Event Log: February, Outpost Problems

[faileas]

Event Log: February, Outpost Problems

I. Adventuring We Will Go (Tomorrow) The word gets around pretty quick. Anybody who plans to journey with the group of Wilders venturing out to set up a new outpost is invited to attend a traditional gathering they have before an expedition: the packing party. On the evening of the 15th, the Wilders' HQ is bustling with activity. The whole group is present making the final preparations, sorting gear, and checking the carts for maintenance. The atmosphere is easy and upbeat, very casual, with Wilders laughing and telling jokes and stories as they work. One has to have a little fun before it's time to be serious, after all! A lot needs done, and more hands are always welcome. Camping gear and provisions need to be checked, inventoried, and dispersed into enchanted rucksacks that can hold twice as much as you might think they could - there will be enough rucksacks for each explorer in the party. Everyone is expected to carry their own. Shrunken-down construction materials for the new outpost need to be loaded into the three self-propelled carts the party will travel with (if only they were self-steering as well!). The carts themselves haven't been necessary for an expedition in a while; they could probably use some fixing up, greasing the axles and making sure the enchantments are fully charged with magic. And, too, this is a chance for the group to mingle and get to know each other. You have to be able to trust your fellows out there in the Wilde, after all. So there's a table with food bought off a few street carts: fried hand pies in meat (no one's sure what kind of meat, but hey!), veggie, and fruit varities; a pot of simmering jellied eel to be scooped into cups and eaten with spoons; fried squabs on sticks dripping grease. Beer is plentiful, as are bottles of a non-alcoholic ginger beer. Everyone is encouraged to eat, pack, and get to know each other. Especially because, the lead Wilders on this expedition will say, it's recommended that everyone going out there have a Bonded - whether it be their own normal Bonds if they're also going, or temporary Bonds with their fellow party members. The table also bears a few dozen of the temporary Bonding potions, and it's highly encouraged, though not required, that more experienced explorers temporarily Bond with those who are much newer to Aefenglom. It's nature's buddy system, you know. Whatever you're going to do, do it before the morning - the group leaves at first dawn, and will not wait for anyone too hungover to be on time. While having a Bond isn't required for the trip, the Wilders will strongly encourage it for anyone who isn't Bonded or whose Bond partners aren't going. The three-Bond safety limit does still apply to temporary Bonds, though! If you'd like to tag around for potential temp Bonds, head over to this thread right here!

II. The Silent Forest It becomes clear that, while the journey starts off easy, it won't remain that way. The group leaves out at dawn and passes first through stretches of land considered 'safe' - safe enough to be generally habitable, and the first couple of hours see the occasional farm on the way. There are few to no signs of Cwyld this close to the city, but then they start to slip into the region considered 'in progress'. These are the lands the Wilders have been focusing on, and so while there are the occasional patches of infected plants, they're easily dealt with by small, controlled burns. As the day drags on and the hike continues, though, the landscape changes. The trees grow thicker and the underbrush more dense. The machetes have to come out at points to clear the path for the carts; whoever is currently on cart-steering duty, please don't damage them! The atmosphere, too, changes around this time; the laughter dies down, expressions become more serious, Wilders are noticeably more alert to the possible presence of Shades or hostile creatures. By evening, the forest is thick and dark, the trees around them ancient and twisting. No one has ventured out to this area in quite a while, the more experienced Wilders will say, and that becomes very obvious. The once-beautiful forest is heavily infected by the Cwyld, and the small cabin that served as a Wilder outpost is overgrown, still bearing the 5-year-old corpse of a dead Wilder. Adventurers are advised to take caution when touching anything - wear gloves and heavy boots and watch your step out here, folks. The way still needs to be cleared. a. The Flora The oldest of the trees present are fully dead, thick trunks turned black and shiny, letting in light from above where their leafless branches reach out to the trees around them. The brush is thick and thorny; even small pricks and cuts in the skin are liable to be infected, a black ring forming around the wound, darkening the veins branching out from it, and need immediate treatment to keep it from spreading. It's hard to avoid other than by simply wearing thick clothing and hoping for the best. Nestled in the roots of the trees are pitcher-like plants filled with a sticky sap; the Wilders are excited to see these, and despite the dangers, comb through them to see if any remain uninfected. The sap in infected plants is black and tarry, while in uninfected plants it runs clear. This sticky liquid is excellent for smearing over wounds to seal them and draw out minor infection, and they'd be delighted to take some whole plants back for cultivation. As well, a certain breed of tree seems to have escaped infection entirely; these tall, woody trees have shiny green leaves, a contrast to the rest of the forest, and bear small green fruits that smell (and taste, should you eat one) deliciously sweet. All is not always as it seems out here in the Wilde, though - be careful which fruit you choose to imbibe. These trees are not immune to the Cwyld, they only hide their infection well. It can only be determined which trees are infected by cutting into them and inspecting the sap (difficult, because the sap of all the trees is highly toxic, and even inhaling near it will have nasty side-effects of vertigo, vomiting, and even temporary blindness). If it runs black at all, the tree is infected, and the fruit, sweet as it might taste, is deadly poisonous. Trees that are only mildly infected are a Russian roulette: you have an 80-20 chance of getting a toxic fruit or a good one. Most of the Wilders don't feel it's worth the risk. b. The Fauna The party spends a couple of days in the Silent Forest out of necessity. Initially, it seems as if there is no animal life left on this desolate patch of land. No birds chirping, no mammals scurrying about, not even an insect to buzz around the explorers' heads. It becomes quite clear that the Cwyld has consumed nearly everything, and the life left is hardly life at all. Shades are not uncommon. When camp is made for the night, capable fighters will have to rotate guard duty and patrols around the campsite, to fight off the shadows of what used to live here as they sense life and magic to consume. Dessicated, white-eyed bucks with cracking antlers, bloated and mutated birds screeching angrily, even, perhaps, the Shade of a bear, huge, enraged, and difficult to take down. But that second night, those who are alert may get the tingling sense that they're being watched. They are, in fact, by a band of nomadic Monsters, primarily Harpies and Arachne passing through. They don't approach the camp, and they won't speak to any of the Wilder group, merely watching them with something like curiosity before they flee into the forest again. It's hard to get close to them before they disappear, more at home in this dead forest than you will ever be, but close observation shows that all are scarred in some way; missing parts of limbs, eyes, or bearing even worse marks on their bodies. c. The Solution It's too thick an area to clear simply by burning. They'd set the whole dry patch of forest alight and kill who knows what along with the Cwyld. Some smaller areas can be taken care of with fire and careful supervision, but the rest of it... The lead Wilder on this expedition, a prematurely-greying Witch named Rilla Sparks, puts forth a suggestion. She admits, it's one based heavily on theory and speculation, along with the findings of certain prominent researchers in the city. If they can find the leyline, she thinks the Witches in their party can flood it with enough positive, nurturing magic to 'flush' the Cwyld out of the vicinity, so to speak. Or, she hopes, enough to make it passable in the future. It's experimental, but isn't that what this trip is about? Discovering new things? If enough of the party is game, the first step is finding the leyline in the area. This can be sniffed out by Witches and Monsters both, as they're drawn to sources of magic, even tainted magic; and, too, if anyone takes a look from the air, the leyline becomes obvious, as it cuts a much darker, more heavily infected line across the forest floor, like a blackened vein. Once it's found, it's up to the Witches in the group. Gathering over the blackened ground, anyone who wants to participate in the ritual should join in pairs or groups, down on their knees to be closer to the earth, and should 'push' their magical energy into the leyline through their hands pressed to the dirt. Each push results in a pulse of light beneath the blackness of the ground, weak at first, but stronger the more magic is expended. It will take several hours, which means the occupied (and then spent) Witches will require the protection of their Monster fellows, and interacting this closely with a tainted leyline will have side effects. A low degree of Cwyld infection is possible in the hands, but not guaranteed. Intense fatigue and dizziness is certain, along with pain when casting spells, and terrible nightmares for as long as the symptoms last - anywhere from 2 to 6 days, depending on how much magic the individual Witch expelled and how much rest they get after. It will take some time to see if their labors bear fruit. They'll check on the area again on the way back; they can't stay in one place for too long.

