let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2023-06-08 06:47 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2023-06-08 06:47 pm
Entry tags:
- arcane: caitlyn,
- asoiaf: daenerys targaryen,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- final fantasy xiv: stephanivien,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- horizon: aloy,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- legend of fei: xie yun,
- lockwood & co: anthony lockwood,
- mcu: america chavez,
- mcu: kamala khan,
- mcu: natasha romanova,
- oh! my emperor: beitang moran,
- owl house: eda clawthorne,
- star wars: cal kestis,
- tian guan ci fu: xie lian,
- touken ranbu: kanesada,
- umbrella academy: five,
- untamed: lan xichen,
- untamed: wen ning,
- warcraft: wrathion
the sunken | part ii
Get your toes wet in Part II of The Sunken, stretching until 28 June.
THE MORNING AFTER
Waking from Yancai’s undead attack, you find the village has gone three years back in time.
- ■ Yancai remains flooded, but there are fewer waterways and some dry grounds. You can safely transit by raft, alongside row boat, though the waters run more turbulent.
■ Houses are sturdier, less drenched, their paints and furniture less eroded. There are fewer piers and minimal mould. The dual moons appear less… bloodthirsty.
■ Most locals don’t recall the future. The elder council, including leader Quanze Tsaymien and Kuthuba, remember, but feel compelled to re-enact the past, like an itch they must scratch. Those dead in the undead attack are alive, feeling as if they never perished.
■ Telepaths can hear echoing screams from the undead attack over the two days that follow the time travel.
■ The House of Commerce is less sunken, its beacon offline and musical boobytrap unarmed. The Master of Commerce yet lives and may be contacted.
■ Some struggle with partial or full amnesia, or might undertake their assumed identities. These effects wane within 24 hours — but vertigo, nausea and a sense of displacement may persist.
LIVING FIRE (NEWCOMERS, OPT-IN)
Spooked by the memory meddling, party witch Karsa rallies newcomers, who have least experienced Yancai’s magic, to assemble ingredients for an elixir that will help settle clouded minds. ( ”Minds? What minds? You learn to use them now? You’re too old. You only take your little drink to stop staring like fools.” )
- ■ You must locate red-eye root on the outskirts of the forests that border Yancai. The plant lives in ancient, immense trees that have been burning from the inside for decades.
■ The red-eye root grows within these endless fires.
■ Briefly stop, divert or enter the fire wall to collect the root — but beware that flames stoke, if you loiter nearby. You can also find the resident fire gnome, who’ll surrender a handful of roots — if you amuse them by fulfilling requests ranging from playful (songs, dances) to humiliating (pretending to be animals, sharing uncomfortable secrets) to cruel (asks for blood, punching a comrade… )
■ Dilute the red-eye root into a painfully bitter elixir, then distribute it and coax the reluctant to drink.
■ You can enlist anyone’s help with the quest!
HOME AT SEA
Slowly, surely, Yancai sinks — a fresher reality for villagers who reward help to raise piers, wade through waterways to reach their families, or design new boats, infrastructure and safety mechanisms. Cash in on your good deeds here.
You overhear veteran fisherman Temiu mutter that mould dregs have knotted his nets — while newly arrived Captain Alia of the New Brigade wonders how Yancai can be so flooded, amid quiet seas. The population seems tender, weary.
FARE THEE WELL
Once more, the village observes a funerary rite — this time, setting dead bodies at sea. Hostile, sullen and silent embalmers contracted by the elder council prepare corpses for final farewells before laying them to rest in one-man casket-vessels. The ships are bound with thick, weighty chains, closed and set on water — destined to return empty after the dead are claimed.
Drifting distantly at sea, the Man in Black of hauntings awaits them on a ragged boat.
- ■ Some villagers murmur that many casket-ships have gone missing, leaving those dead without rest. They argue the wisdom of burying their dead at home — but superstitious family aggressively object.
■ Stay among the grieving to collect information on the dead. You can also inspect the bodies by… borrowing coarse, greyed robes, and painting your eyes and lips with wood ashes to mimic the embalmers.
■ You recognise a small minority of the bodies sent to sea as the undead who attacked in the future.
■ There are unused casket-ships, built for lovers who perished together. Partner up, descend into a casket and fake… perfect… stiffness, to experience the disappearance firsthand.
THE MOON, HOWLING
A sight to be seen are the twin moons that steward Yancai, one true and one diffuse. In the future, they gleamed cold and waiting — here, those with a lunar or astral connection become increasingly and inexplicably convinced that these moons are… not real. No distraction, no reason, no proof convinces you. The true moon is captive.
In your moon-hunt, you are drawn to the dam-fenced, heavily flooded south-western district of Yancai — into the now deserted former seat of the elder’s council, the drowned but majestic palace-mansion of the Storm’s Stage.
- ■ Can’t hurt to tell other party members your suspicions and enlist help. Alternatively, they might follow you because of your strange behaviour.
■ Scale the great wooden dam, mindful of guards.
■ You find the district overwhelmingly submerged, with waters thick, unnaturally cool and darkened (but not black). Refugees have removed row boats, and remaining rafts are threadbare, forcing you to swim, leap or scale rooftops and balconies to advance. Beware deep rotting and crumbling architecture.
