groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2023-05-15 05:49 pm

the sunken | part i



THE SUNKEN






Welcome to the first log of Arc VI: the Sunken, which covers 15 May – 2 June and doubles as a test drive meme.

Back/forward date as needed! The calendar date suggestions are indicative.

The TDM is open to everyone! If you decide to apply to the game, you can get an invite from current players or the upcoming enabling meme — or participate in the test drive meme and get in touch @ [personal profile] groundrules to chat things over. We currently have 13 slots available for new players.

Test drivers can use this post for logs and network posts — old timers, please make your network posts at [community profile] eastbound.

LOST AT SEA | TEST DRIVE TOURISTS


You wake, gasping, in a stormy sea, your thoughts slowed to a confused trickle. Skill, floating wood or a kindly stranger — who you can’t understand — help you to reach shore.

Villagers discover you collapsed on sand and provide critical (if rickety) communication and translation devices. They say you are in Sunken Yancai, a fishing village progressively overtaken by waters and cursed by the secretive ‘ladies of the lake’ to transit through time.

■ Rescuers group newcomers and supply questionable village couture, warm meals and accommodations in abandoned, half-flooded homes or spare small boats anchored in Yancai’s waterways. Huddle up, recover your strength and don’t think too hard on why your memories are hazy over the next three days.

■ Come morning, you visit village leader Quanze Tsaymien, then the sorceress Karsa — who explains you are otherworlders summoned into Akhuras by undead lords who wish to weaponise you in their battle against humans and one another. Karsa is an associate of the Merchant, who leads otherworlders towards ancient transport beacons east.

■ One such beacon rests dormant in Yancai. The group must infiltrate the village and wait a few weeks until it shifts to a point back in time when the beacon was active.

■ Newcomers are handed passport papers with their new identities in Yancai, where they may be known as a bankrupt merchant, perpetually drunk sailor, whale hunter, raft surveyor, mermaid who has just gained their legs, crab collector... feel free to invent a dutifully hilarious apt role for their seaside sojourn.


OLD TIMERS | THE DRIFTING


You dragged yourself here in a haze. You arrived long ago, as if in a dream. You were born and bred in this village. In truth, your memories of reaching lively Yancai feel nebulous and alarmingly inconsequential.

Characters are facilitated new identities and dwellings by the Merchant, or believe they have had them all along.

■ A weary Karsa warns to say nothing to party members with altered memories, until the sorcery that affects them runs its course.

■ Memory-altered characters progressively regain their memories within three to five days (by 20 May). They have their memories partially or fully back at night ( midnight to 5 a.m.). Throughout the day, memory regains can trigger migraines, eerie confusion and paranoia.

Hauntings begin once characters have fully regained their memories.

■ Once everyone is ‘back to normal,’ Karsa explains that Yancai periodically transits through time. The memory alterations are a magical solution endorsed by the village council, which ensures locals mentally weather these shifts. Villagers continue to blithely accept you as part of the community.


(DON'T) HOLD YOUR BREATH


Karsa reunites the existing party and newcomers, issuing first assignments. The Merchants’s information suggests the beacon of Yancai will be online once the village travels in time within weeks. A dubious Karsa asks the party to check on the beacon, located in the former House of Commerce of the largely inundated merchants’ district. Reach it by rowing boat.

■ Villagers say the Master of Commerce, a famous musician, took precautions against intruders.

■ All ground and lower floor entryways of the palatial House were boarded to restrict flooding. To enter, pick locks or climb the putrid stairwell towards upper balconies.

Inside, the hissing of running water — and, in the lower levels, of thin, slippery leeches whose bite numbs your limbs, while they attempt to feed. You seem to experience pronounced vertigo when entering any decaying rooms covered in black mould.

■ The beacon is located on a dais in the basement vault room, where water rises near 1 meter. Only a few scattered scrolls and golden decorations remain among decorations, while a large ceiling carving writes, greed deafens man to the cries of his conscience; music sets him free.

