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

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!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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. ]

...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.

Right, right...

[ She doesn't quite like to admitting to feeling off, but even her own tantrums over it had been unavoidable. Seeing some of his outward imbalance was almost relatable in that way, even if she wasn't exactly used to relating. ]

Not exactly a... favorable welcome, even if they seem determined to remind us there are worse options to expect.

Well, I can't say they're wrong about that. I've lived worse options, but that doesn't mean I'm pleased about any of this nonsense.

[Because he most emphatically is not pleased by any of it and would like to be back where he belongs. Alas no one ever seems to ask what he wants. He heaves a heavy and utterly unnecessary sigh (he doesn't need to breathe, after all) and shakes his head.]

You aren't... noticing anything particularly strange currently? No unpleasant visions?

Not... right at this moment.

[ There is a slight hesitation to the words. After all, he'd approached her looking panicked while she'd just been processing something else. ]

Although, given your preoccupation with your face, is there something you need to be warned of?

Count yourself lucky then.

[He runs a hair through his hair, setting the usually perfectly disordered waves into a less purposeful disarray. He sighs, mostly at himself and his showing so much of his hand when he'd first approached.]

Oh, nothing terribly important. Just... if you see anything that looks like tentacles ruining this masterpiece... [He gestures at his face.] I'd certainly appreciate a heads up.

[ Lucky? No, she was hardly lucky at all, merely deflecting as to not dwell on her own issues. All the better for him to have a more pressing - and distracting one for her to ponder. ]

Oh-? Well that sounds terrible. And oddly specific. Nothing to do with this place, I hope?

Doesn't it just?

[Another sigh and he shook his head.]

No, this is a burden from back home. I hope it couldn't exactly follow me here, but who can say for certain how these strange kidnappings to other worlds work. It's infuriating, not knowing.

I agree. [ She lightly twists a few strands of her hair as she considers. ]

In some ways, this world seems... a suppressing sort of place, though the day of the ceremony felt different, somehow. Maybe that's something to do with it?

You might be right. That was entirely a nightmare. Do you know I left convinced the world was going to end that night?

[A scoff of a laugh.]

I'm not usually so easily duped. [A pause and he mutters,] And also not nearly so lucky.

[ She tilts her head slightly, not quite picking up on his double meaning there at least, but testing if she wanted to share her own experience. ]

Right... I had a similar feeling. Usually I wouldn't let such a thing get to me... it's obvious, they just want a way to get into our heads by shocking us with what they intend to happen, so we'll feel grateful for their intervention, yes? And yet, at the time, I just felt so jumpy. Like I had to do something, right then, or just lose my mind with how it was racing.

Yes, yes that's it precisely. It made for some... ah... interesting decisions.

[That he is still sorting out the consequences from and there's a brief wince in his expression as he thinks of the mess he may have made. Not good at all.]

I don't appreciate having my mind played with. And I'm left with nowhere productive to vent my frustrations. If only there was someone I could stab to make things better.

A little spot of violence would certainly make me feel a little better.

[ Huff. Even if this place does feel limiting in that regard, yet another frustration, to be robbed of that. ]

Though it's a little hollow without a direction. Or someone to watch your back if things go awry.

[See now that's the correct reaction. Astarion flashes her a smile, hist best and most charming.]

Exactly, you understand.

[A pause and he lifts a finger to his chin tapping lightly.] Really, we could watch each other's backs don't you think? After all, we have something of a common foe here.

[ As he speaks, her countenance brightens as well, as she even adjusts her posture to offer a polite bow for an agreement. She's not accustomed to making new allies, but she's quickly found that the nature of this place certainly necessitated that. ]

It makes sense to me. After all, who knows how much more tricky this foe may become?

They certainly hold all the cards at the moment. Which I am not fond of. What strength we have will likely be in our numbers, and whatever skills it is that we strange gathered abductees bring to the table.

[He, for example, brought skills like stabbing and sneaking and trickery.]

What better way to discover that than to get to know one another, don't you think? Won't you tell me about yourself, darling?

Hmm...

[ Such an open ended question, but luckily she was getting more practice with handling those. And she can't deny that he has a point, either; more information in any category was better than not. And she did know a little something about him first anyway; so it was only fair. Maybe. She was also a bit paranoid, so she would have to take care with her words regardless. ]

Lets see... to offer you a card, I tend to work better from the shadows, you know? I might have a knack for people watching, staying hidden, or giving others directions on what to do - that sort of thing. What about you?

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

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