■ The Storm’s Stage is a flat, one-level building, where waters run 1.5-2m high. Its large, wide and labyrinthine corridors have made it a favourite hunting ground for Weepers: carnivorous 1m-long sea creatures with cruel teeth and human intelligence. They produce a sobbing, hiccupping sound — their cackle of enthusiasm, before they attack.
■ These obscene creatures spear the decaying bodies of their former human or animal prey in their teeth, propping them up and mimicking voices to lure you closer.
■ Make it far enough into the twisting building, and you may encounter a magically locked room, behind which, the sensitive are certain, lies the moon. Elders’ leader Quanze Tsaymien might have the key you require — or find a way to open the door yourself. Are you in yet?
THE LADIES & THEIR LAKE
You hear that beautiful maid Miang-Si has come of age, and her rich merchant family now accepts marriage offers. Jubilant, modestly attired, kind and in good health — this Miang-Si is a far cry from the spiteful, sly creature you met before.
Yet, in a small village, murmurs abound: some of Miang-Si’s friends hint that her reputation won’t survive more sneaking out at night. Others say that Miang-Si appears… distracted, her appetite lessened. Others, still, say the girl has returned to her obsessive fixation with a beautiful woman glimpsed in the forest years prior.
Miang-Si could have information on her future accomplices — the allegedly ladies of the lake.
FOR RICHER OR FOR POORER
Miang-Si’s parents have exacting marital standards: you must be rich and publicly righteous, all genders welcome. An exotic gift might go far to gain you a private audience with Miang-Si.
- ■ Choose and present a potential suitor: dress them in the village finest, polish their manners, hire an entourage and commandeer a suitable courtship gift. Swat if they complain.
■ Raise the suitor’s odds along with their public profile by flaunting their feats and virtues in the marketplace.
■ Woo your would-be parents-in-law by capturing golden scales from a rare Mura-sirri lake fish. It spits slime on its pursuers, who instantly flee, irrationally startled.
■ To the seeming ignorance of Miang-Si’s parents, their dark, dusty, mausoleum-like house appears haunted: strange women appear in reflective surfaces, or run down corridors. Joining your hosts for tea, you feel inexplicably covetous of your ‘intended,’ certain that you must have Miang-Si at all costs and that jealous rivals oppose you. Invisible to others, a beautiful woman clings to you from behind and whispers you need only verbally or physically eviscerate everyone at this table to claim your bride. Hopefully, your wingwo/man can prevent bloodshed.
■ Sign up here for one of three RNG-drawn audiences to speak to Miang-Si or investigate her quarters.
AT NIGHT, WE DALLY
You can also trail after Miang-Si on one of the nights when she slips out of her dead silent house. She leaves when the main moon is full — while the twin moon feels disapproving. Follow Miang-Si to the outskirts of Yancai, to the Silver Lakes. Here, she tosses in a silver coin and wishes for safe passage, then takes a small boat.
- ■ If she discovers you following her, Miang-Si firmly tells you to go home. The twin moon seems at ease as you heed, however unwillingly.
■ If you also drop a silver coin in the Silver Lakes and wish for safe passage, your ship turns invisible for two hours.
■ Miang-Si stops her boat in the middle of the Silver Lake and touches the waters with her hand. She is answered by several skeletons, who swim to surface and gather by her boat or climbing in. The parts of their bodies that exit the water gain flesh, then skin and the likeness of beautiful women — the rest stay skeletal in the depths.
■ One such woman greets Miang-Si as queen of the night and kisses her on the mouth, about to drag her in. If you only follow, you notice she disappears for hours, then re-emerges with a look of dark conviction, before returning home.
■ If you seek to intervene, the skeletal women capsize your both then look to embrace and kiss you, also dragging you into water. The kiss allows you to breathe underwater, while your lips are locked — but steadily steals stamina. Your captor progressively decays back to bones, losing sentience, as you reach the bottom of the lake.
■ Here, you find dozens of skeletons and mismatched bones, webbed in wisps of familiar black water, along with rags of clothing — including shreds of a white shroud.
■ The waters hold no bodies, once Miang-Si leaves.
A-HUNTING WE WILL GO
Village elder Kuthuba urges the crafty and the brave to a forest incursion after several lumberjacks are a week late returning. He fears the men lost. The village’s numerous piers, pillars and boats depend on timber, and Kuthuba seeks to retrieve both wood and any prospective casualties.
- ■ Two dozen people leave at dawns with daggers, bows, arrows. Some say they previously entered the forests before being driven out by vicious animals, but are not keen to speak further. The grounds are inhabited by woodland creatures, but eerily silent. Predators are scarce, thin and terrorised.
■ A thick mist drenches the forest, deepening until you struggle to see past 3 metres ahead, or to spot the waning sun in a grey sky. Network devices do not work, and torches are essential. You feel increasingly paranoid and hunted, distrusting your companions.
■ If lost in the woods, villagers say to set your dagger on hard ground and spin it. If the blade lands on you or your companion, wet it with your/their blood, until it no longer does so. If it points in a proper direction, head there. If it starts to cackle, bury it in dirt or flee — it has caught a taste for blood and will now seek out your throat.
