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expiationlogs2023-07-13 02:36 pm
{EVENT #3} ADVERSITY 1665648.6754
| MOD NOTES: Please direct any questions to the corresponding comment below. Note that character decisions and actions taken on these prompts will affect future events, storylines, and relationships with other peoples of Expiation. You can find the OOC poll here. Please pick from the corresponding options with the appropriate character journal. If you use a personal journal or a journal not part of Expiation, your votes will not be counted. Remember that if your character did something different than what is in the prompts given, leave a comment in the OOC poll entry and link to your comment in the option made available. We will provide an IC post in exactly one week with the results of the poll that will wrap up the event. You may mingle on it if you like, but the most important purpose is to share the effects of character decisions on this event. The various prompts are, of course, optional. |
FOLLOW THE FAIRIES
On the morning of the 14th, Chosen will wake to the sound of loud clanging outside as what seems like a band of fairies has arrived to town. Most of them don’t talk, they simply stare expectantly as they float above the ground and gain the attention of the Chosen. If a character tries to speak to them, most will roll their eyes or shake their heads—some possibly using rude gestures to get their point across. They seem like they’re waiting for something, and their stubborn silence might be a problem for some of the more impatient Chosen. Characters who are nice to them might get some sass, or some eye rolling. Characters who are more impatient and try to yell, fight, or harm the fairies might find themselves… afflicted. They might not be able to hear for a while, they might not be able to see—maybe they’ll be floating in the air as if in a bubble, not able to move one way or another besides squirming and yelling at the cranky fairies. It could be a lesser affliction, too—maybe your allergies suddenly act up, or you have a massive cramp in your legs so that you can’t go anywhere. These effects don’t last long, though, only about ten or fifteen minutes. Their purpose isn’t to harm anyone, they’re just trying to tell the ruder Chosen to kindly fuck off. Other lesser status effects might happen—but the intention is never to harm, just to distract.
A larger fairy comes flying up, and the others surrounding him roll their eyes in even more exasperation than anything the Chosen would’ve gotten out of them. He sighs in an exaggerated way, before putting on what seems to be a fairy’s sort of version of a Customer Service Smile. When he speaks, he’s smiling but he sounds bored out of his mind:
The fairies behind him make a motion, almost like they’re unzipping a zipper. With a sound of tear, a hole appears in the air behind him, almost as if the scenery itself has been torn. A couple more fairies pull and stretch the tear until it’s big enough for the Chosen to walk through. If the Chosen to look through the tear, they can see that there’s a desert on the other side of it. It looks to be some kind of ruins, actually—but don’t wait too long.
Mr. Expedition isn’t too happy with hesitation.
**NPC will be available for interaction at this point!
JOURNEY TO THE DESERT
When the Chosen step through, they find themselves in the middle of some desert ruins. There’s not much on the horizon to see other than sand, and an oasis that looks like it’s off in the distance. If characters try to exit the city and go further out, they’re stopped and find themselves teleported back somehow. The fairies give a little chuckle when it happens, so maybe it was them? They can’t go further into the desert than where they’re at right now. There are stone buildings, but there are also metal remains of structures scattered around the area—just about the size of Aldrip. There’s remnants of businesses, restaurants and houses. Some are standing, and some are only remembered by a single dining room table sitting in the middle of the sand.
**NPC will be available for interaction at this point!
I. THERE'S SAND IN MY SHOES
Chosen who wander the ruins may note that it looks like some of the buildings were left in a hurry. Some of them look like people just disappeared from the inside— everything remains intact, as if nothing has been moved or taken out of the building. Plates out, covered with dust and sand, as if waiting for a lunch that’ll never come, or at the bar with liquor still in smaller shot glasses. Twinkies that have been unopened and are, somehow, inexplicably,, still good—
The remnants of the interiors are covered in thick layers of dust, but when they look inside, everything is painted. Everything is treated as a mural, from the inside walls to the outside. From religious figures, partial landscapes, and even some cartoon-looking characters—there’s a little bit of everything painted. Nothing seems to be just plain, almost as if the people who had lived there had considered everything a blank canvas. There may still be buckets of paint that characters find still hanging around, dried up from disuse, but still there. Beneath piles of rubble, the Chosen can find canvases, easels and other art supplies, most in various states of disrepair from age.