■ Some tiles of the marbled floor stand out as you wade — step on one, and all doors abruptly slam shut, while dozens of obscured holes in the wall start to rapidly spill water, threatening to fill the room to the ceiling within the hour. You hear the tinny, waning sound of a village song played from a hidden source.

■ To stop the pouring water and open the doors, sing the song you hear, or find the music box that produces it amid debris on the water-covered floors. Wind it, and it plays its song in reverse, revealing the voice of a laughing elderly man who says, Depressingly, Anurr was right to worry.

■ Don’t forget to check the beacon — and report back to Karsa that it looks structurally untarnished.


THEY SLEEP


After surprising revelations at previous citadels, Karsa tasks you to investigate just how… permanent death is in Yancai. Villagers share that their dead are buried in a strange rite at sea — part of which will take place within days.

■ The dead are ‘entombed’ in one-man sarcophagi ships with carved and chained lids that depict their likeness. These burial boats are set at sea on the first day of each season and return three months later.

■ Join the harbours around 22 May, when mourners gather to receive the burial boats. Characters must pretend to be greatly anguished relatives, acquaintances or debt collectors to join the grieving.

■ The boats float towards you, seemingly of their own volition. Gaze afar and spot a boat carrying a man in black — the same who haunts some characters — who observes until the last burial ship has reached the piers, before he disappears.

■ Sailors draw up the boats and unpeel the untouched chains and lids, to reveal… no corpses. Peer closer and find neither biological signs (stench, liquids) of discomposure, nor the magical chillness of spaces where cadavers have lingered long. Scratch marks litter the inside of some boat lids.

■ Mourners seem grateful that the waters have ‘accepted’ the bodies. Some say that their relatives whose boats have yet to return must have been stolen by the ‘ladies of the lake,’ a villainous witch coven. Speak to mourners or sailors for clues.

■ Linger long near opened burial boats, and you feel tempted to throw yourself into the sea, slowly losing consciousness — until someone rescues you.


AMONG US


On 25 May, village leader Quanze Tsaymien drags the chained and half feral mistress Miang-si to households and Yancai’s largest market square.

The young woman, he says, was seduced by the ladies of the lake — the furtive witch coven that condemned Yancai to time travel. Luckily, the village elders have… coaxed Miang-si back onto the righteous path.

Miang-si is brought door-to-door to point out her 'accomplices.' Ill at ease, villagers whisper of similar witch hunts leading to false accusations and blood-curdling repercussions.

■ Both men and women are suspected and brought before Miang-si. Perhaps she takes an eerie interest in you, getting especially close to catch your scent, touch or remark on (in)visible hurts, or even dotingly kiss you. If you whisper quickly while she’s near, you might be able to ask one question.

■ If you are patient and kind to Miang-si, she briefly squeezes your hand as she withdraws. Within the hour, you find blood writ on your palm that warns, Our fat moon rises red.

■ If you are agitated, or if Quanze rushes her during your visit, Miang-si erupts into sudden, side-splitting cackling — while you find yourself croaking like a toad, or transforming into one and retaining human speech. The spell dissolves after eight hours.

Quanze’s long-suffering men say this sorcery breaks faster if you kiss one of the curmudgeonly emerald toads that hide in some of Yancai’s lakes. Catch one such delightful, slime-spitting creature or barter it from merchants at a costly premium.


ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT


A full moon is set to rise within days of Miang-si’s visit, on 27 May — just as Yancai shows signs of time shifting. Villagers are prone to stilling and staring askance, seeming lost or adrift.

The village itself evolves: one moment, the same house appears freshly new, then drowned, while waterways overfill with water, then seem barren. Overall, the village deteriorates.

■ That day, the sun suffers a midday eclipse, while droves of black birds circle the woods and village outskirts, attacking those who come close.

■ The waters increasingly thicken and darken, preventing boats from entering certain waterways.

■ An exceedingly bright moon and a diffuse lunar replica rise with nightfall. Come midnight, the village is alive with the sounds of ripping, structural collapse and shrieks. Tar-covered corpses emerge from the waters, clawing on and climbing up piers. They swarm, drawing passers-by into waters to drown them. Help them — and foremost, yourself.