■ The forests brim with diffuse whispers, women’s laughter, shrill growling and heavy steps — until amorphous many-bladed beasts descend from trees or burrow in soft ground. Aim between their carapace plates and run. Happily, rivulets abound and the creatures fear running water.
■ Deep in the forest, you find the resplendent vegetation thins into a small barren clearing where nothing grows. Here, even the earth has cracked, showing signs of black mould spores, while animals and birds avoid the region. You discover the belonging of the lumberjacks, but no bodies, along with a few scattered diary pages.
■ Take the belongings back to the lumberjacks’ families. The hunting party returns with sundown — only to realise three days have passed in Yancai.
NOTES
- ■ Feel free to investigate other regions of Yancai!
■ NPCs for this event!
■ QUESTIONS.
QUESTIONS
There's always room for sushi.
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Do the guards on the damn have long-range weapons, like bows and arrows?
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NPCS | | CLUES
The water's warm.
THE CASKETS
In a dark, cramped space, set at sea with only your partner’s breathing to break the stillness, you feel an increasing constriction. Panicked, you bloody your fingers as you scratch ruinously to remove the chain-bound lid of your casket and flee — only to fail.
Your ship turns, rattles and quakes on violent waves. You suspect that the wood of your vessel, so strained when you touch, will splinter and give. Within fifteen minutes, the stench of damp, mould and plaster suppurates your lungs, and you no longer hear birds or waves crashing outside, but the gentle lulling of water everywhere.
Then, all at once, your casket-vessel turns and tumbles, you hear waters roaring, your ship repeatedly hits stone —
And you are suddenly on hard, rock ground, dust and debris wafting around you. You have been stranded — together with your companion — at the lip of a shallow cave. You look out behind you, only to see... pitch darkness. Here, you breathe perfectly — but step outside of the cave's confines, and you find yourself drowning in the depths, underwater.
Corpses have come ashore beside you, also bereft of their caskets. A string of hooded women kneels by the bodies, inflicting sorcery that reduces them to bones. Distantly, the Man in Black speaks to one such witch — perhaps, one of the fabled ladies of the lake — in soft whispers.
The death-touch feel revulsed in this space, an invasive magic settling on their skin like an unwanted touch, without ever quite latching.
Before you can collect your bearings, a woman comes close to inspect your body, before gasping —
"These ones are alive."
NOTES:
■ Tag here, kicking off a three-way IC thread that must finish by 20 June. This scenario is only available to paired characters. You don't have to have signed up for it to play it out.
■ You should aim to share findings with the group after.
■ You can still sign up until the end of 9 June for a RNG draw to meet the Man in Black. Otherwise, your characters will be interacting with the ladies of the lake.
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NPCs
→ caitlyn
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→ mo ran
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→ wrathion
This is what you give me to work with? Well honey, I've seen worse.
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→ five
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Master of Commerce
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MOON MINDING
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THE SHROUD
Re: THE SHROUD
Re: THE SHROUD
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A MAN AND HIS DIARY
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Ruka Minazuki | Fatal Frame: Mask of the Lunar Eclipse
[There's something wrong with the moon.
She can feel it in her very bones, down into her soul. It stirs unnaturally there, making her uneasy and restless. She paces. She writes in her notebook. It feels too much like advancing Moonlight Syndrome and that worries her.
At night she flees her home to wander the streets, watching the moons with a furrowed brow, and it's here she comes across Miang-Si, fleeing from her own home. She debates what to do, but there's a pull in her mind that tells her she should follow.
So.. .Ruka does. She follows, trailing behind, feeling like a spectre herself as she watches, as she follows. The skeletons-turned-beautiful-women is like, weird? But honestly not that freaky for Ruka. She just frowns and leans over too far trying to see them better.
And then...the boat is bumped. Ruka doesn't know if it's actually just herself losing balance, or if it's these women, but into the water Ruka goes, arms wrapping around her neck, a mouth pressed to her own. She can't see much as she sinks, her body locked up. What are they doing, where is she going?
When they let her go at the bottom of the lake, she takes a deep breath and holds it, looking around wildly, fingers grasping at the clothing and the strips of the white shroud that catch her eye.
And now...which way was up?]
B. A- Hunting We Will Go
[Ruka is not a fighter by any means. She doesn't particularly know how to defend herself, beyond basic, uh, flailing. And her camera, but she doesn't think that'll be that much help against anything.
She brings it anyhow, and her notebook, just so she can write what's happening.
Maybe you've been walking with her and have to deal with a dagger wanting blood, or helping to protect her from one of the monster things?
But what she's most interested in is the clearing, though she covers her mouth and nose to avoid the mold spores with an uneasy look.]
No bodies... Did those monsters take them? [Or eat them whole? Somehow? She crouches down, poking around the belongings and taking out her notebook to catalogue what she finds.]
C. Everything else
[Maybe you're someone she's already spoken to who's wondering where the hell she's been for three days when she returns from the expedition, or someone who finds her walking back from the lake, soaking wet. Or maybe you're trying to advertise her as a worthy mate for Miang-Si? Whatever u need it can go here!]
B
... This feels too dangerous. I don't think I should give it any more blood.
[There's some murmuring among the men around them. Clearly, Xie Lian's sudden refusal unnerves them.]