Besides paper used for art work, it doesn’t look like there’s much in the way of books or newspapers.Instead, they’re able to find something that looks almost like a smartwatch: sleek, with minimal interface, but when touched, they activate a few seconds of what looks like decayed hologram log.We have to work together! We can’t let them separate us— The hologram disappears. The Chosen can fiddle with this device and try to restore the hologram, but it just repeats the same distorted words over and over in a loop.
Besides the watches are what look like datapads that are found around the buildings as well. Touching them will cause the screen to flash in and out, almost as if there’s something wrong with their wiring. But words on a screen can be found intermittently—Those bastards, they left us THEY LEFT But wait… You feel a sudden chill down your neck. Are you being watched? Was that a shadow moving from the corner of your eye? You look, but don’t see anything. No, that’s silly. Mr. Expedition is the one watching you. Of course. That’s all it was
Of course.
II. LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED
The Chosen are a thorough bunch, aren’t they? As they continue to investigate the ruins, they’ll be able to access places like pantries, drawers, closets, and basements that are still roughly intact. Kind of. There are various things in these nooks and crannies: characters will be able to find various sundries like money, or sheer metal, or old dilapidated clothing. Jewelry boxes may still have earrings or necklaces, tool boxes may still have tools inside, things like that. A lot of it is personal, tucked away in storage, waiting for owners who have seemingly not returned. Some of it is useless junk: broken toys, half-disintegrated candy wrappers, and the like.”You might want to keep those items for later.” Mr. Expedition says this over the Chosen’s shoulder, but when they turn around, he’s gone again.
What he doesn’t warn for… are the traps. There’s tripwire, and devices on the doors to ensure that they’re not messed with. What kind of traps?
Well, they’re mostly harmless.
Most of the traps are just pranks: trap doors springing open beneath a character's feet, a loud burst of firecrackers upon opening a drawer, pie-in-the-face pranks with pie shells that have long since dried up. There is an endless variety, and nothing causes more than light bruising or startling. What will the Chosen pick up? What traps will they end up springing? Well, that's up to you.
THOSE WHO COME AT NIGHT
As Mr. Expedition mentioned earlier, there are some… people hanging around. Or are they people at all? Sometimes it can be as simple as a shadow, a trick of the light...others look as if they’re merely ghosts. Whether the Chosen try to talk to them or not, they don’t say much.
Why us?
Why why why why why
It’s nothing that really makes sense to the Chosen… so maybe it’s not that important to interact with them. Right?
As the day gets darker and it turns to night, the figures become more tangible. Their forms become clearer, now: what looks like people with strange but possibly familiar markings running along their skin. They’re probably unnerving enough, with their incoherent speech that just gets louder and louder.But they're not the only concern here: the bigger problem is that something else is becoming more tangible, too. These creatures might have been humanoid, once: they seem to have two arms, two legs, and what looks like a head…but all of them look fuzzy, almost like they're half-there, with indistinct features and black holes where their faces should be. Even if they don't have mouths…they still scream when they attack.
III. DESERT'S HAUNTED
These creatures see the fairies—and anyone who might be accompanying them—as a threat, and they react accordingly. The marked humanoids ("Oh, ew, Infected!" Mr. Expedition will hastily explain, if asked), who had barely paid attention to the visitors earlier, turn more hostile at the sound of the screams, almost as if the shadowy mutations are encouraging them to join the attack. Curiously, their markings become more prominent at the sound of the screams, as well. They all seem averse to light, which might be why Mr. Expedition has encouraged the Chosen to stay close to camp. The campfire provides refuge from all of the hostile creatures, but for those enterprising enough to try exploring at night…well, good luck."Ah, yep, there they are," Mr. Expedition ponders aloud, ducking behind a group of the Chosen. "Now, let's see. What was I supposed to tell you about them? Hmm…something about 'the attack'." And then, just like that, he's gone again.How helpful.
Chosen who attack the Ghosts will find this to be a futile effort: weapons, magic, and objects lobbed at the creatures are absorbed in the black void of their bodies. Physical attacks with fists and the like are repelled: the Chosen will find themselves thrown several feet away after trying.
The Infected, as Mr. Expedition called them, do not seem to be invulnerable. The Chosen are able to attack and push them back with weapons, magic, and physical attacks, which can prove fatal to them. When they die, their bodies disappear from the field moments after they're struck down.
