Event: It Speaks of My Death, but I Am Unafraid

[morrowmods]

it speaks of my death,
but i am unafraid

autumn squashed | devotion | clairvoyance | ooc notes

all hallowed plays

Autumn Squashed As the brisk autumn air bites and the sun reigns for less and less time each day, the farmworkers happily begin to share the fruits of their efforts. The group of gourds is bountiful this season, praise be to the Old Ones, and the offerings from the local cooks has adjusted accordingly. Hearty bowls of squash soup abound, creamy and loaded with heavy calories to facilitate hard labor outdoors. All these strapping novitiate lads can surely set their minds to rest and help out more than they have been

The children of the village also appear to be enjoying the season, grabbing the leftover vegetable shells and carving creatures into their skins. The result of their creativity is that the town has started to glow at night, lit by the ethereal radiance of dozens of candles filtered by the grinning shapes just barely shading them. It all seems to normal, as long as you aren't outdoors too late.

Just past midnight, when the moon has reached its height, the carvings seem to find their own cravings. Something about the moonlight seems to resonate with that of the lanterns and prompts them to sprout from the ground on gangly, misshapen bodies of their own. From then until dawn, they wandeer the town like sentries, hissing warnings in the incomprehensible tongue of the Old Ones. They aren't harmful if left unprovoked, but will retaliate if they encounter violence from those prone to beast-slaying. It is advised to stay indoors to avoid becoming gored by a gourd.

if we die tomorrow

Devotion The day of Devotion sends a thrum of excitement around the town every time it happens. It is an honor to be allowed to show the Old Ones that the community accepts and cherishes the watchful eyes looking over them. It is a time to meet with their own wretchedness and come to terms with the insignificance of their lives. This month is intended to be a celebration of longevity and the centuries-long legacy both behind and ahead. Those who attend the Devotion receive an anonymizing mask to shield their identities from all but the eyes above. They are encouraged to ply themselves on food and drink before the start of the ritual itself.

The speeches are long and droning as ever, detailing the infinitesimal smallness of humanity and the thrumming wait for the end of all things. And once the elders begin to chant in more ancient words, the rhythm of the unpronounceable syllables feels safe somehow. There is protection in the ceremony, an assurance that these chosen few are the ones who will live to watch the end of everything else. Those who truly believe will see it in their minds' eye: a rain of fire consuming the home they remember best. Corpses left unburied while the survivors flee. A sky cracking open to reveal an indigo thunderstorm. Skeptics might only witness confusing flashes, but all will bear witness to some version of The End.

When the visions subside, the affected will feel an urge to behave as if the gathering is the last day of their lives. Throw caution to the wind. Live dangerously. Tell that special person they are loved. Carry out the vengeance that weighs on your spirit. It'll all be over soon. Make the evening count.

the future refused to change

Clairvoyance After the masque ends, participants are free to remove their veils and return to their everyday lives. It's something the townsfolk historically do with ease. They never seem to struggle when coming down from the emotional highs of the devotional acts. But the comedown is never quite as simple as they make it look.

Those who were present at Devotion will experience small aftershocks for days afterward. Without warning, they will see visions of doom about the people around them. It might be a simple precognition, like seeing someone fell into an open pit while there's still enough time to pull them out of harm's way. But other times, the visions are more graphic or disturbing, such as watching that same friend be mauled by a bear or stretched out on the rack until they are rent limb from limb. Each look into the future seems more grotesque and awful than the one before, but at least there's time to change things before the worst of it arrives. Surely there's time.

As they drop off clean laundry and fresh gossip, the washerwomen insist that these visions, varied and sometimes entirely untrue, are the latest gift from the Old ones. It is proof that the town remains blessed.

ooc notes

It's an event! Hopefully there's something to your liking.

Regarding the pumpkin monsters in particular, this seems like a group that likes to randomize battles. If you're in the mood to roll for initiative and see how things pan out, here are some stats for appropriate critters: Pumpkin King, Pumpkin Tendril, and some smaller chompy pumpkins.

With regard to the precognition side of things, there's a lot of room for visions. They can be "something that definitely will happen" regardless of what a character tries to change things, "something that could happen but is prevented by a quick-acting psychic," or "something that will never happen but sends a character into a panic anyway." People seeing a doomsday vision at Devotion are welcome to envision the worst possible bad ending their canon has to offer.

