goodmorrow | Event: Arrogance is in Everything I Do

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Event: Arrogance is in Everything I Do

arrogance is in everything I do

a cold wind | devotion | beautiful things | ooc notes

if you think my winter is cold

A Cold Wind For the last several weeks, the village has been blessed by visions of the future and of the gourd-creatures that came to visit at night. But that all appears to be taperiong off entirely. Townsfolks disposed of the carved pumpkins once they started to spoil, and the monsters subsided accordingly. For now, at least.

Since then, the temperature has been steadily dropping. The standard novitiate robes increasingly feel thin against the elements, though those who have achieved higher levels will find thicker outerwear provided to them, progressively ornate in accordance with rank. Some of the veterans who refuse to pledge to a higher rank try to spread word of places outside of town where beasts can be hunted for their pelts, though the native townsfolk all advise against following the suggestions of "those rascal vandals," if asked. They insist that nothing good lives out there.

But there does seem to be a bonus for those brave enough to venture out into the verdant patch between the graveyard and the monastery, a boon to those seeking a bit of extra warmth, a protein other than the stews and soups usually offered, or just a new adventure. Though they aren't always visible, a patient hunter might notice a faint scratching sound just before a patch of soil unsettles itself. That small warning is all they'll have before a thorn-pelted creature digs its way up from underground and bounds onto the grassy knoll. They are enormous beasts, standing at more than half the height of an average man. They also seem to be more earthen than a traditional Dire Wolf, with pelts that appear far more akin to vines and branches than traditional canines. But those that slay such massive beasts will find that their skin can be pruned down into a coat as well as any normal wolf pelt. The meat cooks up just as well, if the taste is a bit gamey. At the very least, it's an animal that provides its own garnish.

opulent and imperial

Devotion The Devotion ceremony this lunar cycle focuses on revering the gifts received from the Old Ones. Ornamentation is the order of the day, and the church officials have spared nothing in their elaborate decoration of the devotional space. The hall is opulent, dazzling in the precious metals and gemstones draped over nearly every surface. Even the masks issued to devotees are gold and silver, often encrusted with heavy stones. Some revelers wearing robes of higher ranks are also wearing ornate neckpieces to allow for additional support to prevent their heads from bowing under the weight of their personal decorations.

The speeches this month explain the connection. Out of all the riches and finery that the Old Ones have brought to Revelbrooke, none are more precious than the pilgrims from other worlds. They are the true vessels of the will of the Old Ones, destined to bring their village into a new era. And for this proof of Devotion, they pray in thanks and appreciation for these gifts, which the town will watch over and polish until even the most rebellious novitiates have accepted the Old Ones into their hearts.

As silly as the intelligible portion of the sermon might sound, something feels strange when the elders slip into chanting in the tongue of the Old Ones. The travelers from other worlds will begin to feel an odd sort of rigidity settle over them. Perhaps at first it feels like the urge to sit up a little straighter, or to speak more formally than they normally would. But somehow, by the end of the sermons, all this finery makes much more sense. Of course this celebration is for them. Why isn't every Devotion dedicated to them? They are the gifts from beyond the stars, aren't they? It's high time that they are recognized for what they are.

This air of nobility will remain with them for the remainder of the evening, as even the sloppiest fishmonger novitiate is careful to use every utensil for its intended purpose and sip drinks with a pinky out. Surely everyone will remain polite and full of decorum, lest the festivities end with a proper midnight duel. Proper swords would be provided in such a case, but the church officials would really prefer that conflicts not go quite that far...

Unfortunately for those who skipped the Devotion ceremony, the attendees will return to their homes still carrying themselves with an overblown arrogance that they won't start to shake until they've gotten a good night's sleep. Hopefully there aren't any peas under their mattresses to keep them awake and cranky until their pretty princess needs are met.

rich in keepsakes

Beautiful Things Normally, the Devotion is easily discarded with no real outward indication that one was in attendance. But this time, there is no hiding that one went to hear the elders speak, regardless of how they feel about the experience when they return to their senses. From the moment they wake after their post-Devotion cooldown, they'll find an ostentatious gemstone embedded in their foreheads. Likewise, their robes will be encrusted with matching stones, marking them as precious and delicate, the blessing of the Old Ones. Trying to remove the head-stones will prove itself a dangerous endeavor: the skin around the stone feels more like a smooth, hard porcelain, and is apt to crack before it will yield the glittering mark.

