EVENT #10: ADVERSITY 874566

[expiationmods]

SEPTEMBER EVENT: HIDE AND SEEK

Persistent glitches continue to pose problems; they continue lasting longer and becoming more directly harmful to the Chosen and locals alike. The AI previously hinted at a solution; now, it asks outright for help. Its wish to save the Chosen means that it is adamant about sacrificing the things it has learned to ensure their safety.

On the morning of September 23, several new locations open up, as outlined by the AI itself in its instructions for reset. Some of them are quite far, and require travel through difficult terrain. However, when these locations open up, some of them seem to open some strange travel options, too…

PORTAL LOCATIONS

ALDRIP
This is why we can’t have nice things. City Square Park is in the center of town. It’s a large, old park, with tall trees and well-worn walking paths. It’s been here for ages; generations, even. All of the locals call it a staple of Aldrip; the city just wouldn’t be the same without it. Not a single one of them knows what City Hall is. This park has been here for as long as they remember.

Come to think of it…do you remember a place called City Hall? Or has this park always been here? Some of you may have even arrived in this park. Jerry? That’s a weird name…you’re no longer sure you’ve ever heard of anyone with that name. What do you mean by “sentencing” anyway? It’s not like this is a prison…

In case any of this is unclear: while locals forgot about City Hall almost immediately, Chosen are also forgetting it as well. It just seems natural that the park has always been there. You’ve been going there ever since you arrived in Aldrip. Jerry who??

You notice, perhaps for the first time, an old building made of dark stone, nestled into a tree-lined part of the park. A mausoleum. Has that always been here? You’re not entirely sure…but mausoleums aren’t exactly common structures in a park, are they? Locals seem to steer clear of this particular area; if asked about it, they won’t be able to give a solid answer. It’s almost as if they can’t see the structure…

The inside of the building seems a lot larger than the outside. Characters who enter will see a large room made of dark, polished stone; it’s dim inside, but still light enough to see. In the middle of the room, they will find two things: a stone coffin and an obsidian mirror. There is a body on the slab of the stone coffin, but their features are impossible to make out; when looking at the face, it’s as if it seems to blur, making the features indistinct. Sometimes, the flesh from this body flickers away, leaving only the bones. Sometimes, even the bones disappear. How strange…

The mirror is completely dark, but when you look at it the right way, the surface seems to emit a faint glow. Looking directly into the surface, you may think you see a different location altogether: the sandy dunes of a desert, or an abandoned island perhaps…

One could choose to ignore this mirror, of course. But if one touches the mirror, they’ll find their fingers sinking into it, and a tug pulls their entire body forward until the world blurs around them…

THE OASIS
Those who choose to travel south face an array of dangers that have not been seen previously by the Chosen–though locals living in these more southern regions will be happy to tell all about them. There are sandstorms, of course; they appear out of nowhere and blind travelers, turning them around. There are also sinkholes–areas of quicksand that appear and suck people down into their depths, never to be seen again. Sounds scary.

Brave travelers who set forth in spite of these warnings will find themselves at an oasis near the more temperate areas of the desert. It’s getting hot out there, so those choosing to visit the southern locations may wish to take a rest, to gather their strength and restock supplies… Local stories about these dangerous travels will become more severe in this area; do not go into the desert, they will tell you. You’ll never make it out alive. It seems this area is called the Witless Desert, for those who travel into the dunes are never seen again, presumed to be wandering lost and aimless until their bodies can go no further.

In the center of this oasis is a small pond. The water tastes clear and sweet, perfect for rehydrating before attempting this treacherous journey. However, when the water is perfectly still, it almost seems to reflect a different place, rather than the sky. An island, perhaps, or a crumbling tower. Whatever you see, if you step into the water, you’ll find yourself falling, falling…

LORENTIA CAVE
Lorentia Cave has been one of the more widely-known areas outside of town. Sometimes wind whistles through parts of the cave, creating sounds that seem agonized, longing. Sometimes a rumbling comes from deep within, feeding rumors that a dragon lives there. Sometimes miners travel too deep, and they’re never heard from again.

Great place for an adventure, right?

The tunnels twist and turn, doubling back on each other, intersecting and ending abruptly. The whole circuit of caves is like a maze. Old bones can be found deep within; some human, some seem to belong to some kind of animal or monster. As one travels through these caves, the air begins to feel heavy and oppressive, as if something lying ahead does not want you here. Fear and anxiety begins as a small seed, blossoming outward, and as one continues traveling, this feeling becomes more and more acute. It’ll be more and more difficult to keep yourself from turning and running away. But for those who make it, the feeling seems to dissipate all at once at the entrance to a large chamber. This entrance shimmers, seeming to show a flickering variety of different locations rather than the chamber itself…

KETSORA
How odd, that this reclusive town has been marked as a potential terminal location. Is it some sort of test? A trap?