Have fun giving your characters a little spook during the appropriate season!

game navigation

Comments

QUESTIONS

[morrowmods]

Gale Dekarios | Baldur's Gate 3

[nethereseorb]

:AUTUMN SQUASHED "Hot Wizard Fall":

a. [ The Wizard of Waterdeep remembered quite fondly such an activity as this, gathered around a table carving pumpkins with his mother while his cat, Jellica looped around his legs. The creativity was the same and he was assiduously using all artistic abilities to carve a cat face on the reddish orange surface of the oversized pumpkin. Granted, his artistic talent was more words than pictures (ask him about his poetry) but he could manage little cut-out stripes that looked like whispers, and eyes like triangles.

Really it was not good at all, do not laugh at him-- even though the village children did, but he could absolutely understand that he was not the best at it and perhaps he chuckled as well, he was rather good natured about it when it came right down to it. ]

Granted, I tend toward ambitious-- in a perfect world, I also want to give it a cute wizard hat and plop it down on the top, or perhaps do a border though right now ideas are evading me. It is hard to carve fleur de lis or representations of smoke swirls on this canvas,

[ A wry smile angled at his companion in pumpkin-carving. ]

Do they have traditions like this where you are from?

b. [ Under the light of the harvest moon, the glowing pumpkins took on something sinister in this moment, something that reminded him unsettlingly of monsters that took form in macabre fairy tales-- cautionary tales spoken to ensure that children were good. He stood at the window and watched as the eyes of a pumpkin down below seemed to elongate, the stalks turning into misshapen arms and the eyes taking on a predatory and otherworldly glow.

He'd seen children carve them and now they were the stuff of which nightmares were made.

Because of Wizard Hubris(tm) however, he found his way down the stairs and out the door. Curiosity, nothing more. When one took a swipe at him, it was second nature to swipe at it with his staff, a makeshift one that he had found and twisted to suit his purposes. ]

Is this the power of the Old Ones, then?

:DEVOTION: ''The sky goes black and the thunder rolls and I feel lightning":

[ The mask that he had chosen was a horned god derivative, there had not been much of a selection, but Gale had not treated it as a celebration, even though as he arrived to the place where the ceremony was to be held, there was spread out a veritable feast, with food and drink in abundances.

This was the liveliest that Gale had ever seen this world where they had been transported to. Conversation that felt free and unforced, red wine that loosened tongues and a spread that he had not seen anywhere, like a medieval charcuterie board. Sagely, he filled his plate with food, and a (small) glass of wine to accompany it. (he did not in any way want to tempt fate too much with the Netherese Orb that thrummed in his chest with a bitter warning toward moderation. ]

Where I am from, Waterdeep-- there is usually some sort of festival every other week; this definitely feels a great deal like home.

:CLAIRVOYANCE: "Cassandra calling"

If there was something worse than seeing bad things happen to those around you, it was experiencing visions of things back at home that you could not control. And to the Wizard, that was even worse, because when the dust subsided there was absolutely nothing that he could do, he could not tender a warning, could not send a message.

Gale, invariably, was bound by space and time, the material plane of which his physical form currently resided. Even though he saw his mother becoming one of the Absolute and a sacrifice for the cult, or the party members not here consumed by the Ithillid powers, dark eyes.. tentacles shooting outward and grasping toward the heavens, leaving a Flayer in it's wake.

A cold sweat, of which he woke up from a blind nightmarish fever-- only to realize that he was going about his daily business and that he had paused amid perusing books at the book seller, or while he was picking out an apple from the fruit vendor. His eyes coming down from a dilation haze as he hurtled downward and toward the earth.

"What? I am sorry, I did not here you.. can you ah, please repeat yourself?"

WILD CARD

+ Brackets or Prose, A-OK!
+zauberdecke (feel free to add for plotting purposes)
+Anything not mentioned? I'm down to clown
+I am not afraid to be pretty ridiculous, so you can pitch any idea and I'll probably love it

devotion;

[preybeforemeals]

[Tsukiyama is mostly here for politeness' sake, seeing as he doesn't seem interested in the alcohol and he insists that his body will be more receptive to any signs from the Old Ones if he's fasting; the concept of masks and anonymity at gatherings isn't an unfamiliar one, though, and he's happy to participate in just being among the crowd, seeming energized by their energy in turn. It's a good mood in here, regardless of any prickly undertones that may come with dealings with the Old Ones specifically.