For the first few days, it might just exist as a gaudy annoyance. But over time, that hard feeling spreads, leaving a sense of being hollowed out somehow. If they're the type to study their religious texts, they might find themselves losing focus mid-verse and instead begin whispering in a tongue they haven't learned yet, manifesting the moaning, slurping sounds that pledge themselves to be an empty vessel for the Old Ones to use. The fits are temporary, and can be interrupted by an onlooker, but engaging in such prayer will make their gemstone take on a faint glow, giving the rest of their face a gaunt and sunken-eyed look in comparison.

After about a week, the gemstone-marked are nearly untouchable. The townsfolk are kind enough to send extra portions and blankets since so many of them report feeling unwell, but none of it seems to help with the feeling of hollowness. Moreover, the mark seems to have left them afflicted with a physical fragility as well. The threat of skin cracking around the gemstone is very real now, and has spread throughout their entire bodies. Even though they can move normally enough, their bodies have grown almost glasslike in durability. A bad fall could shatter a person's leg into pieces too small to set back together, and a simple game of tag could quickly turn lethal. But that too is the will of the Old Ones. Their pretty vessels are not built for roughhousing. Perhaps they are best left on a shelf until this too passes.

ooc notes

With apologies for the holiday-related delay on this post, please enjoy our event to carry us from late November into the start of December.

What's that I hear? You wanted to murder a giant wolf? Well have some stats for it, if that's the sort of thing you find helpful when threading out combat.

It seemed like a few folks were interested in having some deaths facilitated, so there might also need to be some parameters about that fragility curse in the back third of the event. Essentially, people affected with gemstones will slowly find their bodies taking on the properties of fine china, with all the risks that material normally entails. After a certain point left to player discretion, they are literally breakable. If someone with an advanced case is injured enough to break, there will be no blood or internal organs damaged; they're literally hollow with nothing inside of them. If you want to play out a broken/damaged limb or small injury that's put back together with some krazy glue and desperation, it will heal after the event but leave scars along the repaired lines. It's up to you if a completely broken body creates an immediate death or if the head can keep functioning independently until the event naturally wears off, at which point the broken person-pieces will become a pile of gore that needs to be scooped up. In cases of resurrection, the church officials will also take shards of broken novitiates and restore them within the normal death/rebirth timeframe.

Happy RPing! See you in a few weeks when the next TDM rolls around.

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"Oh? Right..."

It was surprising - almost startling, really - to hear his voice all of a sudden, rough though it may have been, as she quickly braces herself to not risk losing more of the logs. While she often struggled to admit when she needed an assist, it balanced with not having seen him around. Maybe having him take an action would help in grounding him more, at least that was how things often worked in her perspective. She wasn't certain what had taken place, but she knew if someone was shutting themselves away it likely was due to some form of mental torment on their part.

"Then, could you make sure the doors are open for me so I can refill the stores? There's more outside, if this isn't enough. They got... quite low."

"Absolutely."

Gale found himself picking up log after log and then once he had placed them in the little holder by the hearth, he moved to the door in order to stand in front of it so that Kaori could come in with the kindling. He felt a bit tired and definitely weak, but he found that if he did not precisely think about Astarion, it'd be all alright.

Right now he was putting his energy in assisting, any questions or statements could wait. Business first.

"Good."

The sooner she could get situated with getting the wood in stores, the less time to be spent concerned that the hearth might become... dearth of it's current flame. Not that it felt as though it were doing too much, with how poorly insulated the place felt in spite of all of her efforts.

Once the holder is filled, she nods for him to lead her toward the kitchen so they can finish the job.

This must be what the vestals at the city temples much feel like, tending the flame so that it did not go out, it was rather harder than it looked all told. And so Gale would endeavor to assist as much as possible, the woods being deposited into the holder and then the stove in the kitchen was ceremoniously fed. It was a small cozy kitchen so it usually retained the heat fairly well.