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C (post-lake — he's not the type to dive in I'm sorry)
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A. The Ladies and Their Lake
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lan wangji | the untamed
( Adding further prompts over the next few days...! )
fare thee well | wangji vs chief embalmer: (don't) fight
( ‘lo, behold, a war of titans on the long quivering lip of the pier that glares down at the bead string of Yancai's casket-ships and their prim alignment:
Mourners weep. Vessels crowd. The dead trot merrily down for embarkment, like children presenting their work to an indifferent schoolmaster —
And Lan Wangji, white of his silks politely eyeball-searing, intercedes, blocking the procession’s path for a steely inspection of the cadavers.
The chief embalmer scowls, mute in the name of the ritual. Lan Wangji blinks, mute in the name of sheer, personal stubbornness.
The chief embalmer raises a hand, gently waving for Lan Wangji to scooooooooooooooot away and allow the next body, overly caked in paints, to kindly pass. Lan Wangji blinks and mimes the gesture, this time signaling please peel off the corpse’s shroud, so Wangji might stare deeper.
The chief embalmer huffs, puffs, stomps, lifts freshly signed parchment, presumably authorizing him to carry out this rite in peace, without earthly intervention.
Lan Wangji takes this point in time to slip past him, crouch down by the latest corpse surrendered to a casket for sea burial, and gently poke at the cloth fetters that bind it with the tip of his sheathed sword.
The chief embalmer, frothing, seething and preparing to stampede, is about to fight this man —
Please stop this. )
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the moon, howling | weepers: sushi
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Once More, We Become Wet
Our natural habitat!
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for richer or for poorer | wangji and ghosting
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a-hunting we will go | wangji and terrible cursed object life choices
twin jades & terrible cursed object life choices
g d i
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marc spector, marvel comics
the moon, howling ( pt. 1 )
he doesn't need to speak with khonshu to know that something's wrong. it starts as a gnawing sensation at the edge of his thoughts, eating away bit by bit, an emptiness, a doubt that eventually, finally gives way to stark realisation: the moons are wrong.
( no, that's not it, they're fakes that shouldn't be. the moon — the real moon, the one that marc should work in the shadow of at night, has been taken, held captive—
—like khonshu— (father). )
he stands dressed in white, looking up, gaze fixated. he frowns, though it's visible only through the pulling of fabric — white! of course — across his face, a crescent moon stitched neatly at the forehead. it's matched by the small crescent moons that serve as buttons on his waistcoat, as cufflinks at his sleeves. marc is not the moon, but he is its servant. he works by its light.
a voice, paternal and mocking all at once, tells him that it needs to be rescued, that how can he — marc spector, moon knight! expect to protect the travellers of the night if the night is wrong?! it echoes in his bones, in his being, and he knows the voice (khonshu) is right.
footsteps behind catch his attention (distantly) and it's not until they stop that he does anything other than stare at the not-moons. it's then that he turns his head and drops his gaze, eyes seemingly as white and silver as the moons should be behind the mask. )
They're not real.
( he says, and it's with the conviction, the faith of a man who knows it in his soul that what he says is correct.
(no, he will not be offering any evidence at this time.) )
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the moon, howling ( pt. 2 )
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a-hunting we will go
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Kahl-175 |⍓| Warframe
Kahl is glad the water has gone down. He can't swim, can't float. He's heavy enough that little boats are tricky for him. Now, there's more places he can go, wading through the bad-looking water. He's taller than the humans here, so that helps.
But sometimes he finds a place where he's stuck. The walkway here has collapsed, sloping down into the water. On the other side of the break, the walkway still stands. Too far to jump. But if he can get to the posts that hold it up...
He sighs. "Kahl hate this part." He starts walking down the broken walkway, into the water.
2. A-Hunting We Will Go
The forest floor muffles footsteps, and the fog muffles everything else. Kahl doesn't like this at all. He's a glowing, nasty-looking sword in one hand, a well-worn rifle in the other, finger off the trigger. It's too foggy to shoot, but the gun has a light on it. He likes that better than a torch.
"This like bad mornings on Earth," he grumbles. "We sure Orokin not make this forest?" It's making Kahl feel like he's back in the army. Tense and angry at the world around him.
It doesn't help that he's blind on his left side--he's positioned himself so that his remaining eye can keep watch on the forest, but that leaves his scouting partner in his blind spot. Normally he'd track them with his augments, giving him a ghostly sense of where they are. But his augments haven't been working right since they got under the trees.
[[ooc: As always, if anyone's not familiar with Kahl yet and would like to tag in, I highly recommend watching his canon introduction here, to get a visual sense of this guy!]]
1
If the man he passes by wasn't taking up so much space, he might have slipped on by without saying a word. As it is, he keeps him from missing where the walkway collapsed while he's distracted.
He's seen him before. It'd be hard to miss him, honestly. Even if he's never interacted before, his predicament is obvious, and Five frowns as he looks over the water. Easy enough for him to blink across, but something keeps him from continuing on his way. After a moment he looks up to see the towering figure starting to emerge himself in the water. Apparently he's taking the hard way.
"Going somewhere, or are you just out for a stroll?"