This person seems willing to speak, however, and what he says is interesting enough! Hello, you, you have gained yourself a companion for the pregame.]

I wouldn't say we have festivals quite like this, but we have places where one can go to indulge in this sort of way if they want to - your home sounds lovely, however. Very lively, is it?

[nethereseorb]

[ Gale was always willing to speak with people; as he was still a bit wary of the Old Ones and their followers, keeping a safe and yet studious demeanor about him; the villagers thought his questions were polite and interested, but meanwhile he was filing all of the responses away for further contemplation. But, he was always willing to talk with interesting people and so as Tsukiyama starts to talk, he holds his glass of wine in one hand (really quite lovely, it is) and smiles over at the other man. ]

Waterdeep is called the Crown of the North because it is the largest settlement before Icewind Dale, an epicenter of artisans and scholars-- because of that, you can imagine everyone was eager to throw festivals that perhaps showcase their particular talents.

[ A wry smile aimed at the other man ] At least count, we had 25 festivals throughout the year, but a new one seems to crop up every year.

autumn squashed, b

[stolentrinkets]

[ Back in Exandria, she didn't have anything remotely close to something like this. Carving gourds seemed like it would be a harvest event, possibly sometime between Harvest's Close and Civilization's Dawn, the holy celebration for the Lawbearer.

She does carve one, however, mimicking how she's seen the other ones, a mixture of a "scary" face and something of a mirthful smile.]

Not exactly. [She holds her gourd back a moment, eyeing it from another angle.] This feels like a harvest tradition for me. The closest I can think of to this time of year and how they're describing the day is the Night of Ascension, the day of the Matron of Ravens.

[That made her think of her brother, who was currently back in Zephrah with Keyleth. Let's hope he stays there.] But who am I to talk ill of another's traditions, hm?

[nethereseorb]

Ah yes, same as well.

[ He looks at his kitty face and then turns it so that Vex'ahlia can view it, it is the typical anime kitty face with the whiskers and such, and it looks rather crude-- he could write a poem about pumpkin cats, but carving one? This was perhaps a little bit out of his league. Though the gutting of the pumpkin had been fun, even though it had necessitated the need to clean off with a simple prestidigitation. ]

The Matron of Ravens? That sounds much like something involving.. death?

[ He knows that Ravens are supposed to symbolize death and crossing over, that was one thing that seemed to be shared across all worlds it would seem. ] Of course forgive me if I am wrong, merely using deductive reasoning and it can be faulty at times.

C

[wovensecrets]

"Ah - watch out, Mister Gale."

For her part, Kaori was trying her best to deal with her own issues - mostly by distraction when she could have a chance when not trying to self-isolate. Isolating almost felt worse by comparison, so finding the right sort of familiar face seemed almost comforting. Almost, if her mind's eye hadn't given her the vision of him being absorbed into the sort of blackened whirlpool they'd encountered some time back, and moving forward to steady him out of reflex.

Yay Kaori!

[nethereseorb]

He had been taken off kilter, it was true-- the vision he'd had? Well it had been absolutely real at the time but everything that flashed through his eyes for a split second, was strangely not there anymore. Ah, there were strange tales about madness that came with prophetic visions-- he could see where truth stemmed from them.

He was quite a bit bigger and broader than Kaori and he attempted to gather and center himself as best as possible so that he was not leaning fully on her. "I think.. do you think it would be so much of an imposition if we stopped for some water.. or something?" But not alcohol, absolutely not that.

Ryuunosuke Uryuu | Fate/Zero

[greatestcool]

autumn squashed - i

[It's probably not surprising that Ryuunosuke's been bugging just about everyone in town for more information about the festivities and the Old Ones' thoughts on such things, and he's finally been pointed in the direction of the kids carving pumpkins to get him to focus on something else. Thankfully, this does indeed catch his interest, and it isn't long before Ryuunosuke's gleefully taking part in pumpkin-carving. He's either experienced with it or he learns quickly, given that his attempts are actually pretty good.

