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sticksandbones2024-10-04 11:32 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-10-04 11:32 am
EVENT & TDM 017
WHO ARE THEY?
WAKE UP
Grey, overcast skies. A touch of autumn rain. The smell of crisp apples and fallen leaves, and the crunch of grass underfoot. Pumpkins growing along the path and out of the walls of the buildings and on the rooves and wait what—
You’re not sure how you got here, but does it really matter? There’s something more urgent happening. As you stare at the pumpkin growing out of the wall by your head, something small and coin-shaped bonks you right on the noggin. As you look up, you’ll realise that the rain is gradually becoming less and less wet, and more and more… candy.
It’s raining candy. Wrapped candy, mind — the sky doesn’t want any food safety issues! No razor blades in the chocolate this year! — but candy nonetheless. Chocolate coins, taffy, sour candies, you name it, all coming down gradually before an absolute deluge of goodies pour down upon Aldric’s Grove. Some of them include wrapped bags of microwave popcorn and, yes, the occasional toothbrush. If you’re lucky, you might get clocked in the head with a mini pumpkin!
…don’t be lucky. Maybe get inside and wait for the trick-or-treat storm to pass, and make some friends while you’re at it. Surely the people who’ve been here for a bit can explain this one? Surely…?
You’re not sure how you got here, but does it really matter? There’s something more urgent happening. As you stare at the pumpkin growing out of the wall by your head, something small and coin-shaped bonks you right on the noggin. As you look up, you’ll realise that the rain is gradually becoming less and less wet, and more and more… candy.
It’s raining candy. Wrapped candy, mind — the sky doesn’t want any food safety issues! No razor blades in the chocolate this year! — but candy nonetheless. Chocolate coins, taffy, sour candies, you name it, all coming down gradually before an absolute deluge of goodies pour down upon Aldric’s Grove. Some of them include wrapped bags of microwave popcorn and, yes, the occasional toothbrush. If you’re lucky, you might get clocked in the head with a mini pumpkin!
…don’t be lucky. Maybe get inside and wait for the trick-or-treat storm to pass, and make some friends while you’re at it. Surely the people who’ve been here for a bit can explain this one? Surely…?
A BONE TO PICK
At midnight the day after the candy storm ends, a distant rattlin’ sound can be heard. From the forest surrounding the Grove comes the clickety-clack of dry bones as what appears to be a small army of skeletons assembles. At the head of the phalanx is none other than everyone’s favourite friendly skeletal spirit, Mr. Bone-Jangles. If anyone happens to be up at this late hour, he’ll wave hello and greet you… by plucking one of those pumpkins off the wall or out of the ground, breaking it open by ramming his skull into it, and handing you one half.
It’s full of candy, just like the skies were. Has anyone cleaned up the candy sitting on the ground from last night’s storm…? This is too much! Just as someone tries to tell him that there’s too much sugar here, he breaks open a second pumpkin, which contains fully-baked pumpkin pie that uses the shell of the pumpkin as the crust. Sigh.
This will be your entire month. Mr. Bone-Jangles will hand you sugar-filled pumpkins if he thinks you’re getting too sad or uncomfortable at any point, and his skeletal entourage follow behind him, loudly playing off-key music like the worst marching band you’ve ever heard. You’re not entirely sure how skeletons can play the trumpet — they don’t have lungs! — but it doesn’t really matter. It’s happening. You must deal with it. He’s not taking “no” for an answer.
Cheer up! Stop being depressed! Try Not Thinking About It™!
It’s full of candy, just like the skies were. Has anyone cleaned up the candy sitting on the ground from last night’s storm…? This is too much! Just as someone tries to tell him that there’s too much sugar here, he breaks open a second pumpkin, which contains fully-baked pumpkin pie that uses the shell of the pumpkin as the crust. Sigh.
This will be your entire month. Mr. Bone-Jangles will hand you sugar-filled pumpkins if he thinks you’re getting too sad or uncomfortable at any point, and his skeletal entourage follow behind him, loudly playing off-key music like the worst marching band you’ve ever heard. You’re not entirely sure how skeletons can play the trumpet — they don’t have lungs! — but it doesn’t really matter. It’s happening. You must deal with it. He’s not taking “no” for an answer.