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lan xichen, the untamed
[ For the first two trees Xichen is able to use Liebing to please the gnomes within the flaming trees, playing a jaunty tune learned in his youth. All seems well, until the third gnome of the tree that Xichen and his companions visit demands a secret or blood. He wasn't expecting that, somehow optimistic after two rounds of flute-playing that it would pan out just as smoothly yet again.
The gnome is loud enough that anyone nearby will hear the raspy demand: Tell me something rude you keep to yourself! A secret, a secret! I want one!
Xichen can't think of anything on the spot and looks over a shoulder for help. The elixir is desperately needed for his brother and all the new friends they have made. It is going to be a long day if this is how the gnomes deal with getting bored of tooting instruments, as this one starts to call it. ]
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The third gnome, unfortunately, is different. It demands a secret or blood, demands something rude that they kept to themselves.
Poor Lan Xichen seems to be at a loss, which meant he would have to come up with something for the gnomes. How would they know it was the truth or not? What if he decided to just offer blood?
Instead he goes for something simple. After all, rudeness could be construed in many different ways. ]
I leave my godbrother and his father to rule when it should be me in their place, but instead I travel the world like one of the common folk instead.
[ No one but Moran knows that he's an emperor. This? It's a secret that he keeps to himself, one that he keeps close to his heart. He doesn't know if Lan Xichen will put the pieces together but he hopes it isn't something the other will repeat and he will explain if asked but not around the gnomes. ]
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Xie Yun | Legend of Fei
[ There was something up with the twin moons but he isn't quite sure what. It's a fleeting moment before he decides to head toward the dam-fenced, heavily flooded south-western distract.
Of course, he takes note of the wooden dam and wonders how well one would climb over it. Though he's climbed over worse. He's not surprised that one would keep guards at the ready for this place either but that wouldn't make him stop the climb. ]
Shall we?
[ If it comes down to it he can form a distraction for the guards, he's done it with Disha back home. ]
[ A- Hunting We Will Go ]
[ Xie Yun hears that several of the lumberjacks have not returned, that they were a week late. So, he decides to (despite having his sword) take a dagger and head into the forest. If he can help find the missing lumberjacks then he will do all he can to help.
Unfortunately, the forest is thick with mist and one can barely see in front of them. ]
Stick close, I don't want you getting lost.
[ That didn't mean they wouldn't get lost but it also didn't mean that he wanted them to get lost. ]
[ Wildcard ]
Anything else catches your attention, toss it at me. ♥
wildcard! pls let me know if you want me to change anything!
There's a lake up ahead, and Caitlyn watches from a distance as Miang-Si takes a small boat from the shore and starts rowing towards the center of the lake. There are a couple other boats tied up by the shore, and Caitlyn's about to jump into one of them - even though that would doubtless give her away to Miang-Si - when she realizes she's not alone.]
What are you doing here?
Looks good to me!
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The Moon, Howling
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moon wild card - sorry for lateness
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Wen Ning | The Untamed
[ Despite the fact that there are fewer waterways and some dry ground, he does not like it. Him nor water really get along. Not when there is always the chance that he will slip into it and never get out, not without help from someone else. Someone strong and able to lift a body.
So he does what he can to avoid the waterways even as he moves through to check out the place itself. ]
[ Living Fire ]
[ Being on the outskirts of the forest feel familiar. Only due to the fact that whenever he'd run, back home, he would end up in a wooded area. However, he knows that Karsa has asked them to find something important. Ingredients for an elixir.
He is not quite sure what a red-eye root is but he is sure that it will not be too terribly hard to find. ]
Do you see anything yet?
[A-Hunting We Will Go ]
[ There were whispers through the forest. Whispers that he could not make out. There was also a woman's laughter and growling. He was not, however, known to run. Even if he should. Unfortunately, these creatures that come from the trees seem to be far bigger than he expected. ]
Run
[ Even if he, himself, does not his companion in all of this should. ]
[ Wildcard ]
If anything else catches your attention, toss it at me. ♥
five hargreeves | the umbrella academy
the morning after
It doesn't make any sense that time travel could be contained to just one village. It's possible that all of it is an illusion, but if it isn't, they've got a very serious problem. A single place, with this many people, existing outside of time yet running alongside it can't possibly be sustained. How would changing their fate impact the rest of the world when it's still moving around them? He's existed outside of time since he was a child, but there are some pretty startling differences to what's happening here.
Five passes by villagers he saw dead not one day ago, and smiles grimly as they prove over and over that they're oblivious to their future. For some he tries reminding them that he was just recently at their door peddling a fish god, of all things, but nothing works. After he spends hours with nothing but blank stares, he takes his frustrations out on anyone who shows a hint of familiarity in their eye. ]
I don't trust it. [ They didn't ask, but he needs someone to rant at and Dolores is still... angry with him. ] This isn't how it works.
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home at sea
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wildcard — un: starburst.
un: ut malum pluvia | text
mo ran | husky and his white cat shizun
home at sea
No engineer like his shizun, much to Mo Ran's own personal disappointment, but he has useful abilities in the attempts to push the sea back. Strength, a willingness toward manual labor, and an uncanny ability to understand people, even at their grumpiest.