...Well, sort of. They're definitely way too cutesy and some of the kids are eager to comment as such. If you're passing by or interested in the pumpkin carving, Ryuunosuke will wave you over.]

Hey! Quick question for you - what kind of spooky thing do you think I should try to carve? Apparently I'm not doing a great job.

[These pumpkins all look so happy! But not in the spooky way. They just seem very delighted to be here. One of them absolutely is making a :3 face.]

autumn squashed - ii

[One thing has been obvious since arriving; Ryuunosuke is the sort of person to stay up late. He likes his odd hours and has kept to that same strange routine here whenever he can get away with it, so it's no surprise that he's still up by the time the pumpkins come to life. He's absolutely delighted by this development and is outside in a moment with zero regard for his own safety - but then, this is surely a gift of the Old Ones, and they wouldn't hurt their chosen, now would they?

He's taken to following after some of the pumpkin beasts, nodding along at their hissed words like he understands their meaning.]

Really would be a little easier if you guys could speak a language I can understand... Are you here to carry out the Old Ones' will?

[More garbled pumpkin-sounds that really do not tell him anything whatsoever. Oh well, at least he seems to be having a good time.]

devotion

[Now this is the sort of party Ryuunosuke was looking forward to when they were summoned, and he's delighted by both the spread of food and drink and perhaps more importantly - by the droning lectures about the Old Ones. He watches attentively, face hidden behind a black cat mask. The visions that come next only further confirm what he already knew - that there certainly is some other power at play here, and it isn't long before Ryuunosuke's trembling head-to-toe, like he's maybe trying to contain the urge to laugh or lash out or both; it's a bit hard to tell with him.

He excuses himself as soon as he can and slips outside. He wanders for a bit, still clearly wound-up and manic as all hell, but determined to put some distance between himself and the others before he finally breaks down giggling. He throws his arms wide and addresses the sky as if the Old Ones can hear him:]

Bless the Old Ones for their gifts! I couldn't have asked for anything more fun!

[Uh. Okay. He's fine, probably.]

wildcard

( Feel free to hit me up on pokerap if you'd like to do something else with Ryuunosuke! As a reminder, his opt-out post is over here so please double check that! )

devotion;

[preybeforemeals]

[Well, this is...new.

Tsukiyama actually wasn't looking for him, after the ceremony was over; he was looking for a place to be away from people, to find somewhere to regulate whatever emotional high he found himself riding for the time being, but he'd found Ryuunosuke instead and there's really only one sort of reaction he can have to this, isn't there- ]

...Are you okay, Uryuu-san?

[greatestcool]

[Oh come on, he thought he was alone out here... Sometimes you need to have a manic shrieking meltdown and he knows he shouldn't do that in public, but now here you are. At least it's Tsukiyama, he supposes. Not that he has anything against anyone here, but Tsukiyama's interesting.

So he's still very high-key manic when he turns to greet Tsukiyama, but he's doing his best to settle a bit. The shaking hasn't exactly stopped but he's. Fine. Probably.]

Yeah, yeah, I'm fine! That was all just a little much!

[...At least his tone of voice is fine?]

Shuu Tsukiyama | Tokyo Ghoul

[preybeforemeals]

[Ia. Autumn...]

[Tsukiyama hasn't particularly been helping out with regards to making the food itself, but since so much of the town seems to function on willing labor, he can be found out on the fields assisting with the harvest. He isn't a slacker when it comes to physical means, perhaps surprisingly; his form may look delicate, but he's probably ripped underneath his clothes, let's put it that way.

There's more than enough to do, but it seems he's getting more and more acquainted with any of the townspeople who are willing to talk to him; granted, most of them speak of the blessings of the Old Ones, but that's okay. He's getting to know the ones who come out here often, the quiet ones that are bad with people but good with a scythe, the more restless young boys just coming of age in the field. He wants to get to know all of them, and if you're out assisting with the crops... Well, he wants to get to know you too. That's why he's approaching with water; best for you to keep hydrated, after all, it's difficult work out here.]

May the blessings upon you be many and varied! Lovely day, isn't it?


[Ib. ...Squashed]

[Those who are used to House 2 by now are likely aware that Tsukiyama is something of a night owl; working with the crops has quelled that somewhat, but not nearly as much as one would think? The man is just kind of boundless energy, to be honest, and the long fall evenings are no exception to this.