Cheer up! Stop being depressed! Try Not Thinking About It™!
IT’S YOU, IT’S ME
Not everything can go smoothly, though. Not that one would call Mr. Bone-Jangles and his marching band of goobers smooth, but at least they aren’t an active threat to you. The same night he appears, so do others. Your “Other” — a doppelganger who looks just like you, thinks like you, acts like you, has powers like you do (or don’t). They know you. They want to be you.
The Others don’t make their appearance too obvious. They hide in the shadows, waiting for the opportune time to strike. Some might even wait until you’re talking to someone else to appear and cry out that’s not me! I’m right here! in an attempt to frame you. In almost every way, they’re the perfect “you” — especially should they get the drop on you and slash your throat, or gut you like a cod, or push you into the well where you’ll fall for an eternity before drowning all alone. Your Other will replace you seamlessly and, perhaps, they might turn their attention to your friends and loved ones next.
Yet, there’s always something “off” about them, no matter how perfect a replica. Perhaps your Other is more temperamental. Perhaps they don’t speak as well, or they speak far more intelligently than you ever did, or they’ve forgotten basic facts about their life. Perhaps your Other forgot that their dear friend’s birthday is coming up here soon. Or perhaps…
…the knife they brandish in broad daylight is a dead giveaway?
The Others don’t make their appearance too obvious. They hide in the shadows, waiting for the opportune time to strike. Some might even wait until you’re talking to someone else to appear and cry out that’s not me! I’m right here! in an attempt to frame you. In almost every way, they’re the perfect “you” — especially should they get the drop on you and slash your throat, or gut you like a cod, or push you into the well where you’ll fall for an eternity before drowning all alone. Your Other will replace you seamlessly and, perhaps, they might turn their attention to your friends and loved ones next.
Yet, there’s always something “off” about them, no matter how perfect a replica. Perhaps your Other is more temperamental. Perhaps they don’t speak as well, or they speak far more intelligently than you ever did, or they’ve forgotten basic facts about their life. Perhaps your Other forgot that their dear friend’s birthday is coming up here soon. Or perhaps…
…the knife they brandish in broad daylight is a dead giveaway?
…IT’S US
If you don’t kill your Other first, they will certainly kill you. The Others aren’t too concerned about any corpses hanging out in broad daylight, easily discovered by the masses where they can try to investigate if it’s “you” or “them”. Their job is to kill you; the method and clean-up really don’t matter, and since they’re the only ones left, they can claim easily that you were the doppelganger all along.
Where does your spirit go when you die to an Other? Deep within the forest lies a mansion made of creaky old wood and worn-down stone, one which no one outside can currently get into. The spirits of those who died are trapped here, left to haunt these halls. It is, ostensibly, a normal-if-decrepit home inside. There are living rooms, there’s a foyer, there are plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms, there’s a humungous kitchen — and as you float through the home, sometimes, a sense of mischief overtakes you. You really want to throw that table at someone. You really want to jump out at someone and frighten the daylights out of them. It’s dark in here, and there are plenty of places to hide.
Sadly for your prankster’s heart, the living — no matter how hard they try, and you sure can hear them trying — have been unable to break in, and they won’t be able to. Yet, standing just outside the iron-wrought fence, a stalwart figure of chaos and bad ideas, holding a greatsword with both skeletal hands… stands Mr. Bone-Jangles.
It seems like a way inside might unveil itself after all.
Where does your spirit go when you die to an Other? Deep within the forest lies a mansion made of creaky old wood and worn-down stone, one which no one outside can currently get into. The spirits of those who died are trapped here, left to haunt these halls. It is, ostensibly, a normal-if-decrepit home inside. There are living rooms, there’s a foyer, there are plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms, there’s a humungous kitchen — and as you float through the home, sometimes, a sense of mischief overtakes you. You really want to throw that table at someone. You really want to jump out at someone and frighten the daylights out of them. It’s dark in here, and there are plenty of places to hide.