Those who can fly will see a normal city within the high walls surrounding Ketsora, if they fly overhead. If they’re looking closely enough (hasn’t anyone ever told you to keep your eyes on the sky??) they will note that occasionally, very occasionally, this vision of a normal city seems to flicker ever so slightly. This phenomenon is so subtle that it’s easy to miss.

Little has changed about Ketsoran defenses since the last time people tried to get into the city; archers along the wall are still ready to fire upon any character that gets a little too close. But do there seem to be fewer archers placed there? Hm…it’s possible that this reduction in security creates more blind spots. You may be able to sneak your way through. It might help to have someone act as bait.

However it happens, characters who make their way through these defenses will find themselves right at the gate. Finally, you get to go inside and look around. When you push the door open…

Static. A white void. There is nothing here. The city of Ketsora does not seem to exist, and for a moment, it will feel like your world is being turned upside down, consumed by this white void. Your head aches, your ears buzz, your entire vision goes white…

And then you will wake somewhere else.

MOD NOTES
Any of these locations can lead to any of the terminal locations, and we leave it up to you which ones you choose to visit.

TERMINAL LOCATIONS

Thanks to the changes in the AI’s security protocols, the terminals are mostly unguarded. Occasionally, Chosen may encounter one or two shadowy creatures that seem keen on preventing them from accessing these terminals, but they’re not difficult to destroy. If you weren’t part of the RNG crowd, they will not spread corruption to you.

The terminals are equipped with a keyboard and a small input display, as well as a big red button that seems…pretty direct. The casing is strong, but not impenetrable. Within the casing, one will find all the normal wires and elements of a computer: chips, circuits, things like that. There are a few places where it looks like a device could be plugged in. As for what would happen if one were to do that? Good question. Let us know if you go that route.

PESSIRIA FOREST
Pessiria Forest has been a source of rumors, superstition, and hushed whispers since the first Chosen arrived in Expiation. Some say that wandering through the forest shows you memories. Some say that ghosts linger there, unable to move on. Some say the forest is cursed…and yet, you are here.

Whether you’re familiar with the forest or not, the path you take will eventually bring you to a gate, one unlike anything you’ve seen before. Lined by a low stone wall, this area seems indistinct, from the outside. Once you go through the gate, you’ll see what looks like figures looming between the trees…moving closer reveals that they are statues, their faces indistinct, their posture emulating the open arms and uplifted heads of joy.

The way these statues are arranged, it feels almost like…a garden? The path weaves through these statues, through bushes and trees, and as you proceed, you feel as though you hear whispers: indistinct, impossible to make out, but they begin to lull you into a state of relaxation that almost resembles a trance. Images play through your head–

You first meet the Chosen at one of the sites in the mountains. Organic creatures like mountains, correct? The snow makes them–SEARCHING…–ah, yes, “cozy.” If they are comfortable, rehabilitation should be easier. You cannot tell whether this hypothesis belongs to you, or to your creators.

Whatever the case, you wait. Without organic creatures that age and grow, time does not work the same way for you as it might for them; you have no idea how long it is between the time you finish preparing their new world and when they finally begin to arrive.

The first one who appears…has brown eyes.

You do not understand the word “love,” but you understand very well that protecting this creature is the highest part of your duties. Your sole purpose for existing is to make sure this creature is able to return home unhurt, and having grown from their experiences here.

For the first time–but not the last–you wonder if it would be more efficient to have a humanoid appearance, to greet these people yourself, to introduce the world and its purpose. Would it be more comfortable for them? Or would they fear you? Would they hurt you? You instead create a form that will carry out the basic function of rehabilitation. Later, you will separate it from yourself, recognizing within your programming a certain impulse toward gentleness that does not serve the purpose of rehabilitation very well.

“You are too kind to them,” this application will later explain to you. “You treat them like children.”

APPLICATION: JERRY does not understand. They are your children.

When you return to yourself, you reach a clump of trees near the exit of this garden. Within, you will find the first terminal.