And so it is that he's out late, and there's one of those...things? It's very much a pumpkin but very much not, and it's in the street and it's looking at him, and he's looking back at it, one hand cupping his chin as he considers it.]

Do you think they're truly people on their own, or just vessels for something else, maybe?

[The pumpkin, he's referring to the... Tsukiyama, that thing is hissing at you, it's either trying to communicate or it's seriously not happy with you but you should probably pick one.]


[II. Devotion]

[Tsukiyama is...not at this with the greatest start, seeing as he refuses all food and drink offered to him before the ceremony; he does so politely and he insists, repeatedly, that he means no offense, and he'll be all right, and he just needs some time to rest before everything that's about to happen will happen. That he'll be more physically receptive to any sign from the Old Ones if he's fasting.

The concept of masks and anonymity is familiar, though, heartwrenchingly so; it reminds him of home, in a way that he's been ignoring for the majority of his time here. The chanting, too, fills him with that feeling he's generally only had in the 20th; the general feeling of safety, of knowing, of the sense that he'll live to see the next day, and the next, until the visions take over from that feeling of safety and they show him.

They show him the rain of fire and the end of days and the piles of the dead, and he isn't sure what to make of it but he knows, somehow, that he will be untouched.

And that... There's protection in that, and it drives up his desire to do something incredibly stupid.

He'll seem a little wound up that evening as he's outside; it's evident in his voice as he greets you, perhaps more so than it's been in days.]

May the blessings of the Old Ones be upon you! I should hope you're staying out of trouble tonight.

Ib

[wovensecrets]

[ And here she is, out and about in the after hours when most of the crowds have gone off to their beds. It's taken a little navigating to get closer to the house, but all the better to see someone familiar out and about as well. For a few moments she observes him... get a little close with the-- not a pumpmon. She hasn't figured out what they're called, though. ]

Hmm, maybe not human, exactly, but it hardly would take much for a stray bit of spirit to inhabit something, no?

[ She doesn't know if they have their "own" souls but she doesn't seem too put off by the fact that these creatures are roaming around instead of the more "expected" ones. ]

[preybeforemeals]

Ah - good evening, Kaori-san.

[He waves in greeting, and he does seem to brighten a bit at seeing her. Always nice to see a familiar person about, after all.

For what it's worth, Tsukiyama doesn't exactly seem put off either; a little entertained by them, perhaps, and he doesn't seem interested in fighting them, as much as this one is...well, it's clearly trying to have a go at him about something, it seems really invested in whatever black speech is happening here.]

I certainly don't think they're human; I admit that line of thought hadn't really crossed my mind. But people can still be people without being humans - they aren't the same thing necessarily, are they?

Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3

[reflectionless]

[ 1. Autumn Squashed ]

[Astarion is, at his nature, a creature of the night. He's come to appreciate the sun and the daylight so very much after two centuries deprived of it, but that doesn't change certain unavoidable truths. He is a vampire, and for a vampire, the hunt is easier at night. For the time being, he's keeping his condition something of a secret -- though Gale and Lae'zel know what he is, have known since that came out a bit awkwardly at camp -- and limiting his hunting to the local fauna. He tries to focus on the more wild wildlife, but there have definitely been at least a few sheep and cows that have been lured away from their herd and become his dinner.

Better than rats. Always better than rats.

He's coming back from a successful hunt -- and one more farmer will find one fewer sheep in his flock -- when he finds himself crossing paths with... a walking pumpkin?

Of course it has to be this pumpkin, and the familiar figure carved in there is enough that it sets of Astarion's alarm bells, and his temper.]

Oh no, none of that. Not clever and not funny.

[And that may be why you come across a pale elf in a full on brawl with a walking pumpkin. He's having more trouble with it than one would expect, but it's quicker than he would have hoped.

Or maybe you come upon the aftermath where Astarion is covered in pumpkin guts like some gourd-based serial killer, beating the former Illithid-craved squash into a pulp, screaming in frustration. He's fine. this is fine.]


[ 2. Devotion (A) - OPEN ]

[Astarion takes the mask he is offered and wears it like a good, obedient little cult-abductee. It's still obvious who he is. Even with the -- eugh -- robes and hood that half-hides his distinct white hair, the red eyes that peer out from the mask and the pale skin still visible make it unmistakable.