■ Light and fire keep the dead at bay. On some waterways, wildfire now spells, WHAT IS WET WAS WRONGED

■ Weaker alone, fresh corpses climb into your rowing boat, pretending they are innocents who seek shelter. They betray themselves by speaking very slowly, struggling to keep track of the conversation or obliviously peppering it with details of their death. They stubbornly ask questions about you, repeating your answers, and become violent if you say they are dead. Push them into the water at first opportunity.

Quanze Tsaymien and other men of the village take arms, urging villagers to barricade in the nearest home, harbour or warehouse and weather the night. They advise to be silent and beware the dead who imitate living voices, warning not to touch any black mould or water that suddenly appear in your home — which alert the dead of your presence within.

■ Some dead try to tear you apart, while others seek to feed you a disgusting, tar-like black mould. A small taste of it makes you sluggish and feeble for two-three hours, while an entire fistful can kill.

■ If the undead infiltrate your house, hold your breath, do not move and keep from screaming. The dead have weak sight and olfactory senses and might pass you by, as long as you stay silent. It can be more efficient to fool than kill the dead.

■ By 5 a.m., houses start to replenish themselves, gaining a new appearance, while water and mould retreat. The dead withdraw into waterways. Outside doors have been marked with blood: vertical lines tell how many living people remain inside; horizontal ones count how many within died overnight.

■ You step to seize a brave new day — while Yancai enters a new time period (further details due in the next plot update).


NOTES

■ The game enabling meme goes up on 25 May.

Hit up available NPCs here or in their new inbox!

QUESTIONS.

lanclan: (25)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Bold?

[ He looks faintly surprised (him??? never!) with a teasing curl in the corner of his lips that disappears once they make short work of the feral corpses. He calls out at once point, ]

Don't touch the black mold!

[ Lord of a Ghost City or not, he doubts anyone wants that stuff to come into contact with their skin. The young man's form is exceptional, ferocious in a way that favours attack without forgetting to defend, and Xichen tests how heavily he can rely on the butterflies when he whirls through them to de-arm a large, bloated beast headed their way. ]
recklessenough: (pic#16336864)

[personal profile] recklessenough 2023-05-24 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Despite the dire circumstances of his own reality, Lockwood can appreciate the factual, bordering on casual, attitude towards death and the dead. In his opinion it was a sort of armor that could help you avoid being paralyzed by imagination. ]

So there is always some manner of death or the dead that we are dealing with as we move from place to place? Is it all related to these time disturbances?

[ He grew up with The Problem. All its lore and history are second nature to him. Finding himself in a place where he has to learn a whole new set of rules, is a bit disconcerting.

Not that Lockwood will ever admit that aloud. ]
pathologise: (pic#16408724)

[personal profile] pathologise 2023-05-24 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Alcohol?

( which is funny when they're drinking )

Trauma? Psychological conditions?

( instinctive medical answers that she doesn't know she knew but yet she doesn't question it )

Memory is tricky.
weifinder: (yobro | you're who i believe in)

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-24 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
A faster blink, and a snort, shaking of his head.

"When did anyone say he had?"

But he stands after that, heading to the alcove with the small banked embers and the pot for water to make tea, looking for grasses to feed into it, coaxing along the small flame. He adds water to the small pot, looking for the cups.

"Do you still have the cups from earlier out?"

In this case, it's one conversation that the brothers need to have for each other. This isn't the insight to a life lived that the other party simply can't know without someone speaking. Lan Zhan struggles communicating what he assumes people will intuit or understand, and sometimes they do. The times they don't, those are the ones where... a little clarity is useful.

Yet he'll make his brother-in-law tea. Even if he's already had tea. Because that's what you do.
lanclan: (42)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Xichen rises to fetch the washed cups from the ledge that provides a shelf for such items.

"He speaks nothing of you," he elaborates patiently, "and avoids conversation of you, which leads me to believe he still holds you in high esteem. More so than what I understood back home, given your ... two years together.

