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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 didn't get yours, either. Perhaps this is now time for introductions, hm?

[it could have been yet another opportunity for rebuke, but shalem is still gentle with him, kind. he simply reaches into his jacket pocket and holds out a handkerchief for the man to take, just in case blood accompanies the next petal he coughs out.

this man strikes him as a person who follows his whims and just says whatever he wants or whatever comes to mind, projecting perceptions to his surroundings. shalem is willing to tolerate that to a point-- if he gets violent or malicious, shalem will put his foot down. but so far? this is really quite pleasant.]

Shalem. My name is Shalem. And yours is...?

[ oddly enough, he feels things have been operating backwards since his arrival here. unlike back at home, no one balked at the "lack of courtesy," or attached themselves to decorum or propriety. despite growing up in the midst of that, he didn't dislike the shift. including the shift in saying his name so after the fact.

granted, it isn't like he really had to introduce himself at home either. though, despite the fact that this man could clearly use this as some means to find fault with him, he instead offers him a handkerchief. which, (after a second too long) he does accept, if more out of the initial shock of it than anything else. ] You really are quite sympathetic, aren't you? [ but, he doesn't mean that in a negative way. it's just... different than what he was accustomed to.

after a moment: ] Callisto. [ there's a brief pause as he stares at the handkerchief. ] Blood will be difficult to remove. [ he says as if warning him?

.... just in case he changes his mind??? ]

I will be worrying about that.

And it's better to get blood on a small scrap of fabric than a pair of trousers or a clean shirt, don't you think?

[he's just not going to say that he knows how to get blood off of clothing. not a conversation he wants to get into.]

Despite your confident, haughty-seeming nature.... you're quite wary, aren't you?

[ another set of kind words that he still manages to be taken aback by. though, as always, he doesn't let the initial shock remain for long. instead, he looks back down at the handkerchief with an contemplative smile. that is, before... ]

While you are actually quite fearless. [ though, also oddly considerate. a fact that he doesn't intend to gloss over even within the confines of his own private considerations that said: ] Or is stubborn a better word?

[ which, he still means in good humor. not all too serious about his own words. ] But, do I truly appear that wary? [ it's a word he doesn't hear often, despite it actually being... quite close to the truth. though, he supposed anyone would be wary were they to share his position. ]

Hmm... [he taps his chin, giving the illusion of thought. then again, he's trying to find the right words to say.]

You act like every act of kindness is merely a ruse. As if every helping will just be taken away when you're reaching for it. [shalem doesn't give voice to another possibility-- that every helping hand is in fact a claw, a trap. a catch.

but he understands that, as well.]

Edited 2022-11-25 04:09 (UTC)

If that's the impression I am giving off, it appears I may be more ill than I expected. [ except, he's in no way serious, even if his ailment is a huge inconvenience. regardless, he coughs out another petal, almost as if being called out on his own bravado. using the handkerchief, he coughs a few times into, the blood all too present on the corner of his lip. ]

In your world, were there a lot of threats? [ it may seem sudden, but it's not at all unrelated all things considered. he guessed just like any world, it came with its fair share of dangers, trials, and tribulations. but, he supposed the thought alone could maybe help frame his thoughts. or justify his own way of being. though, he gets the impression he didn't necessarily need to considering that shalem seemed strangley accommodating? ]

What world doesn't have a lot of threats? [perhaps he's going overboard with these rhetorical questions... and he realizes this. he waves his hands.]

In fact, I would say that if you didn't know how to protect yourself in my world, you needed to be able to surround yourself with those who could do it for you.

But... from experience, the higher position you hold in society, the more it's expected that you know how to protect yourself.

[ from those words alone, he figures their world as a default may have been more dangerous than even the one he has hailed from. which does bring in perspective to him being in the business of transporting medical goods. still, it also put into perspective that while it probably was a pretty big assumption that this guy really wasn't that bad.

at least not compared to the two-faced nobles he was more accustomed to dealing with. ] I suppose that's similar to how I feel. After all, no one can guarantee you were always to have someone protect you.

Besides, leaving your life in someone else's hands sounds quite frightening, does it not? [ a smile as he continues. ] Would you leave your life in my hands? [ it's a joke, obviously, but he seems to think he's funny. sorry shalem. ]

Hmm. [shalem knows this is just as a joke-- and indeed, he plans on continuing such a joke. personally, he just thinks it's funny to act like he's taking it seriously, and he opens his hands, beckoning with them.]