The food holds no interest for him, but he's found himself some liquor or another. Also not his first choice, but this isn't the place to go biting strangers. So instead he sighs and settles back to watch.]

I can't believe I'm playing games with a cult. You do realize how ridiculous this is, don't you? What exactly are they aiming to accomplish?

[It's when the chanting start that he goes full petulant child, groaning and leaning his head back against the wall.] Oh gods, free wine was not worth this. Do you suppose we can slip out unnoticed?


[ 2. Devotion (b) - CLOSED TO GALE ]

[Masks or no, he'd know Gale anywhere. The familiar scent of him the strange magic that thrums through his blood, he's come to know them well. Also there's the fact that Gale never really stops talking -- and can't the same be said for Astarion himself -- that it's not entirely difficult to track him down.

He doesn't have a name to put to the reason why he feels drawn to Gale like a moth to the wizard's utterly lethal Netherese flame. Or if he does, he's not a brave enough man to voice it. Instead he simply allows it to guide his steps. The chanting is still ringing in his ears, the fading visions. Like the world will end come the dawn, and perhaps now is exactly the time to name those unnamed things. or perhaps something entirely more foolish.

Maybe that's why as he comes up behind Gale, he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the wizard's waist from behind, tucking his chin over his shoulder.]

Gale... I'm hungry. [And he's not even entirely certain for what.]


[ 3. Clairvoyance ]

[And then the world doesn't end. Awkward.

Especially awkward in that, even without ending, the latest trick of this place seems to be filling his head with visions of the end. He sees terrible things, for the few people he's come to care about -- so few in this place and not many more even back in Faerun. But oh the end he sees, it's nauseating enough that he manages to look even paler than normal.

There is likely a very frantic, very pale looking elf running up to you barely making sense.] My face... tell me my face is normal. It isn't changing. It can't be. Not here, not now.


[ 4. Wildcard ]

(( ooc: something you fancy that isn't here? hit me up! or poke me on seasided to plot something out. ))

Hmmmm which one to choose....

[nethereseorb]

[ There was a bit of tension between them, there had been a bit of tension ever since Gale had walked outside the door and seen the locket hanging there, with the extremely passive aggressive note that had popped out, that he could do 'so much better' which arguably allowed for a chuckle from himself. Only Astarion would say that one could do better than a goddess-- but also, Gale was not sure that he deserved anyone by this point.

The visions were indeed clearing from his eyes when he felt the approach coming from the back, arms that slip around his waist and the slightly cooler breath that whisper against his neck-- as if the condescending tone was not enough of a key.

Doom, that was what the visions portended to. And such destruction it was, enough to feel real and to taste the ash almost on his tongue; he'd already had a repast and taken in some wine to ease whatever the morrow brought-- however, perhaps it was well to allow the vampire a last meal too ]

Mmmm.. I suppose I could provide a last meal. [ He is strangely quiet with regards to what would happen tomorrow, he assumes it is food.. of course he does as he shifts around in those arms to look into Astarion's eyes with his own gasoline ones; a wry smile on his lips ] I do not see how we could forestall this? The Absolute, but we had a month of learning who and what the Absolute was.. but this? [ with his free hand, he gestures all around. ]

[reflectionless]

[Well, he could. Clearly Gale's goddess had left him with a fucking bomb in his chest. He could do better. And besides, Mystra wasn't that pretty. He certainly had better hair, by far, and without a doubt a better personality.

In any case, none of that mattered right now. What did matter was that they were coming up on what appeared to be the end of all things, and Astarion was, well, throwing caution to the wind because what use was there being cautious any longer? The words last meal had him frowning, but Gale was right, isn't he?

Then Gale was turning in his arms and the wizard is talking and saying far too many words like usual. Astarion looked into those eyes, deep and dark and for once he let himself fall into it. He didn't speak, only lifted a hand to touch a cool finger along the wizard's lower lip, tracing the edge of that wry smile.]

No, I think this is out of our hands. As much as we're meant to rage against the dying of the light... if it's to be my final night, I don't want rage.

[But oh he wanted something.]

3

[wovensecrets]

Hn?

