, then—

[Excuse him while he grimaces and fights yet another coughing fit. He buries half of his face against his hand and takes a deep breath, raising a finger as if saying, 'one second'.

A clear of his throat, tentatively voicing just a sound to make sure his voice is working.] I do care for some people back home.

[ Oh, wow. Even though she had her suspicions, it feels weird having him say it. Someone like Zagreus is in the same (maybe not exactly the same but, details) situation she's in? That doesn't make sense, he's actually likeable.

Lottie frowns, unsure of what to say at first, and it's half because it's hard to think with his coughing. It sounds like it hurts, and this topic may hurt.. Emotionally? She's ballparking it, here, so she slides that same vial from earlier his way. ]

You.. Care?

[ She tosses her own back and feels her belly settle, the unease at the words 'unrequited feelings' edging away with the remedy at work. ]

Like.. Care care?

[He takes the vial almost mindlessly, though he looks at it inquisitively.] Oh, what is this?

[Not that he's suspicious, he's only genuinely curious.

And just like that, easy, open and raw, he does admit to it. He even smiles a little as he opens the vial, sniffing its contents. Even though he's not sure if the targets of his affection would ever reciprocate (he knows one will not, but that's okay, he's grateful, anyway), he likes feeling, feeling for people.

He likes feeling love, even if it's not aimed at himself.] I do have feelings for them, yes.

[Because to Zagreus, there's no greater strength than being vulnerable and owning up to your feelings. Though he is a little self conscious about it being more than one, as he knows people on the surface tend to have relationships with only one person at a time.]

Edited 2022-12-06 13:14 (UTC)

[ Lottie, simply, can't relate. His smile only serves to make her just as confused as she is about someone not liking Zagreus back. For someone like her, in her eyes, it begrudgingly makes sense -- she may be an influencer but she can't force people to like her, even if she tries very hard to do it. Tries stupidly hard, if her attempts at changing herself to mold pretty with her crush is anything to go by.

And it makes her angry, upset, vaguely defeated that even now she can't win at something as stupid as feelings. After all, there is nothing pleasant about the reminder you're undesirable. But on the flip side, she's happy he's happy. Vaguely jealous. So much that she forgets he asked her a question, that he admitted to splitting his heart in two for not just one, but multiple someones?

(And she's back to feeling bad, a total whiplash of emotions because of course he would. He's too nice, so soft. Confident and pleasant to be around. A lot of things she wishes she was, but isn't.) ]

It's medicine, duh. If we're gonna talk, I don't want a repeat of outside happening in here..

[ Of course, she doesn't mention much about herself. Not yet, anyway. Lottie is a bit too scared to open up like that, even if she knows he would understand, so she focuses in on his first question. ]

If you, wanna, talk. I shouldn't assume or anything, sorry..

[He leaves a hand on her blanket-covered knee, pats it there. It's heartfelt, but with the thick fabric over her legs, she probably doesn't feel much of it.] This probably wasn't easy to come by. Thank you, Lottie. You're a godsend.

[A slight tip of his vial, before he downs it in one go.] Cheers, then.

[Does it help? Sort of. It's… numbing, somewhat. Reminds him of the herbs his mother grew in her garden but hadn't ventured to look too deep into what they were.

He clears his throat.] It's alright. I don't mind talking, but it's sort of a downer. Unrequited feelings aren't exactly the funniest thing to talk about. [He thinks about that as soon as it leaves his lips.] Maybe it is, but I don't see it quite yet.