Let me see your hands, then. [if he has scars. callouses. rough patches.

and where. all these and more will tell shalem if he's a combatant, a labourer, or has never seen hard work in his entire life.]

[ maybe it's fortune that callisto shares this same brand of humor, all the willing to show his hands. albeit, not without his own quip. if there is any man who has to have the last word.... it's him. ] Seeing the hands of the crown prince if a huge honor, naturally...

[ but, he's not opposed in the least. almost relaxed as he opens them up, palm up. his hands are indeed quite calloused from years of wielding the sword. scars also all too clear, though not nearly as bad as the rest of his body. though, maybe it's fortunate, that he doesn't share those.

except: ] Next you will be asking to see my body.

["crown prince", he says, and shalem thinks no bloody wonder.

no bloody wonder he acts like that. how many people have approached him pretending friendship, only to have a mean-spirited agenda? he has to wonder...]

I only ask that of people I find attractive. [his tone is cheerful, almost too cheerful, the pythia well aware that it's edging on this side of shameless.

and still he examines the man's hands, holding it with his gloved ones, knowing that his own markings are hidden.]

[ attractive... there's a scoff at that.

callisto had no lack of confidence, and it probably showed in how funny he seems to think that is. ] Do I even have to ask what your verdict is? [ he gives a bit of a shrug. ] Either way, I'm not sure if this it the most opportune place. If you desired my nudity, might I have suggested my arrival instead. [ they were naked at one point, weren't they? not that they could necessarily go back to that time.

however, despite his words, he was also taking a look at shalem's gloved hands. ] Do you always wear those?

[shalem laughs softly, briefly, before he pats callisto's hand and sets it back down. someone coughing blood would not be good as a nude companion...

(except his shadow tells him that they would be, if shalem was the one to put that blood in their lungs.)]

I feel naked without them, and a good deal of jewelry. [like the rings on his fingers, the earrings dangling from his ears, the simple, thin chain around one delicate-looking wrist.]

Are you perhaps feeling like this is unbalanced in some way, I asked for your bared hands and now you want to see mine?

[ damn shalem.

though, to be fair, even if callisto had heard his shadow's thoughts, he likely would not even have bat an eye. he wasn't a stranger to violence, or the impulses surrounding it. if anything, he has his fair share of experiences, including with his own shadow, which has somehow been kept at bay. it's easier when he has conversation to distract, both from his sickness and whatever lingering sentiments he may have had. ]

I never expected you the type to be so vain. [ once more, he's jesting. not serious about his own words in the least. though, it does kind of remind him of someone else... who seemed so into jewels and gold. a thought he purposely brushes off with a firm cough. ]

Not at all. If you don't want to share, that's fine by me. I figure that may simply be the cost of taking your time. [ which was fine by him. besides, even without saying, it's clear he enjoyed the conversation at least. a fair distraction.

though, now he is kind of curious so maybe one day? can't discount the future, can we? ]

[shalem keeps his hands covered, and laced together before him. it would be a whole production to remove them, tugging on the rings and then rolling off the gloves before doing everything in reverse. not something he cares for right now.]

Perhaps some other day. Perhaps on that day, I wouldn't have to many rings to remove just to sate your curiosity.

If it's so difficult to remove, some may argue why have it on in the first place. [ but, he shrugs all the same. some day is some day, and despite being an impatient man by virtue, he wasn't about to push this man into doing all of this so openly. while he hans't heard of any petty thefts, you never know, and those were a lot of... accessories. so instead, he simply smiles, repeating his words. ] Some other day then.

Be sure to keep your promise. [ was it a promise...

should he care this much? probably not, but well he could be petty. ]

Oh, how impatient. You want them off now, do you not?

[how typical of a royal! and shalem has seen enough shenanigans from them in the past, especially when the ruling dynasties in victoria just crumbled-- or in the case of the aslans, exploded their reputations to smithereens.

point is; nobles are spoiled. to him, callisto is not an exception.]

[ he's likely not wrong. despite the fact that callisto fought tooth and nail for his his position or even his survival, there were no doubts that he believed he was entitled to certain privileges becoming of his position. no, it would be more accurate to state that he were simply the sort of person who would exploit what he had, and had qualms speaking to his own desires.

still, despite clearly knowing his own wants, or even the curiosity he so knows he wants sated, he does respect shalem's wishes. he supposes it's the least bit of generosity he can provide. with a smile, he responds in tune. ]

I am by no means a patient man, but I can wait in consideration to your gift. [ by gift, he means the handkerchief of course... ]

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