"It is your business, of course, and I don't wish to pry."

Turning the cups over, he offers them once having checked they have dried. His tone is calm and measured, polite but with an earnest edge controlled from years spent exuding decorum.

"But I hope, in the case of there being something either of you need to say, you will at least consider me a confidant."
weifinder: (ask | is deafening)

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-24 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)
( Two peas in a metaphorical pod of learning a different world's system after deep familiarity with the one they grew up with. Wei Wuxian glances at Lockwood, lips curling up a touch more. )

Here, the curse seems to be two part. Both of death and of time disruption. Which could mean the people in those boats weren't dead the whole time, or could mean that the dead were strongly called out of their resting places. Or something else. Can't discount anything at the moment.

( Finally at the edges, he pauses, turning to survey the scene behind them. The mourners, the empty boats, a few of them being collected and dragged back on shore, perhaps for future use. Or to fall apart, depending on how time shifts next. )

This world was cursed decades before we arrived. Maybe I should get Nacho to write more pamphlets...

( He sighs, shaking his head, before his gaze comes back to rest on Lockwood, and his hand comes to rest at his hip. )

How much did Karsa tell you when you found yourself here? I assume she's who collected the most recent lot of you.
ghastleye: shipping | dw (003)

[personal profile] ghastleye 2023-05-24 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ as xichen swings, the butterflies part around his arm to allow his sword to connect, following behind to tear at the corpse's bloated torso-- razor-sharp against the dead, but gentle anywhere they brush against the human himself.

hua cheng has to admit that the young man is a skilled swordsman, aggressive in a way that satisfies the dead, hungry heart of him. he's not so vicious as a ghost, but he'd certainly make a formidable one, wouldn't he? of course, he's not so impressive as xie lian--how could he be, compared to a martial god of such skill?--but hua cheng is pleased regardless.

he spins past grasping hands at the warning, releasing e-ming so the demonic blade can indulge its bloodlust, and as the ranks of the dead begin to thin, he bursts into a flurry of butterflies, reforming on a nearby roof to watch xichen take down the last stragglers near this part of the waterfront. (the last for now, at least.) ]
weifinder: (thinking | by the side)

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-24 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"If your worried we've discovered springtime, let me lay that to rest," he says, more a grumble than anything else as he picks up the tea leaves and measures them into the teapot, checking that it's been cleaned.

He does not add, not for lack of trying. Their timing has continued to be miserable, but Lan Xichen doesn't really need to know that. If anything, the mumble is meant jestingly, which he matches with a smile that says, don't take me seriously when he accepts the cups.

"Two years is a long time to find ourselves. Lan Zhan hasn't been the only one determining his own way, or how we choose to walk the world in step." It'll be some time for the water to heat, so he shifts to one side, holding the cups in hand and leaning back against the wall. "What you want to ask, Zewu-jun. Ask him directly. He's somewhat better at speaking when you bring his attention to what you want to hear, ah?"

Two years of struggling with communication, and he can say that much confidently now. It had hardly been a one sided struggle, and no one sided improvement. They learn together.
lanclan: (17)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"I've said what I wanted to."

He waves off the suggestion of asking Wangji anything directly, he wouldn't want to put his brother on the spot for an interrogation. Even the remarks about springtime don't pull more than an amused muscle in the corner of his lips; he was assuredly not asking about that sort of thing, no. Very funny.

Watching him, his smile softens.

"Besides, Wangji has considered you a part of our clan for a long time. I would be remiss in not doing the same and letting you know that you can come to me, if needs be."

It deserves saying out loud at least once.
lanclan: (89)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's rare that Xichen cant keep an eye on anyone during a battle, on his side or not, so when he's surprised by the other man bursting into butterflies he thinks, yes, perhaps that is an actual Ghost King, and he quickly finishes up culling the waste scrabbling for him at the pier-side. He hops to the same roof as his fellow, snapping the blood off Shuoyue with a brisk waft toward the ground, before sheathing her. ]

You have very unique abilities, Master Ghost-Flower.