Sadly for your prankster’s heart, the living — no matter how hard they try, and you sure can hear them trying — have been unable to break in, and they won’t be able to. Yet, standing just outside the iron-wrought fence, a stalwart figure of chaos and bad ideas, holding a greatsword with both skeletal hands… stands Mr. Bone-Jangles.
It seems like a way inside might unveil itself after all.
SPARK NOTES
CLICK TO EXPAND!
WAKE UP
Welcome to Aldric's Grove, newbies! It's raining candy and the pumpkins are growing out of everything they can, no matter how nonsense it is. The people who've been here for a while probably know how to explain this one. Definitely.
A BONE TO PICK
An army of skeletons with instruments are here to cheer you up. Whenever you're Too Sad or Too Uncomfortable or Too Negative Emotion Here, they will chase you down and play music, and their leader will hand you a broken pumpkin full of sweets. Yaaay!
IT’S YOU, IT’S ME
The peace doesn't last long. Doppelgangers appear, seemingly from nowhere, with the intent to kill and replace you. They're almost-perfect copies, but there's always something off about them. They're perfectly killable, if you're smart about it.
…IT’S US
Those of you who die to your doppelgangers will leave a pretty corpse behind, and your spirits will be trapped in a (currently inaccessible) mansion in the forest until further notice. Your spirits will be quite tempted into mischievious ghost activities while you await your rescue.
OOC
Welcome to October's TDM! Reminder that all TDMs are game canon. This is the LAST TDM of the year; November & December won't have any due to the holiday season. We'll see you guys in January with a fresh new TDM, but feel free to continue playing on this one until then. OOC Plotting Lives Here if you'd like to plot anything out!
Living characters cannot currently get into the mansion to stage a rescue, but we encourage anyone who's "gone ghost" to float about in there. The rescue will be a mid-month event for our current playerbase at time of writing.
Living characters cannot currently get into the mansion to stage a rescue, but we encourage anyone who's "gone ghost" to float about in there. The rescue will be a mid-month event for our current playerbase at time of writing.
UPDATES
❖ None yet!
SUBMISSIONS
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As they approach this spot, the birds singing in the trees stop. Several of them will hop down from their perches and gather around to watch.
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"If you do not wish to do this, I will not ask again, nor condemn your decision. I understand the weight of it, and I do not wish to burden you further than your soul already aches with."
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Lily only shakes her head.
"It's better we do this together. Someone is needed, and I am the best for the job.... and to ensure Oripathy doesn't spread, as well."
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Plus he hopes it works without the rest of her skeleton, because it would take quite a bit of work finding all her bones, and digging them up. Not that he wouldn't do it, but he's hoping the magic will seek them out for them.
Then the circles, smaller connecting ones, drawn in the dirt. Things they've both learned while trying to make a Cookie, modified for this world, for Aurora. After all, they're not trying to bind life to dough.
Finally, his Soul Jam, the remaining half of it. It's been flickering since he broke Beiwe's piece off for her, betraying the pain Vanilla feels deep in his soul from having pieces fractured off. It's not a pain he can quantify, different from the Jam's previously breaking during the battle. The Light had still been there, just took a while to call to each other and recoalesce.
"I am counting on you, my love," to Lily, and then he activates the magic. Let's it flow between the skull and the Soul Jam, crumbling the former to pieces of sparkling bright light, as he attempts to infuse the Life Powder into Aurora.
congratulations on solving my bird puzzle
It turns out the thing they don't tell you in Sticks School is that, apparently, summoning a deceased soul isn't all that difficult. At the very least, Pure Vanilla and White Lily will get the impression that there's a flicker of life sitting in the head of the skeleton, especially when it starts to, um... vibrate? It starts to vibrate just a liiiiiittle bit. The earth shakes around the dug-up spot, a distant rumble, but no more than that.