"I am sorry that I have not been around, it was.. ah.. Astarion."

The circles underneath his eyes said as much, as well as the paleness that had nothing to do with the cold.

This sort of thing was new to her as well, but in lieu of it not getting done, her instinct had been to do something about it. Even if there was something unwieldy by having to abruptly learn how to use the axe to get results. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, too focused on the task at hand, but now there was weariness to fight, as she positions herself close to the stove for heat.

Which makes processing Gale's context slightly more challenging. Certainly something extreme had to occur for his reaction, and she'd not seen Astarion around...

"What happened? You've seemed depressed instead of angry. Did your fight get worse?"

"He's dead..."

That was all that Gale said as he reached for the packet of tea leaves and attempted to sort them out as best as he was able, there was a dullness to the action though. "When I attempted to search him out to see if we could work it out, he was already breaking into so many pieces." he could still recall it, the way that the vampire had splintered.

"I managed to ask him for forgiveness for my pride but I."

And emotions were welling up and that was his hubris for a tear was starting to slide down even as he stuffed tea leaves into the strainer, with definitive purpose.

"What? He's... dead?"

It was news that hit in way that she was not entirely prepared to process, because on one layer it's entirely sudden, on the other, it's brushing up against a trauma she's been actively avoiding, that one person might have pushed the issue on but he seemed to be missing too. The realization puts an ill sensation in her stomach that she does not like as she braces against the nearest counter. Her imagination can fill in the rest; she'd certainly noticed his doll-like features once he had the jewel embedded but hadn't expected it to truly be so literal by the end.

"Breaking into little pieces, that's -- awful."

"Ah.. yes, I am afraid he is."

Which explained the way that Gale had been noticeably absent for days upon end, how he even now had shadows underneath his eyes, that managed to extinguish those goldish lights out of hazel eyes. "It felt pretty definitive to me." he was sure, of course he was sure because this had not happened, he had no clue exactly how the Elders treated life and death. He poured the tea as calmly as he was able to and then slid the cup across the wooden counter.

"We resolved it before the end but.." it felt so hollow, and he had felt so helpless. "There was nothing that I could do. ultimately there was absolutely nothing I could do." and he had been so scared, had begged for Gale not to leave him alone.

She slams a hand down onto the counter suddenly, just narrowly missing the offered cup, though it wobbles and nearly spills.

"Nnn..."

It's a frustrated sound, her head swimming with this new information, confronted with similarities but nowhere for it to go. Gale's grief was almost palpable, and as aloof as she could be she could not bring up that cold front in this moment.

"It just seems - unfair." She mutters, haltingly. "To not have had a chance."

"You are right, it is not fair." he says this quietly and with much solemnity, the voice soft in the way that he was speaking of Astarion as if honouring the dead that was the vampire. "It is not fair considering that Astarion attended the devotionals, and was.. as far as I could discern, not unhappy with attending."

Now, Gale was not going to martyr Astarion. The man could be a prick at times, but likewise Gale knew that he could be a bit sanctimonious so he was not unmindful of the balance there. "It makes me further question what their ends are-- what they hope to achieve?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

She hops up to sit on the counter, finally noticing the offered cup and taking it up deliberately against her frayed nerves as if the action of doing something might help the mental disturbance.

"They want to create a new world, and don't really care about how they use others to get it. They might want you to think you're lucky enough to survive if you just do what they say, only to take it away. It's not fair because--they made him fragile, without warning, and all for what? Listening?"

"Yes..."

He could not fault her with thinking that, in fact Gale would come to the very same conclusion when it came down to it, he took a sip of his own tea cup which tasted of earth and something grounding within. "They see us as expendable souls, I suppose that within the goal to bring back their gods that they've foretold, they will do anything--"

Which honestly, made him just as sick to his stomach that Astarion was but a casuality. He did not know yet that Astarion would be brought back, did not know that the price was the memories.

"That's how it is."