[ It's not said disrespectfully, intrigued and letting it show. ]
downswing: (dandelion)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-24 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)


( Isn't it? Ah, but his mouth wears tension like tassels, like bruising. It lingers long and deep before the moment's passed, done, dissolved. He feels unlike himself, an animal cornered, belly to the ground. The hunt isn't done until one man's bled.

Strange, how more than sixteen years ago, he learned to turn weapons on the sect. How he has yet to put them down. He stirs, shifting. )


Gratitude. My hair is settled. ( Humblest of thanks for this fine work. )

downswing: (dead weight)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-24 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)


"Perhaps against it." This is a riddle, a game. He cannot speak with certainty, but knows, with gutting certainty that one false move will damn them. Somehow, this is the way of it: sing, rest listless and silent, cold wet building their tomb. There can only be one choice.

He makes it. "Sing."

A moment's decision, a heartbeat — and he bends the knee, waters risen to his waist and drenching his sides, rapidly burrowing in his silks. He offers the spread of his back quickly, motioning for the girl to mount, the difference of their heights ensuring him this single advantage.

They will rise, far too literally, above this challenge. Must.

downswing: (endgame)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-24 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)


— may be the same he has lent aid.

( Look at this man, the strange, floating weightlessness of his disposition. How he appears equally adrift and fixed, the only constant in a sea of literal, solitary death.

And Lan Wangji thinks, He does not hear us. And it strikes him after, he does not see, he does not speak. A man dark like the depths, the curse of his omnipresence like sour ginseng in Wangji's mouth. He swallows. )


Malice unproven. ( The only certainty is the man's presence. But then, what else to be done but stare? ) The living. Let us attempt them first.

( Those with mouths and appetites to speak might prove easier targets. He hesitates, shivered, silvered mouldings foam dispersing on waters. ) Delicately.

( None of... the woman's... impetuous impulsiveness, please. Thank you. )

lanclan: (83)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He sits back with a ghost of a sigh, letting Wangji escape his clutches. There is something he is not being told, something he should be congratulating him for, and he does not know whether it would be best to press. He has been invited to, with that hint, but perhaps Wangji has thought twice of his own courage in the matter. ]

All done, yes.

[ No more questions. ]
downswing: (architecture)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-24 07:36 pm (UTC)(link)


( Hardly performative, never unintended: the bend of his back, when he turns, arc deep. He holds the bow, muscles and spine trained for this one purpose, his biology attuned to the urgency of paying his brother, his sect leader, due respect.

Then, rising, he sees this: Zewu-Jun, bright as the jade that names him, honouring their people, against sad dearth and silence, dust and decay. Zewu-Jun, unsuited to these lands, and Lan Wangji, mouth agape, who may not have summoned him — but yet wishes him, selfishly, close. )


May I attend you? Serve tea?

lanclan: (45)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He resists the urge to pat him on the shoulder, instead brightening his smile. ]

Mm, let's have some tea. That would be nice.

[ Although he wonders, what kind do they have in a cave? ]
downswing: (十一)

[personal profile] downswing 2023-05-24 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)


( The silent anticipation of the moment crests a low-simmered humming in Lan Wangji's blood. He does not pull back, but finds the careful pace of resonance where the sudden fluidity of his movements matches the shrill sounds of tearing, of shrieks at distance.

Let them hunt, for all Lan Wangji does not know the path, only cuts it fast-stepped as instinct drives him — waving the boy after with one slow-waved hand. He is pale, ghostly, sword grasped viciously tight. Underfoot, branches crack, the thick of the lake-side greens spreading.

The metallic reek of the dead reaches him, before the creatures surface. Their filth, their folly. Not so long, then. )


You have claimed life before?

( A moment's hesitation, simple: earlier, blood dark between them, proof of the boy's deed done. But dead things are easily ruinous, dissolved by time and wind and their private, natural decay. Blood is as nothing, after such an encounter. )

weifinder: (ask | and a dream in my soul)

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-24 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
He coughs a little, hand up to his mouth.