At this point, it might seem like they either need to dump more magic into it, or give up and go home and hire an actual necromancer for the job. But behind them, the earth further shakes as Moder trundles up behind the two of them, politely incanting her head toward the duo as she, too, filters her magic into the bond. Then comes Zahliya from the Church's roof to do the same, neon green fire meeting Moder's forest-green magic halfway. From out of one of the inn windows blorps Callan to contribute his own sickly dark blue energy to it, and though Sinann can't reach the group from the river, it can still send beams of light blue life energy into the skies from the water.
The Guardians, they might note, are acting completely on autopilot. They aren't hypnotized nor possessed, but rather operating on an instinct only deities could have between each other.
The skull lifts from the dirt, floating above its grave, and the formerly-still birds surrounding this spot fly to it as it ascends higher and higher. They land on it, first one, then two, then four, eight — some even climb into the empty eye sockets and nestle in there. Gradually, the dried bone is covered by various birds to the point where none of it shows through in their feathers. The skull ascends higher, and higher... and it disappears.
There's stillness for a moment. Pure Vanilla and White Lily will feel that the filtered magic suddenly starts to go nowhere at all, looping around on itself because it has nothing to filter into. Whether they drop their channelling with the Guardians or not, after a solid minute of stillness, they'll hear the skies above them crack apart like glass, the magic barrier assailed by something breaching it with the force of something like cannonfire. And, eventually, it does shatter, grey skies giving way to a clear blue above, and something comprised of mostly red feathers with trailing rainbows descends into the grove like a speeding bullet.
She is massive. Taller than the inn and twice the size of Moder. And you, friends, have witnessed the rebirth of a God.
no subject
He sees a giant guardian bird and sighs.
And grabs a bottle of wine.
It's too early for this shit.]
solved bird puzzle by repeatedly whacking the puzzle with his staff
Or perhaps it's because he's just so... so tired.
He moves back a little to make room for her and so he can bow, low and a little wobbly, before beaming towards the others. Sorry, Zahliya, he doesn't hate you even if his eyes flick away from you quickly, the daffodils on his neck feeling a little heavier.
"Thank you for your aid, my friends. Because of you, because of your will, your friend has returned." And then to Aurora, even as his Staff's eye closes, and the vines that act as it's little arms curl a little more and still. "Welcome back, Lady Aurora. Forgive me if that is not your true name but I fear we have lost your real one to time. The Grove has sorely missed you."
no subject
White Lily Cookie doesn't care one bit, instead preparing for the death that will come next.
"How much time, love?"
... She asks, but she already is moving to lift her staff- the plan might seem cold or cruel, but...
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He holds his hand out for hers. A chill is creeping over him, slowly but steadily. He had been hoping that without his Soul Jam, he would simply return to himself. That he would live and simply be Pure Vanilla again, and not the Bearer of Truth. It seems the two are more entwined than he thought.
Plus he wants to move away from the Guardians. Let Aurora bask in her return and her fellow guardians attention, and let what comes be quieter. And safer.
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"... If you're going to say anything, say it when you come home. Please. I won't accept anything less- I'll pry you from the forest's hands myself if I must."
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"I promise I will not be long in returning, you shall barely notice I am gone. And then we shall celebrate properly."
Here. A nice little tree to sit under. He gently tugs Lily down with him as he settles there. Then leans against her side.
"... It is rather peaceful."
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But she has a duty to uphold, as a researcher of Oripathy. ... She still lets him lead her to sit down, and she squeezes his hand gently.
"I'll be with you, even when I can't, though. ... The autumn leaves are turning, isn't it lovely, Vanilla?"
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She's warm against his side, a steady presence as his thoughts slow and relax. There's no fear with her here. And her question goes unanswered for a moment, as he slowly becomes heavier against her. Finally, softly:
"Not as lovely as you. I love you, White Lily Cookie."
It's a quiet death. He exhales one last time with a soft 'ah', his hand squeezes hers in return, and his head slumps against her shoulder.
no subject
...
Not a trace remains, even as she brings him back to the lab.
Needs must, after all. Nothing can be wasted.
(And he says she's not a monster.)