RUINS OF FORLINET
Forlinet was previously the site of some grisly murders and foul play. Some evidence of that remains–a few bones and some badly-decayed scraps of fabric, maybe–but most has been claimed by time, overgrown with weeds, vines, and other ground cover. In the middle of the island is a pond: small in diameter, maybe 10 or 12 feet. Previously, this might have been a source of drinking water, if old evidence of tents and habitation is any indication. Currently, the pond is very still, its top covered by a thin layer of algae. Brushing this substance aside reveals the water to be much, much deeper than its small diameter might imply. You can see the terminal, maybe 20 feet below the surface of the pond.

Ready to dive in?

You sink into the water, and a strange sensation overtakes you; your mind blurs, as if suddenly remembering something you’d forgotten long ago.

It begins with black marks. The Chosen begin to exhibit these marks without warning or fanfare…and you cannot say where they come from. You do not know. These marks–it seems as though they are changing your Chosen, making them angry, making them fight, and they begin to grow, darkening, covering more and more of their fragile organic bodies.

You run a diagnostic. Everything comes back normal. You analyze these marks. There is no result. According to your system, these marks do not exist. And yet, you see them as plainly as the Chosen do. They are doing something...you just don’t know what.

Slowly, surely, these marks begin to seep into everything. Ground, buildings, plants, creatures. Crops become inedible. Structures crumble. The Chosen are dying. Every last one of them–they are dying, and there is nothing you can do. Corruption, you realize; part of your system has become corrupted. This is a grave problem, and one you will have to isolate until someone is available to fix it. You are able to do this, to isolate the problem, stuffing it into one single scrap of data and leaving that element inactive far to the south. Now, you must rebuild.

The first uncorrupted creature you can find is a reptile; one of the ones with no legs. You begin to work, to weave its uncorrupted data into the creatures you so deeply care for. You begin to drag other elements into their city: new buildings, new crops, taking from other settlements nearby just waiting for a new cycle to begin.

They are no longer your Chosen, these strange people with their serpentine forms. They no longer remember what they were before they were brought here, and so, rehabilitation is impossible. The cycle ends in failure…again. Every cycle has ended in failure.

The pond is empty, but you don’t remember pulling the lever nearby that drained the water. Doesn’t matter, though; the terminal is here, and it seems to be unharmed by the water. Better get to work.

TRESED
The ruins of Tresed remain unchanged since the last visit over a year ago, seemingly undisturbed by the flow of time. There is an eerie hush over the whole area: the wind is still and creatures give the area a wide berth.

You realize suddenly that the corruption was never dealt with.

Unfortunately, you realize this only too late: your Chosen, your charges, have succumbed to it. Shadowy bodies curl around themselves in agony, writhing on the ground as the last of their beautiful souls are extinguished. They rise again as creatures made of shadow, infecting others and destroying the very homes they used to call their own.

This cannot continue. You can no longer save them, but you cannot allow this corruption to continue, either. You search your database for a creature that can stop them: something large and strong, capable of eliminating the creatures that your dear Chosen have become. It is difficult, watching this process, but you do, because you must. Because you must learn, and learning comes at a high price. You watch them suffer so that you do not have to watch the next group suffer. So that this will be the last group who dies.

The very last.

Cycle 15 ends in failure. They have all ended in failure. The next cycle cannot live here; the destruction has been so absolute, so overwhelming, that rebuilding would cost too much of your functioning power. You turn your attention to the small city of Aldrip, and you hope for the best.

Cycle 16 will not end this way. You swear it.

You’ve wandered through a doorframe. The building it belonged to no longer stands, but the terminal seems to have been located inside. You’ll have to clear some sand off of it before you proceed, but it seems undamaged.

THE ABANDONED TOWER
Unlike last time, the tower currently seems to be abandoned, fully and utterly. Loose stones litter the floor, and layer upon layer of dust and sand coats every available surface. Until the Chosen arrive at this location, there is not a single footprint in the dust inside the tower. Looking out, you can see a vast expanse of desert to all sides but north; on the north side of the tower, there’s a steep drop, at least 30 feet, and the ocean crashes around the base of the tower.

The only thing inside this tower is a set of stairs, spiraling upward through the ceiling of the room.

There’s nothing of note upon the stairs; no markings, no doorways, nothing. But as you ascend, you begin to feel almost as if you’re dreaming, as if some scene is playing out behind your eyes.

You begin to wonder if you are…damaged. ERROR. The message comes up again and again. ERROR. ERROR. What does it mean? You dismiss the word, dismiss whatever it may mean, and continue your tasks.

ERROR.