"Yeah, that was a surprise to me." Decades later getting the information that clued him in to Lan Zhan having married him in custom of the clan if not exchanges more traditionally realised.

"Not so much now, but for a long time. Hardly the only thing to take me by surprise."

The water heats, and he sets down the cups to see to pouring from the boiling pot into the smaller tea pot.

"Have you had a chance to see Sizhui yet? He ended up in another residence, but these pendants let us see and speak with each other easily."
lanclan: (06)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"Good surprises, I hope."

Said as unobtrusively as possible, before the subject of Sizhui is brought up.

"I used the little device to speak with him, yes. I hear he's interested in a girl."

Dropping a soft bomb, inquisitively phrased. Wangji is a gossip.
weifinder: (flute | i know your heart's telling you)

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-24 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
A non-committal hum and a grin; they weren't all good surprises, but that's life. He expects no different, and he's thankful for those which are.

"Ah? We must be speaking about Miss Hermione," he says, tapping a finger to his chin, "Not that he's said anything directly, and she's learning people can be attracted to both men and women." Wei Wixian muses, allowing his amusement to show fully. "With you here, he could ask clan and parental permission, ah? For the heartbreak of it all."

A more solemn expression for all that.

"There's been no indication so far that we return to times or places other than our own. Nor that we recall this place, for the kindness or cruelty that offers."

He pours tea into both cups, setting the pot back down and offering Lan Xichen one with his fingertips maintaining contact. He should be pouring tea at least once for his relative by marriage. Jiang Cheng mostly endured it the one time Wei Wuxian convinced him to sit down long enough with Lan Zhan at the same table without storming away.
traumatology: (ZhVBx77)

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-05-24 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
( that's...handy. and powerful. he and wanda had talked about this, about what she'd done so now he can kind of see why.

not that he's going to share that because he doesn't want america thinking he'll do the same thing for any reason. )


And here all I have is this metal arm.

( which he uses to pick up and then throw a corpse towards that hole she's punched in the world. )
ghastleye: missmanxome | dw (038)

[personal profile] ghastleye 2023-05-24 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Do I? [ he wonders, tone amused as his eye follows the sheathing of the sword. his glance drifts back up xichen's body to meet the young man's gaze, brow arching. ] I suppose I've picked up some things over the centuries.

[ the butterflies below, their duty done, whirl into a tornado of silver wings, shattering and dispersing like the one on his finger. it leaves e-ming alone to prowl the waterfront like a chained dog, and frees hua cheng and lan xichen's attentions for the moment. ]

I was watching your swordsmanship. You're quite ferocious, aren't you?
lanclan: (69)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a flicker of something like amusement that veils behind his pleased smile when he hears Hermione's name: he thought so.

"She knows you all quite well, it seems. I've met her, she's a clever girl." As for the heartbreak of leaving Sizhui behind, should anyone happen to vanish before another, he hums as he gratefully sips his tea, "Should you find your heart's song in a cloud, it would be best to at least try your luck flying toward it. If the connection is sincere, the joy of its warmth will outlast any initial fear of falling."

If not, then they will become Xichen.

"When we return," because they will, he brooks no argument on that score, "I would prefer Sizhui felt fond echoes of memories from his time away from home, especially any lost ones."
traumatology: (AjaAkaN)

[personal profile] traumatology 2023-05-24 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)
( so, at least there were reasons. he doesn't really know what it could be and he doesn't know what the hell to do to get what he's lost back.

he hates it. )


Yeah. So, sounds like there's nothing we can do about it.
lanclan: (50)

[personal profile] lanclan 2023-05-24 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Centuries. The humblebrag gains a raised brow of respect, though he doesn't comment on it. ]

When needs be. My clan is descended from monks, we prefer to debate but do not shirk the art of the sword when agreements cannot be met.

[ Like with a corpse to stop it attacking; you can't reason with those fellas. ]

May I ask, are you recently arrived?