[ His approach takes her a little off guard given she's had her own issues to contend with, though there's something more familiar about him to take in. ]

You look normal. Probably - maybe a bit crazed, is that normal?

[ Sorry, Asterion - you're more of a distraction for the moment, and it's not as if she has a compact mirror on her to help. ]

[reflectionless]

...more normal than I'd care to admit these days.

[He answers with a bit of a sigh, mostly in relief. If he were sprouting tentacles from his face, that wouldn't qualify as normal, generally. It's probably best she doesn't have a compact mirror to offer. He has no reflection, and that opens up a can of worms he's not entirely ready to yet. Well, aside from his companions from home who know his tawdry little secret already.]

Thank you. I haven't been feeling quite myself since that horrid little party the cult decided to throw the other night. And I don't believe I'm the only one.

Vex'ahlia | Critical Role | OTA

[stolentrinkets]

[ autumn squashed ]

[Vex is still uneasy about this place, but has settled in to the best of her ability. The activities remind her of a harvest festival back home, something akin to what they'd see in Westruun. There's the briefest pang of homesickness just then, something to remind her that she's alone in this.

Usually it was just her and Vax, but she had to do this so she could go home to him. Go home to her family.

She carves gourds with everyone, putting on a smiling face as she hands one to a child to go decorate. For a moment, there's no impending doom despite what the townspeople speak of the Old Ones.

The night, however, brings different challenges. She's awoken by a disturbance, going outside to be greeted with these bodies that lumber like the undead. She's weaponless, so she keeps her distance, but she certainly doesn't like the look of this.]

What are we supposed to do now, be frightened by a pumpkin?



[ devotion ]

[She's handed a mask when she enters, slipping it onto her face and tied into her braid. If she's going to be here, might as well play the part. With everyone being anonymous, she can gather information in an effort to try and get home. No secret is safe when Vex is around.

The speeches feel like monologues to her, villains droning on about how the end is near and they're all going to die. It reminded her of the dragons they had just defeated back home; of Brimscythe, Umbrasyl, Vorugal, Raishan, and Thordak. Greater beings who thought they could take over the world and in the end, were felled by seven of Exandria's greatest (or luckiest) heroes. The speeches soon turn into a language she doesn't understand, and there's a comfort to them. While she doesn't believe in these Old Gods, she gets these flashes that remind her of the awareness that she's trained to feel, the confusing flashes in her mind of the end times.

The night doesn't end, however, with those around her beginning to party like the end of the world. While she's not the biggest partier, she however, will make use of the alcohol they have available. She scoots by the nearest person by the table, going to take the drink they were reaching for.] Don't mind if I do!


[ clairvoyance ]

[Vex knows she's alone here - none of Vox Machina arrived with her, nor did anyone else from Exandria. So when she starts seeing visions from the corner of her eye of her friends, she thinks it's just a trick of her eye.

Until she sees Vax getting pulled into the Shadowfell by the Matron of Ravens, trying to claw his way back to her as he screamed, the haunting mask of the Matron telling her it was her fault. Percival's body on the ground, bleeding out, with the visage of Lord and Lady Briarwood standing over him, taunting her about how she should have done a better job in killing them. The dragons having taken over Tal'Dorei, Thordak pinning her down. I will burn you as I burned your mother.

She blinks, and she's in the middle of the road, having stumbled into someone. She chokes back a sob.] F-forgive me. I'm so sorry.


[ wildcard ]

[ any other ideas? feel free! i'm on plurk at earthkingdom if you want to plot! ]

squashed

[ourtomorrow]

They don't seem violent.

[ Ken has also been roused by the hordes of gourds. He's watching them lumber about, gaze darting all over the scene, taking it in entirely. Do they respond to outside stimuli....? They have enough presence of mind to not fall over on their unwieldy limbs. And they're speaking...

He inches closer, to see if he can make out the whispered warnings. ]

clairvoyance

[reflectionless]

[Honestly Astarion is mostly relieved to see that he's not the only one going through it so to speak. His own mind has been playing tricks on him, and he does not appreciate that. At all.

So when she bumps straight into him, and nearly sobs out an apology, he's not quite as snide as he might otherwise have been.]

In this particular instance, I'd say forgiveness is easy enough. No harm's been done. And you have the look of someone seeing things that aren't there. It's a charming little trick being played on us all, I think.