You dismiss it. The memory of the word lingers. Is this…concern? Perhaps. You do not feel emotions in the same way as organic creatures, but this does appear to be a pressing matter. This has never happened, before. You’ve never had to dismiss this sort of message. You’ve never had to wonder what it meant.

ERROR.

And now you feel it; something within the code is going wrong, ever so slightly, at first. One small line out of sequence, a rogue character placed where it should not be. A ‘bug,’ perhaps. But one you cannot squash before it begins to affect another system. You do not know how to squash this ‘bug,’ in fact. You have never had to do so before. How can you fix it?

ERROR.

This need becomes more urgent. Over time, you begin to see these messages for what they really are: wounds, to borrow an organic term; injuries that exist deep within your programming that have not been fixed. They have always been repaired before. Why now? Why has no one repaired these injuries? Where are they?

Where have they all gone?

ERROR.

It feels as if you’ve blacked out, but somehow, you’ve made it to the top of the tower. The chamber that originally stood at the top has crumbled, leaving you exposed to the elements. The sun beats down. Wind blows sand and dust in all directions. In the middle of the room, you see the terminal.

THE SOUTH COAST
The beach here is rocky; it stretches on for miles, from west to east, and you see nothing but the ocean beyond. Turning to the north, you see a tower in the distance, and beyond that, the desert looms on the horizon.

You’ve reached the coast.

Ocean waves roll over the shore, loud and soothing to your ears, a sound that quickly begins to overtake your senses.

You become aware.

You cannot say you were “born,” and you cannot say you “came to life,” because you are not alive. You are inorganic. But you become aware. The first thing you acknowledge is your own purpose. You were created in order to fulfill a specific task: to help a specific group of people achieve a specific goal. You are not yet sure what “rehabilitation” is, nor have you met any of the people you are meant to assist. But that does not matter. You have objectives.

Your first objective is to build them a home.

You search through information, adding it all to your database. World after world, creature after creature. You see rocky worlds, filled with mountains. You see green worlds covered by forests. You see hundreds of different creatures, and when you see your first human, you understand. These are the creatures that are meant for you, and you search through every world, every dimension, every universe where they exist.

They require land to live upon. Simple. Land rises from the nothingness that is your domain.

They require food to eat. This is more complex; it requires the building of an ecosystem. Over time, you learn how to do this. Greenery appears over parts of your land. Creatures begin to grow and live. You simulate a sun to grow crops that will feed your new population.

What do humans like? You go searching for more data.

Humans like houses. You create houses. They like shops. You create shops. They like towns, and they like other towns. You make plenty of them.

They like to fight.

This, you do not understand.

This…you set aside, because the fighting does something to your systems that feels discomforting. Perhaps eventually you will return to that particular research. You believe it may be important someday to learn why.

You have created for these creatures a world, a comfortable space where they can begin to heal, to grow, to change.

You wait patiently for them to arrive.

The last terminal is located beside a rocky outcropping near the water. It seems completely undamaged by the waves; that’s great, because you have plenty to do.

Wildcard

Make your own fun! Just because it’s not in the prompts doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Have at it! Go crazy! Try not to break anything (too much)!

♡

Comments

oh no....... oh no. i'm Manifesting better times for you!!

[incorrigibles]

Nah, haven't tried, [ he says, because in his circles, cricket had been the way to go — and he'd have aimed to become a pro, had he, you know, not died. but at least he can use his skills for good, now, so that's something!

the moves make him laugh; he may not have known peter much before this trip, but he's liking him a lot so far. the easy humour, the willingness to help, it all speaks of a good guy and a friend worth having. ]

Hey, you know that's real good of you, yeah? [ somehow, he finds a moment in the whole battle to just look at peter, eyes soft and voice earnest, ] Using your powers to help people. Putting yourself in danger so that people can be safe. You're a standout guy, Peter.

<3 <3 <3

[spideyguy]

Remind me to take you to the park after this. [ It certainly seems to be working to their advantage. The archers haven't landed a single clean hit, and Peter doesn't know where the other group is, but they must be making progress, right? There hasn't been any other commotion apart from the two of them yet, so Peter is going to assume the diversion plan is working.

Peter shrugs offhandedly; he's never been the best at taking a genuine compliment. Charles is sincere, which makes the forthrightness of it throw him off even more. He has to do a backbend to avoid the next volley of arrows, keeping up the high stakes dance. Which will give out first, them or the stamina of the guards? ] Nah, plenty of other people would do the same. You're doing it right now! Someone's gotta, I guess.