What she wants right now is to be on a swingset for all the coiled, frustrated energy even with all of the work bringing the wood inside. Still, she forces herself to remain holding the tea cup tightly, staring into it.

"You could do everything they want and still just be little more than a toy until the end."

This, this was why he admired Kaori-- for her pragmatism and her ability to stay the course. She used her angry heart in a viable manner, she used it as much as she was able, and his eyes softened even as he reached over to put a hand on her shoulder. The feeling was firm and it was alive, slightly warmed from where he had been holding the cup.

"You are a good person Kaori, a very good person." he did not know anything of Kaori's past however it did not matter, because her actions have proven her to be a reliable and trustworthy friend and he was ever grateful for that. It was discerned in his eyes.

Kaori can't help her brief moment of needing to process his comment, allowing some of the anger to give way to the slight sensation of bashfulness. She'd never been called that before and certainly wouldn't think of it for herself, and her understanding of praise usually was of something fleeting with something buried underneath, though that hadn't been the case with Gale so far. From his expression and warmth, she notes that he seems a little bit more pulled together than he had at the start of this, bad news aside, though she's not too certain what her part in that was.

"Eh... what a thing for you to say, all of a sudden." She murmurs, though even surprises herself with what she says next. "It's... nice to have you back out here."

"I needed a little bit of time." he murmured apologetically.

There was a definite uptick to his own mood, and it was perhaps that he had just needed some tea. There was something there underneath the surface in regards to Astarion that it was best not to delve too closely into but at least right now he could function passably.

The morning light was still glaring and harsh, cold to the touch but he was ready at least for a little bit to broach the land of the living. "I am back though I daresay it will take more time."

Now that she knew the reasoning behind his disappearance, it made more sense to her, even if she was not used to being in the position of being understanding. Even so, she also knew that dark emotions could be miring, even if she would make it a point to push herself to be active instead of dwell.

"... That's fine, as long as you don't get too lost again. That can be dangerous, you know."

"Yes, I will make an endeavor to join you and everyone else in the household, in the land of the living." he said this with a smile, and he understood that it was likely hard for Kaori to bear this all on her own, he wanted to be here as a support and not as an ankle weight. "If I died, I feel that would be something that they would want."

Why else would they orchestrate such things for them to face if not the expectation of death? It was far more noble to push through and press on.

"Right."

As long as it meant he wasn't hiding away anymore, he could rationalize it however he needed to.

"Although, speaking of the household... at least for the last few days, no one else has been home."

He looked around at the quietude and then he folded his hands together even tighter around the cup. "Do you know where they are?" he was curious, were they dead too? Did something happen to them? So many various mysteries and he did not have the answer and thus he was hoping that perhaps Kaori could shed some light on that.

No stretch to say he had been grossly out of the loop. He knew it and so did Kaori.

"Not in the slightest. At first I thought I was just missing them coming in, but it's just seemed off somehow."

She knew Gale had taken one of the rooms, and unless someone else had holed up with him by choice, the other bedroom had been fairly untouched aside from her blanket fort.

"But, we don't really have anything to keep in contact with around here, maybe they decided to move? Or... someone decided for them."

She wouldn't put it past the monks or old ones being suddenly pushy about it, if some of their Chosen were avoiding devotionals while others were attending. A little more optimistic than some alternatives, but there was no evidence either way.

It was almost like the Elder Ones had perceived who the troublemakers were.

And it was Gale and Kaori.

Not that Gale was complaining, and not that Gale would stop. But it did make sense that they would want to split the devote from the non-devote. Gale had the room to himself (he would be happy to share a room with someone, of course he would) and he had not noticed, within his grief, that there had been no one to move inside with him. No routines to disrupt-- it had been himself and silence.

"Makes sense, if I wanted to stir up devotions-- I would want to weed out the bad influences."

Meanwhile, she was alone in a room that had been intended for four. An odd experience, when she was used to having to use the floor when sharing someone else's space.

"I guess that means someone's paying attention."

To what they were doing, or perhaps in this case not doing, but some walls certainly had eyes at least.

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Event: Arrogance is in Everything I Do

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