The piers disappear beneath the rising waters, but it's an easy fix. Mo Ran strips down to just pants, unconcerned about the propriety, and wades out to the end of the pier, ready to help raise it above the water's surface, putting all his concentration into his work. It keeps him busy the entire day, although he breaks for lunch, for water, and to gently tease anyone who seems down, sitting on the pier and sunning himself until it's time to dive back into the water and help. ]
Before I came here, I was helping out with a village harvest. It's good work. Raising a pier's different than harvesting rice.
[ He'll also navigate the waterways to reach family members of the villagers or otherwise help people when needed, maneuvering easily through the water. This is easy, honest work for him, where he doesn't have to think too much about what to do, and he prefers that. ]
the moon, howling
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for richer or poorer
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Wrathion | Warcraft
Into The Woods ✘ The Doctor
Yet the unease rushes through him. The forest is mist drenched, and full of whispers. He could go alone, of course, but what if the Beastmaster's creatures still hold some lingering power? What if they can yet get a hold on him? He fidgets with the amulet he made, staring into the forest and thinking.
He remembers --
Remembers flying hard towards Taravast, the voice in his head, the creatures pursuing him. Remembers fleeing Ke-Waihu, hiding in a cave, the entrance strewn with the dead bodies of creatures seeking him. Remembers Anduin's frown of concern, his gentle kindness.
I am frightened for you, Wrathion. I am trying, but... I don't know what to do.
Anduin is no longer here, aside from in his restless nightmares. For now he must face this alone. He takes a deep breath, tucks the amulet back under his shirt and resolves to head in when his senses prick and make him whirl. Someone is --
"Doctor?" he prompts, with a blink. Had he been... watching him? Following him? Or simply going the same way?
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With good fortune (and a great hairdo!) ✘ Stephanivien
do not expect stephanivien to bring honor to the family via fashion
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Eda Clawthorne | The Owl House
MORNING AFTER
For the first 24 hours, she is entirely stuck in this memory, so if you were to employ place of goodness and godliness where she dwells... well. Her pointy ears would quirk upward as she hears the noise of the doors opening and she would look up from her work and swerve toward you.
The grin on her face is toothy and a little too wide as she says: ]
Well, look who it is... !
[ But then it suddenly changes into the smile of a saleswoman. ]
Someone seeking help and advice! Well, you've come to the right place. Whatever your problem, Mama Eda's got something for you!
[ A beat. ]
No guarantees, no refunds.
THE MOON, HOWLING
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AT NIGHT, WE DALLY
Anthony Lockwood | Lockwood and Co
Cottage Raft + Haunting | Open to his fellow raft roomies.
[ Lockwood took great pride in maintaining a level head, most of the time, and clear mind. Yet his first encounter with the Milk-Toothed ghost would be be described as a shitshow.
Luckily for his housemates the encounter occurred in the room that had been designated as Lockwood's. This meant the majority of the damage that occurred was contained to just that room. There would have been a sharp, warning shout and then the sound of someone crashing around.
Anyone curious enough to open the door might want to close it just as quickly, least they risk running afoul of the lightening quick slashes coming from the iron rapier in the youth's hand. Those who stayed and perhaps tried to talk sense into the young man, would be quickly ordered to 'move away from...' just before the rapier came flashing down and through the air near their location.
Yes, ordered. Lockwood was in full on battle mode and used to giving commands. He'll apologize later if anyone takes offense.
When the ruckus died down -a safer time to take a peek- push the partially opened door the rest of the way to expose the damage held within. Curtains and blinds are shredded, furniture upturned, the mattress off the bedframe, mirrors shattered and glass panes cracked. Lockwood can be found in the far corner of the room, with his shoulders wedged against the security of the two walls. Hunkered down on his heels, the rapier is still in his right hand, but lowered in a way that suggests he's fought himself into exhaustion.
Probably a safer time to approach him. ]
DEFCON 5
[ As the days pass and the haunting loop continues, Lockwood gradually accepts his fate. No longer does he crash around his room trying to destroy a ghost that will not be destroyed.
Instead, he can be found standing in the doorway with a blank expression on his pale features. The rapier is safely sheathed at his hip, hands safely secured where they grip both sides of the doorframe.
He looks hollow and most assuredly lost to a world that goes unshared with others. He also looks like a young man desperately in need of a cup of tea. ]
A spoonful of sugar ... | OTA
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Home at Sea | OTA
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A HaUNTING we will go | OTA
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aloy / horizon
LIVING FIRE
The eternally-burning trees are a puzzlement, and she spends a moment just looking at them. The trees themselves can't be fuel for the flame, or else they would be charred and crumbled. A gas deposit? That must be it. It doesn't really explain how the red-eye root grows inside the flame, though.
Her observations last a minute, if that, but within those scant seconds, she can't ignore the flames rising higher and hotter in her presence. It could be a coincidence, but maybe...
On a whim, she abruptly turns and walks away from the burning trees.
THE LADIES & THEIR LAKE—AT NIGHT, WE DALLY
Miang-Si drops a coin in the lake, then takes a boat. Aloy stays in the shadow of a tree, watching as the boat recedes into the fog, then makes her way to the water herself. It's very clear she doesn't intend to make an offering of silver as she works on unmooring the boat.
"I don't need company," she says at the first sound of a twig breaking under someone else's foot. She doesn't look up from the rope.