Both the Ghosts and the Infected are able to hurt the Chosen, tearing at them with claws. The wounds caused by these creatures seem normal enough, but are invulnerable to magical healing, and take a strangely long time to heal…
IV. KNEW THAT'D COME IN HANDY
"Aha! I got it!" Mr. Expedition cries, reappearing over the Chosen a few minutes later. "Be nice! Remember the attack! And items have power!" He bows, as if he's made the most helpful announcement in the world, and then disappears again. So…what does that mean? And why did he wait until now to even say anything?
Chosen that are able to think quickly may remember his words from earlier about holding onto some of the personal items they found in the ruins. They might also remember how some of their ranks had been Branded before, and how selfless acts helped them overcome those struggles. The Infected may stand down when they're held back from hurting others, or given a possession that someone found earlier. If given a personal item—any personal item—from the ruins, they pause their fighting, their faces going blank for a few moments. The markings begin to face, and they collapse on the ground. they're still alive, but unconscious.
The Ghosts are more formidable. They don't have the same reaction to the personal items, but they seem to be strongly affected by acts of protection. Witnessing the Chosen exhibiting these acts of kindness is what ultimately gets a Ghost to stop in its tracks. These creatures are too far gone to revert to a humanoid form, though—if their tastes are met, they simply fade away.
THOSE WHO STAYED BEHIND
We get it, not everyone trusts fairies. Those who choose not to go on the expedition to the ruins might find things eerily quiet in Aldrip. There are a few fairies who stay behind and continue to coax the ground back to life, of course—and just as before, they encourage the Chosen to help them do so.
But if they're paying attention, the Chosen might notice that something is amiss. Parts of signs on buildings have blinked out of existence. Some of the local residents of Aldrip act as if they're lagging. Some even flicker in and out of existence…but that's fine, right? Nothing to worry about.
Right?
V. IT'S NOT A BUG, IT'S A FEATURE
For those who have stayed behind, there's plenty of work to do in Aldrip and the surrounds. Buildings still sit in disrepair after the last event—haven't the locals been working on that? no? what have they been doing all this time?—and decayed wood and underbrush need to be removed from Pessiria Forest.
Now would be a great time to begin working on building up new things, too: plenty of Chosen have been talking about building homes or dorms to ease the pressure on the Inn, and some of the locals still whisper concerns about what happens if refrigeration fails again. Do they have enough crops to feed everyone, after that giant monster withered so much of the area? Where are you going to put all that debris, anyway? And what about the paths between towns that still lie in disrepair?
Unfortunately, the Chosen are almost entirely on their own for this. The people of Aldrip seem particularly helpless in the face of change, and some even seem to freeze up at the thought of helping out…wait. Are they actually frozen? They're not blinking. Or moving. …Oh, they're fine now.
This is fine!
VI. FUCK IT, WE BALL (WILDCARD)
Just because there’s not a prompt for it doesn’t mean that your character’s actions aren’t acceptable. If you wish to do anything that hasn’t been directly addressed by the prompts, leave a message for the mod team to say what your character would do. If you choose to go down this path, note it as a comment on the OOC poll when it goes up, and leave a link to your threads so that we can take all actions into consideration for the next State of the Game.
Ethlyn | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War | OTA
[Ethlyn hadn't had much time to think about what was through the portal, not with their fairy guide chivvying them along so urgently. It hits her when the heat does--like an enormous weight pressing down from her scalp down through her entire body, her feet sinking slightly into the ground.
The desert.
Her breath catches in her throat. The light, the heat, the scent of baking sand fills her senses. Instantly she looks up and winces away from the sunlight, but the sky is empty. Of course it is. This is another world. It isn't Aed.
All the same, she's glad to have a physical excuse to be sweating.]
R-right... right. [She brushes her bangs out of her eyes and squares her shoulders.] They're just ruins. It's nothing to worry about.
[That ignores what their fairy guide said about beings, but Ethlyn is less worried about ghosts than she is about more tangible foes. Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to step forward into the abandoned town.]
II. Turn every stone
[The town is sad and desolate. Ethlyn gets the feeling, as she moves through the sandswept streets and homes, that she is walking through an open coffin. She keeps expecting to see bones peeking out from the drifts and rubble.]
This place has been empty for years... but it seems as though the people who lived here may have escaped whatever happened to make them leave it. I don't see--I don't see any remains, do you?
[Or perhaps you find her inside one of the dusty houses, she finds one of the little watches with the square glass face and jumps when her touch awakens its voice. A device like their amulets?]
What--what is this? Is this the only message?