Archnemon | Digimon Adventure

[wovensecrets]

[ A. autumn squashed ]

[ The early part of the day, Archnemon mostly stays away from the crowds to do some observing from a roof or up a tree instead... and might unintentionally doze off for a light nap due to avoiding sleeping nights so far. Safer, right? Unless someone takes note, of course.

Though it might explain her being out and about when it's much later on and those little gourd creations she'd disregarded earlier seem to now be a potential obstacle in the path to get back to the house. ]

Hn. Not quite like a Pumpmon...? But that is obvious. So... just don't get in my way.

[ It's muttered to herself, as she endeavors to avoid getting tangled up with any of their stray vines, but perhaps someone might be in the area with a similar 'quest'. She's not too bad at stealthy maneuvers after all. ]



[ B. Banquet ]

[ Archnemon--or Kaori, as she has introduced herself to those who ask-- isn't particularly here for the spirit of devotion, but it had been a promised banquet, something others might have heard her complain about them not being greeted with after their arrival, suspicious or not. She's appreciative of the food. Perhaps, a good place to gather information --

Or... is it. The droning is certainly something, the premise familiar in a way she does not like. She's already drawn quite a few comparisons, but there's little else for it. She's here.

In any case, she appreciates having a mask, even if it doesn't quite conceal her eyes, it feels a bit better, to have something there when she had been so robbed previously.

Now, what more was there to do? Last time at the end of the world, she was not given a choice. She did not even get to see the world end, truly, as much as all had ended around her. These 'Old Ones' certainly put a show of the illusion of safety, but she had seen what her own master had done with such power. If they were 'Chosen', then more would be asked of them... until what end?

Thinking again. No, that wouldn't do. Are those visions over yet? They're not so all-encompassing for her, skeptical as she is, and besides, mostly she gets her own flashbacks of no thank you thrown back at her, the difference only being, she at least was here. Whatever that meant. Still, she felt restless, and that just felt all amplified. Living was good, right? And what could one do with that - well, she might be feigning some cheer over it. Play along, and yet... ]

Say - it's all over now, right? Has anyone ever heard of a car around here? Let's find something with wheels and go!

[ Maybe there's some horse-drawn carriage standing around to make a heist of but she suddenly finds that she does not want to stand around here any longer without taking action. Unless you plan on stopping her little robbery, or something. ]



[ C. is for Clairvoyance ]

[ How to pretend you're not having as bad a time as you are:

Is... pretty much the motto Archnemon is trying to go by, perhaps not very successful. Even the showers aren't helping, because there's always too much time for thinking.

It'll be over soon.

How many times had she heard those words, not truly known their meaning until it at last was revealed to her? Words of honeyed comfort. Mostly, she's trying not to be nauseous. Is there something here she can kick around instead? Maybe one of those old rotting pumpkin heads from the day before, not so alive anymore and perhaps less deserving of a kick.

But, she's fine, of course, if anyone asks. If anyone dares ask. Really, the washerwomen are lucky, that to humans she'll put on her best demure smile, even if that bucket might find another use later.

... Meaning, at some point she's built herself a sort of 'person' out of mop and cloths with the bucket for a hat and will just occasionally chuck something at it. And fix it, if it starts to fall apart too much. It's not ideal. Ideally, no one will catch her at this, but... Tch. ]



[ wildcard ]

[ Feel free to chat or plot with me by dm or reach me over at shadedwhite for other ideas! ]

C

[ourtomorrow]

......Ah.

[ if you thought i WASN'T going to pick this prompt

i don't know what to tell you ]

[wovensecrets]

[ Realistically, she probably should have picked a better location for setting this up in. Too close to the houses felt too close, but there was always a chance that anyone might just come along no matter what, as though there were any ways to secure privacy here. Having mostly-shot nerves did not quite help, though.

And. She doesn't see him at first, because (someone's?) head has started to slip off, the cloths need tightening and this was stupid, but it was something to do -

When she hears someone and she abruptly turns, and seeing who it is, mop and bucket clutter down to the ground in the heap instead as the air hisses between her teeth. That Not Boy, again? She shouldn't be surprised. It was as though he were haunting her the way she must have haunted him. Funny, how that was. ]

... I swear.