A-HUNTING WE WILL GO
Two dozen people leave at dawn, and Aloy is among them, though she naturally keeps her distance. If there's any danger, she'd rather not drag anyone else into it.
As the fog grows thicker, she has to slow her pace—she already slipped on some rocks and doesn't really want to be lost in the wilds with a twisted ankle—flicking her Focus on for at least the meagre amount of light it produces. Once she does, she can make out a figure in the distance, though she's not sure what it is. Just in case, she takes her bow from her shoulder and nocks an arrow.
a-hunting we will go
The fog has been disorienting, but he lowers his bow as he feels the life that exudes from the figure that'd caught his attention, for all he keeps the arrow held and ready for a resumption of threat addressing.
"Fog like this is a hazard, ah?" he calls out, a sort of greeting that only carries so far because he projects just enough, at ease, ignoring the increasing paranoia. His time in this world makes him note it on another level, as a compulsion rather than his instincts feeding him information.
And every compulsion here is to be examined. Every one.
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the ladies and their lake
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living fire
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wei wuxian | the untamed (ota)
at night, we dally
( The boat creaks, listing as the waters silver and quiet under the moons and their reflected lights. Moons... nothing quite seems right about it, and he glances upward to squint at the less full face of the smaller second moon.
Part of this all, he feels, but he says nothing to his partner, only gestures for their silence as Miang-Si continues to the middle of the lake. The coin he'd dropped into the lakes wishing for safe passage has rendered them invisible, a curiosity he wishes to examine in the daylight to see if the spell for it persists, but for now, they're to observe what Miang-Si does in her full moon quiet escape.
Only to find ripples under the water, flashes of white and gray and yellow bone that held form, reflected in the moonlight in glimpses caught through the middling clarity of the waters. They're close enough to see as bone breaks surface and gains flesh, beautiful woman rising from the depths to tread water, to pull themselves into Miang-Si's boat.
To her utter lack of any fear, to her greeting, and the smile as she leans in to one of the flesh constructed dead shifting closer and closer to her... the words exchanged travel across the water, queen of the night, and the dead woman kisses the living, hands latching onto her shoulders, and tipping them both off the boat with a splash.
Wei Wuxian jolts forward, rocketing to his feet and near to leaping to the other boat, but checks himself for the sake of his companion.
And for the sake of the dead women who turn their way, as if their boat's invisibility has become meaningless through the intent to rescue the silence following the splashed capture of Miang-Si, bones beneath the surface and flesh above striking out for them in eerie, beautiful grace.
We see you, they say, and Wei Wuxian says )
Can you swim?
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home at sea - just think, it's like spending quality time
love this for them
love..... this............ for them................
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licyn mansbane | original character
the moon, howling
Licyn grits his teeth, stripped down to his skin and a giving pair of linen trousers that cling to his legs, allowing him free movement. This stormstruck building and its waters are as horrible as the rest of the district, but he's on track, he feels it, wants to crawl out of his skin with the certainty of it all.
"Storm take us all, what is that?"
He asks, under his breath, hearing the sobbing hiccups from within, and the movement of waters and the heavy decay of death traveling out of the building's depths.
"If they eat," he says with a grimace, shifting his grip on his sword, "Then they'll die."
He does not want to enter, but he doesn't feel this is a place where ghouls rest, and he knows his capabilities. If he gives himself a close follow to the walls, anything charging him underwater will have to compromise its own ability to swim away by coming close enough to latch on.
And he can searing well scale what he must in the process to get out of the way, it's not as if this place is build of stone.
Nodding to his companion, he says, "You're ready, love?"
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nynaeve al'meara | the wheel of time (amazon series)
the morning after
( Nynaeve thrusts the mug of warmed brew into your character's hand, offering a small, tight smile. )
The stomach at the least. For the feeling like you'll fall, haven't found anything working faster than patience. It will fade.
( This day after those horrible attacks, and she feels like she still hears screams from the night before in her head. Everything about that had been as horrible in ways as Trollock attacks, only less brutal in a sense: no one consumed, or dragged off for consumption, while worse, too, for the voices, the attempts at convincing, the dead with their confusion and words and anger.
She shakes her head, shaking off the memories. Ignoring the screams that must be her memories. The whole village has grown younger, and that is unsettling enough. )
Tell me what you remember of why you're here.
( A blunt way to check for if this is a person suffering from any kind of magic induced amnesia, like many of their company have been at one point or another. )
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stephen strange . mcu
home at sea
[ Time travel and terrifying fights against undead hordes are both somewhat unfortunate staples in a certain sorcerer's life by now. And in the aftermath, inevitably, life very much does go on.
The townsfolk don't seem surprised to see him arrive at one of the busier marketplaces, some greeting him as a familiar face, give him a knowing nod in passing, so it stands to reason he's been a staple for some time. And with his place in the world unchanged— it's time to get back to work. ]
a) [ You can find him perched on a barrel, surrounded by rope of varying hues and thicknesses, twisting lengths of yarn together into strands with the trip of his fingers. Hands-free, of course, the yarn stretched taut from a hook and knitting itself together while held by nothing else at all. ]
b) [ Spot him at just the right time and you might also catch the somewhat furtive approach of a local - on balance a woman, but sometimes a man - who'll slip him a note or step close to murmur in his ear, pressing some coins into his hand before pulling away to disappear back into the milling crowd of the market. ]
GOOD DEEDS
[ There's no rest for the weird, the wonderful or the wicked, and it's been a long time since that first stint after his arrival when Stephen turned his magic to the selfish priority of putting up his own tent - about time he shared the wealth, so to speak. The people of Yancai find their village sinking and approach him to buy some of his wares and Stephen, humble neighborhood ropemaker that he is, puts himself to work.