[She begins poking at it, prodding it, trying to make it work the same way as her amulet does--this technology is unfamiliar to her, but there must be some method to have it give more.]
III. Those who come at night
[The temperature has dropped precipitously with the sunset. Ethlyn often wondered if ghosts are real or the product of fear and imagination... now she has her answer.
She wishes more than ever that she had brought her Light Brand with her. Her plain iron sword seems inadequate against these unearthly souls, and she's not keen to be wounded again. So while she keeps her sword unsheathed, she doesn't get closer--except if she sees someone else who looks like they need help.]
Are you all right?! Hurry--we need to keep away from these--these spirits.
IV. Wildcard!
ii
[ At least Ange can agree on that, actually answering the question rather than ignoring it when it's asked of her. It's not exactly like she's here to be social, but-- on the other hand, it seems like they all need to work together to find out what exactly happened here. It's not like it's possible for a single person to look at every clue, after all.
So she's willing to cooperate here, glancing over at Ethlyn. ]
Though it's possible they all died in the same place, or that all their bodies were dumped somewhere. [ .. sorry, Ethlyn.. It probably doesn't help that Ange says it with such a calm tone too, like she's talking about something completely normal and casual. The weather, or something along those lines. ] So there could be a whole lot of remains in one place, and then nowhere else in the village.
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I'm not seeing signs that there was a fight in here. [If bodies were dragged out, then there would probably signs of a struggle with whatever killed them. Although this far after the fact--because it's clearly many, many years after the fact--they may not be able to tell the difference between that and the ravages of time.] I suppose they could have run to shelter somewhere that--failed them.
But they also could have made their escape. I don't think that's so far out of the realm of possibility.
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.. It's like a catbox.
[ Ange says a little under her breath - still audible, but it sounds like she's talking more to herself as she's saying that, rather than it being aimed specifically at the other.
Though Ange turns her head to look at the other a moment later, properly addressing her. ]
I guess the true question is why those fairies would even send us to a place that has clearly been abandoned a long time ago. They said this place needs to be recovered, but..
[ She extends a hand, gesturing at their surroundings. ]
I'm not sure what there even is left to recover here.
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[A box for cats to live in? Wait--no--like the boxes people in Aldrip have for their pet cats to relieve themselves in? Ethlyn looks around. Apart from there being sand everywhere, she doesn't think she sees a resemblance.
She's not sure she was really supposed to hear that, either. On reflection in seems like Ange was talking to herself. Ethlyn applies herself to the second idea instead.]
I would have thought he meant some kind of heirloom, or records, but he said the area needs to be recovered. [She runs her fingers over a tabletop, leaving trails in the dust.] Do we need to reclaim it, somehow? Plant a flag, or the like?
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Not that it's very private, or that she minds explaining, but Ange does know the explanation is bound to go into a whole lot of philosophical mumbo-jumbo, and this is really neither the place nor time for that.
Especially when Ethlyn brings up a good point. ]
When they say 'recover', it almost sounds more like there might be some sort of curse on the land, right? [ Granted, Ange isn't really thinking about this from a war kind of perspective, considering she's never experienced anything like that.. ] But I guess that's not something we can just see by looking at the ground.
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No, but we can look for clues. Maybe these people wrote something down--it's hard to imagine that they would have had to leave completely without warning. [She begins opening drawers in a nearby desk. Ancient pens and pencils, crackling old shopping lists for the market...] They left a great deal behind, it seems.
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[ From what Ange can see, anyway, as the girl allows her gaze to sweep the room from where she's standing. Sure, the culture of this place seems to be different from the one back in her own world, much the same as things are in Aldrip, but even with that difference she can recognize: ]
It's like they just had to leave on the spot. [ No time to take anything with them.
Ange isn't quite looking through drawers the way Ethlyn is, but she is walking around a little to look at everything. ]
I wonder if they actually had time to write anything down. Maybe if one of them was worried about a family member that wasn't present in town that day and wanted to leave them a note, or something like that.. [ Of course that's where Ange's mind goes first, given her own situation - but she can't imagine it'd be totally uncommon either way. ]
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I think you're right. They must not have had any time to pack for a journey. [Otherwise they surely would have made some effort to pack clothing, valuables, anything else important that they could fit into a bag.] But yes, someone must have written something down...
[She manages to rattle open a drawer as they're speaking, mostly by accident--there's a snap and the deteriorated lock fails. After a moment of hesitation, she reaches in and pulls out a few random items--including a thin, journal-type book.]
