{EVENT #3} ADVERSITY 1665648.6754

[expiationmods]

INTO THE DESERT

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.

”Good grief, how did I end up with this job today…”

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:

”Today, we’re taking volunteers to a blighted area that needs to be recovered. You may keep whatever you find there… probably. And before you ask, we can’t do it ourselves. So, if everyone’s ready–”

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.

”Please! We don’t have a all day.”
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.

"Well ? What are you waiting for? Go on, do your… thing. Be tourists! Snoop! Investigate! Engage! Or… whatever it is you do. But I’d be ready when it turns dark. Oh! You might come across people – wait, I meant beings that don’t seem quite right. They are harmless enough in the daylight, but at night? Well, I’d be careful, if I were you."
**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 me?
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.

Comments

[baldrshand]

[The alarmed shout catches Ethlyn's attention immediately, and she bolts for the source--not heeding the threat of any traps herself. Her senses, overwhelmed with terrible memories, fail to distinguish a shout of genuine danger from one of mere startlement.

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?

[emet_sulk]

[ He jabs a finger at the remains of the now-defunct pie trap. ]

What sort of infantile trap is this?! And for a mere door!

[ A relatively normal door as far as he can tell, too. ]

[baldrshand]

[Emet's outrage and indignation goes a long way into helping Ethlyn calm down, and realizing she's pressed her hand to her heart in alarm, she lowers it.]

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?

[emet_sulk]

[ He merely scowls and shoves aside the door without reply. This time he's a little more cautious venturing in. If they would trap the door with something ridiculous like pie, who knows what other mischief could be lurking underfoot?

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?

[baldrshand]

[Her laughter dies down, not because of Emet-selch's indignation but because of the question he poses when he gets back to what they're meant to be doing here. Ethlyn follows him inside cautiously, dragging her boot through the thick dust experimentally and lifting the sleeve of a sweater that's been left draped over a chair.]

...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.]

[emet_sulk]

If it was the same method as how we were brought here ourselves, they would have to be strong teleportation magicks indeed.

[ 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.

[baldrshand]

...Not to mention they aren't very good at making themselves clear in their instructions. [Shouting two or three words and flying away is not effective leadership, in Ethlyn's considered opinion.] Maybe what they need is the mundane touch--this was a human settlement, so they can't investigate it without human thinking.

[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....

[emet_sulk]

A school of some sort then.

[ 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. ]

[baldrshand]

[Ethlyn nods slowly. She can't come to any other conclusion herself. It's bad enough seeing the scattered belongings in the houses and shops. But this... she wonders if the children made it out, if their guardians were able to protect them from the disaster that befell this place.

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?

[emet_sulk]

...Aye. Let's see if there is aught of interest.

[ He turns to the nearest desk and bends to check the slot beneath it. There's nothing there besides an old, dusty exercise book which holds nothing besides some basic, mathematical scrawls. ]

Did the fae tell you what we're searching for? 'To snoop' is not exactly a precise instruction.

[baldrshand]

No. [Having to say that finally sparks an emotion other than unease and distress--her reply sounds distinctly grumpy.] I don't think he's a very good communicator. But this place has been abandoned for so long that I'm not sure how we would distinguish anything unusual from the rest of it.

[She lifts the tops of another couple of desks as she speaks. More dried-out paints and melted crayons, and she tries to look through one with more thoroughness. But the childish drawings... simple, brightly-colored scrawls of houses, and dogs, and a family... a mother and a father and two children...

Her hand jerks away, and the desk slams down, but not before something smaller and shiny falls out onto the little chair. Ethlyn doesn't notice it, but it looks like a smartwatch.]

[emet_sulk]

Indeed...

[ He glances up at the sudden, loud snap. Although his eyes do take note of the glittery object to fall out, his focus lingers on her. ]

Is aught amiss?

[ She can't be frightened, surely. She had seemed composed when they entered. ]

[baldrshand]

[Ethlyn shakes her head, but she knows that isn't the right answer. She doesn't know if it's a weakness or not to be so horrified--it isn't, right? It isn't just her own feelings about Altena and Leif that are making her feel this way. Anyone would be upset to realize the implications.]

It's just... there are children's drawings in there. And... I can't help thinking about my own children when I see something like that.

[Her own children, left to an equally uncertain fate. Ethlyn can only hope and pray that they can survive the terrible place that her homeland has become.]

[emet_sulk]

Ah, you left children behind when you were taken, did you?

[ Despite the front he puts on, he finds himself feeling a small measure of sympathy for her. He steps over and stoops to pick up the fallen item, carefully brushing its surface clear of dust and dirt. ]

...Tell me about them. Sons? Daughters? Mayhap both?

[baldrshand]

[Yes... yes she did. She'll never see them again unless they're taken here. She aches to see them again--to know that they're safe--even though she couldn't keep them safe in Jugdral, and wouldn't be any more able to keep them safe here. But at least they wouldn't be millions of miles from her, alone in a world ruled by their enemies.]

Both. [She leans on the desk with both hands, seeing them in her mind's eye. Both of them had Quan's chestnut hair, Altena with the light of Njörun in her eyes. She was so proud of how much they looked like their father.

She's about to say their names, but she can't, not without tears. They aren't in a situation where she stop to weep over her losses.] Both. A baby boy and a little girl.

I worry about them.

[emet_sulk]

Hmm.

[ He's not very...great at the whole 'showing other people sympathy' thing. Mostly because then he would start to feel guilty for what he does and he is very adamant that he does not. But he certainly understands the feeling of leaving family behind.

He fiddles with the watch, rubbing his thumb slowly across the face over and over unconsciously. ]

No father to care for them?

[baldrshand]

[No father to care for them. No. Ethlyn can't see how that would be possible. The dracoknights had cut the Lanzenritter to pieces. She can't remember if any besides Quan were still standing by the time Tavant got to her, but she doubts it--and if any did, it wasn't enough to make a difference.

No. There's no way Quan could have escaped, unless he was brought here himself.

She shakes her head. It takes another moment before she feels able to speak.]

I'm sorry. It's... difficult to talk about. But, no. They're alone.

[Leif may have Finn... if Finn survives whatever falls on Leonster, she knows Finn will do his best to keep her son alive. As for Altena, her hopes are all pinned on Travant wanting to keep her as a hostage.]

[emet_sulk]

[ Silence reigns for a short while. Emet-Selch knows he certainly doesn't have to care about any of the people trapped here with him. The last thing he wants to do is sympathise when he has a duty yet to fulfil back home which involves killing off rather a lot of mortals. That said...

He shifts his weight, annoyed by the pricking of his conscience. A memory of his earlier years as Solus resurfaces, unbidden. The pain is still (relatively) fresh. ]

I lost a firstborn son to disease. [ His gaze is resolutely fixed on the classroom as a whole. ] He barely lived to see past twenty summers. Their mother died not long after the second child was born. So I do understand what it is like to be a sole parent.