He has plenty of rope to donate to the cause and the villagers have plenty of lumber, but the job would still be easier with more hands. Having already assured the locals he can handle this pier alone and sent them on their way to carry on with their own business elsewhere, extra hands are currently scarce— so when he catches a glimpse of a fellow off-worlder, he's quick to call for their attention. ]
Hey. [ Pause for acknowledgement, or repetition if he's ignored, and then - ] Do you have a minute?
[ Careful, friend, he says a minute while stood amongst piles of coiled rope and stacked planks and a not even half built pier. ]
marketplace (b)
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good deeds
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Good Deeds
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marketplace (a)
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marketplace - b and still fashionably late
fashionably late back at you
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natasha romanova. marvel cinematic.
the morning after (open)
in yancai, things are eerily more pronounced. to start with — the homes look like the flood had never happened. natasha walks through the village with a suspicious eye careful to blend in with groups of others going about their business. in fact, no one seems to give her a second glance other than to wish her well on her new marriage. (it turns out the widow had once been the newlywed.)
it isn’t until the weirdness just gets to a tipping point for her that she stops, grasp the arm of someone she recognizes as a fellow traveler (even if she doesn’t know them) and asks: )
What do you think happened?
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home at sea: fare thee well (open)
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Tess Servopoulos | The Last of Us
[Pretending to be herself is a new experience, but it makes do-gooding saw at her conscience less. (Odd, really, to object to that, to wrap herself up in the confidence that she’s doing it for herself, but so it is.)
There’s a family looking to get their belongings across a waterway so they can focus on their elderly, and Tess is more than happy to play bellhop instead of helping the people themselves.
Easier with two than one, though. Tess holds a bag out to the nearest outsider, someone obviously not from here:]
Be a dear?
II. THE MOON, HOWLING
[Whatever’s going on, she wants to know, and whatever’s in that palace, she she wants to see it. Fences? No problem. Water? High, but manageable. She’s climbed on the outsides of crumbling skyscrapers without a single rope. No need to fear a little water.
She doesn’t even blink when the water seeps into her boots, just notes the wet suction every time she takes a step and carries on, tromping through until her pants are soaked to the ankles, then the knees, then the thighs.
But she does pause to glance back at her companion.]
If you’re coming with, I hope you can swim.
III. Wildcard
[PM me or hit me up on discord (victoryfanfare) if you want something custom :>]
The Moon, Howling
She frowns at what she worries is a comment about her traversal abilities - or lack thereof.]
Of course I can swim. [She owns a swimming pool. How different can this be than that?]
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Kim Wexler | Better Call Saul
[Three years ago –– or three years in the future –– Kim had been a woman of the water, confident with it to the point of controlling the comings and goings of its ships. Now is a different story. She loads a row boat for a short journey across a waterway with a grim look on her face, nervous despite the harmlessness of it.
She’s so focused on steeling herself for the actual rowing part that her attention is not quite on the way that the turbulent waters have the boat straining against its ties at the dock. Whether she misjudges the gap or the boat moves abruptly, she doesn’t know, but the result is the same: Kim’s foot misses the edge of the boat and instead descends into the water, and the rest of her rapidly follows.
Adrenaline surges through her as fast as the water soaks through her clothes, and she desperately grabs for the side of the boat, catching it with one hand and just barely managing to pull herself enough to get her head out of the water. She doesn’t make a sound beyond a panicked gasp. Her legs kick in useless, frantic circles.
She cannot swim.]
II. Fare Thee Well
[Kim is a quiet observer for the funeral rites, her arms folded tight across her ribs and her brow furrowed. The sound of the chains on the coffins is disturbing, less for the volume and more for the variable quality: sometimes it sounds more hollow than others, like the cavity within has a smaller body, a child’s body. It still doesn’t show on her face, neutral save for the sheen to her eyes. She passes from conversation to conversation with grieving families, and when she spots someone else observing –– you –– she decides it’s too much at once. Time for a break.
She takes a deep breath and pulls herself together.]
Heard anything useful yet?
III. Wildcard
[PM me or hit me up on discord (victoryfanfare) if you want something custom :>]
i.
She crosses the pier swiftly, barreling past other people milling about, as it would just waste time asking for help. Better to do it herself than risk someone else doing it wrong.
At the edge of the pier, she jumps into the boat and grab's the woman's wrist, reaching out with her other hand.]
Hold on!
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[Closed to Daenerys]
Might be that she is talking to one of the people who share the house with them. He cannot hear what she's saying -- and when he comes into the room, no one is there.
Sitting at the foot of the bed, he gives her a perplexed look: Well?
no subject
She's mentioned this before, so it doesn't require much explanation. "The child."
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