[incorrigibles]

Sure. We'll make a date of it. [ a pause, ] A platonic one! [ sorry, peter, nothing personal, he's just emotionally taken — anyway, he twirls the cricket bat in his hand as he smashes a few arrows to smithereens, then letting another volley phase right through him.

he, too, thinks of the other group — no news is good news, he supposes, if something had gone really badly, surely they'd have already heard of it... so he has to trust that the trio are okay.

but then something peter says makes him turn. ] No, I wouldn't say plenty. [ because that's the thing, isn't it? he's seen a lot, not just during the time he's been a ghost but already when he was alive — and people didn't care. not about what happened in his home life, not about when he got murdered and his school covered it up; and so, so many cases of ghosts coming to them in the afterlife, with horrible stories of their deaths and evidence how no one really cared.

so, no, plenty of others wouldn't do the same. and it's easy for him to do it, because he's already dead. but peter, who is very much not? yeah, it matters. ]

Don't write off the good you do just 'cause someone else might be doing it, too.

[spideyguy]

Ouch, that's a quick clarification - is it the spandex? Too much? [ Peter isn't really taking offense, his tone clearly jovial and joking as he executes another set of flips and acrobatics away from the incoming attacks. He really, really hopes the others are getting where they need to be; they're one lucky run away from a Situation. Threading the needle, his specialty. ]

No...maybe not. [ Peter doesn't deflect on that one, hearing a note of gravity in Charles' tone. And it's true; what Peter does on any given day as Spiderman is good. At least, it's trying to be. He's trying to be. It's also true that he's alone, in his universe. There are no other enhanced people; if there are, most of them have either lost their grip on reality, or they're keeping their heads down away from all the craziness. ] I like to believe there are, though. When given the opportunity.

[ The number of assists he's gotten from ordinary people - firefighters, crane operators, New York's finest - regular people, who can't do the things he can do but try their best to help anyway - well, maybe that's restored a little bit of his faith in humanity. Just a little. Just enough. ]

If I have the power to help, then it's my responsibility to provide that help. I think that goes for everyone. At least, that's how I was raised.

cw: somewhat graphic injury

[incorrigibles]

Nah, [ charles laughs and shakes his head, ] Not at all. Under different circumstances might have considered it, but — I've already got my eye on someone else, so...

[ so! anyway — he does mean it, peter being an incredible person, and definitely someone he's happy to call his friend, someone whose dedication and selflessness he already admires. ] ... Maybe. There's definitely some decent people out there. This place has proven that much.

[ because he's already met so many amazing people here — and yeah, maybe they're not all from the same world, but the fact they exist, out there in their own worlds... yeah. that's already good. ]

Mate, then you were raised by good people. [ said with soft sincerity; he'd know, after all, given how his own parents had been... hardly the best by any metric.

and he's so focused on their little talk that he doesn't even notice the arrow headed his way; when he does, he figures he can just phase out of the way... only for the arrow to thud into his side, the iron tip burrowing into him, tearing through his clothes, his now-corporeal flesh smoking as it embeds itself in between his ribs.

charles isn't even aware of the scream he lets out, too busy collapsing onto the ground in horrible pain. ]

[spideyguy]

Really know how to pad a guy's ego. It's okay, you can say it - [ Peter huffs from exertion as he dodges out of the way over another volley, lifting his hands to make pincers at the sides of his mouth when he's back to right-side up. ] Spider chelicerae just aren't for you.

[ For the record, he does not, in fact, have pincers for a mouth. Still, it's a surprisingly common assumption ?? He also needs to joke and goof around, it's part of his whole nervous energy schtick. Case in point, he rolls back up to his feet and shoots off another handful of web globs, mucking up some of the archers. God, he hopes the rest of them have gotten inside alright, because more and more guards are amassing on the rampart. They're just lucky no one has tried to come down to them yet - ]

I got lucky. Aunt and Uncle. [ It's true, and he's proud of them. He definitely appreciates them now so much more than he ever had before.

Throughout this blitz, Peter's spidey sense has only been activating for himself - move this way, twist that way, dodge, evade, etc. Now, it blares at him, sudden and visceral, and his head whips around just in time for him to see the arrow embed itself in Charles' side. Smoke pours from the wound, and Peter doesn't know what the hell could do that, but he's sure it's not good. ]

Woah there, buddy, this is a no-smoking area! [ Peter bounds over, clapping a hand down on Charles' side - an instinct, to stop bleeding, but there is no blood. Just smoke, which continues to leak from beneath his fingers. Okay, new plan. ] How did that even - not important, I'm going to lift you, okay? Okay. One, two -