Ah--look! Maybe there's a clue--[She makes to open it, but she can feel the ancient cardboard start to snap as she lifts the cover.]--but it's very brittle. We'll need to take care.
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.. not that she's touching the thing just yet. Especially right after the other said it's brittle. Ange isn't enough of an idiot to just go ahead and grab it and turn it into dust.
Even though that doesn't make its state less of a pain to deal with. ]
I don't suppose you've got any specialised instruments with you for this sort of thing. [ Judging by Ange's very dry and deadpan tone, she knows that of course no one here would have that sort of thing on them.. Especially after they got rushed through the portals by those fairy creatures. ] Maybe there's something in this pile of stuff here that's delicate enough to turn the pages without crumbling them.
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Let's have a look. [She gently lifts the journal out and places it with equal care onto the desk so she can have a rummage around the drawers.] I wouldn't have thought about special instruments in the first place. Still, there might be something...
[Something turns out to be a yellowed plastic case whose faded leters proclaim it to be an eyeglass repair kit. Another cracked and flaking case nearby holds the glasses themselves... the screwdrivers and tweezers in the kit are rusty, but otherwise intact.]
You think this would do?
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II
[Asking from personal experience. An Aldrip merchant he killed with his own hands was mysteriously brought back to life. He, too, remembers losing consciousness to a fatal wound from a fellow Chosen, then miraculously waking up several days later as if coming back from a coma. No remains to be left.]
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[Maybe even other remnants, with the air as dry as it is.]
sorry for the huge delay . .;
There's a sound akin to a short, bored sigh as he fiddles with one of the devices resembling a tablet, impassively watching the cryptic words loop.]
What if that assumption is wrong?
no worries!
1
Ethlyn may hear a sharp yell of surprise before she runs across the man himself: he's furiously scrubbing at his face with his sleeve at the dry remains of an old pie-in-the-face trap. ]
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She skids to a halt when she sees Emet-selch standing there, looking uninjured except perhaps to his dignity as flakes of dessicated pie scatter around him.]
What--er--what just happened? Are you all right?
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What sort of infantile trap is this?! And for a mere door!
[ A relatively normal door as far as he can tell, too. ]
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It looks like it used to be a pie... a very long time ago. [She's seen people hit each other in the face with fruit pies. Specifically, jesters, at festivals and feasts. And the sheer absurdity of a cheap slapstick joke being in such a grim and desolate land--that of all things to find here, he'd find that--she has to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle before it bubbles over.] Well--if it was so important to booby-trap--[okay no she's got it, okay]--we should look, right?
Unless you're injured?
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Thankfully the floor seems to be devoid of any obvious traps. Every surface of the room is coated with dust, which answers the question of why that pie had been all flake and no filling. Emet-Selch pauses in the centre of the main room, glancing this way and that with a frown. ]
Were these people spirited away in the middle of their day?
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...It looks like it. [She draws her hand away, looking unsettled again.] I know of magic that can send one person to a different place. So it must have taken a great deal of power if that is what happened.
[Not unlike, she thinks, the amount of power needed to get all of the 'Chosen' here in the first place.]
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[ He doesn't look happy about it, because the only person with any familiarity on the subject of bringing people across worlds is someone who is determined to thwart his plans. ]
And I suppose the fae will be of no help considering they need us to investigate in their stead.
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[So saying, she moves--cautiously--around the room. It's filled with small desks, a classroom for children. Ethlyn pokes around and lifts the wooden lids, searching for anything that might provide a hint of where they went. Curiously, she doesn't find primers and paper--she finds old watercolor sets, the colored disks cracked and powdery. Crayons half-melted into each other, broken pencil stubs.]
...It's all for artwork. How curious....
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[ He stirs some of the abandoned crayons with the toe of his boot. Even if he doesn't recognise the exact thing he's looking at, it's clear what he's looking at when the room is taken as a whole.
There is yet some evidence of bored scribbles on the hidden corners of tables. ]
I suppose the children were in the midst of recreational activity.
[ Emet-Selch's expression doesn't change but he seems more subdued somehow. ]
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Her stomach twists, thinking about Altena--Altena screaming, the last sight of her fading from Ethlyn's eyes. Was it like that for the parents here? At least whatever happened, it wasn't their own fault...
It takes her an effort to recollect herself and where she is.]
We're supposed to snoop, according to the head fairy. I suppose that means going through all the desks and drawers?
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