III. Ruins of a Past Life In the next couple of days, as the journey commences, the obvious signs of infection lessen in the landscape. The trees thin out again as they head further north. With the Wilde just barely dipping toes into autumn, and no thick canopy of foliage to block out the sun, it's a hot, uncomfortable walk. Those on cart-steering duty are considered lucky, getting to sit for a few hours, but it doesn't last - the duty is rotated between volunteers. Enjoy it while you've got it. At one point, with the sun high in the sky, they stop to refill canteens and jugs with fresh water and to take a bit of a swim. Here, the water cascades into a wide lake below, which eventually feeds back into the main river that cuts through Aefenglom farther south. At the top of the waterfall, it's much easier to see something in the distance, that isn't specifically on the route but is a small enough detour (only a mile or two off) that the guides permit it. It's the ruins of a former settlement, clusters of shells of burned out houses and buildings, a dried up well, and the crumbling remnants of a wall - reminiscent of the Bright Wall, but much, much smaller, only about eight or nine feet high at its tallest point. There is no magic left in it, though, nor any people in the ruined town. There haven't been for years and years, judging from the mossy overgrowth and state of disrepair. Some signs of the former inhabitants can still be found in the houses; the Wilders agree to make camp here for a night, to give everyone some time to explore. a. In The Daytime The ruins are depressing, but safe, in the daylight. It isn't hard to put together what happened here - a Cwyld outbreak must have come on them quickly, and judging from the hasty, half-burned homes, it was poorly contained. Some homes still contain skeletons in rotted scraps of clothing, some bones charred and others picked clean by animals. Many of their possessions still remain, except there are no books left anywhere in the town, even on shelves where books obviously were before. The patterns in the dust indicate that the books, all that survived the fires initially, were removed much more recently, within the last year or two perhaps. Otherwise, much is untouched. There are still dishes and flatware on broken tables, rotted blankets on beds, children's toys scattered over floors, axes hung on walls. A sort of thick, somewhat mucous-y grayish-green moss grows in flat sheets over most of the ruins. It isn't infected by the Cwyld; in fact, the areas where it grows seem to be free from it. Coincidence? Not? The Wilders have never seen anything quite like it, and are interested in taking samples back to study. (And for those of you who can't help but put things in your mouths: yes, the moss is edible. It tastes a little... earthy, but gives a pleasant caffeine-like buzz and burst of energy. Good for Witches still feeling the effects of the leyline flushing.) Outside the remnants of the wall, there are years-overgrown gardens, and perfectly good potatoes, asparagus, and raspberries can be found still growing, hardy and perennial even without human hands to tend to them. These people lived a more simple life than those in relatively-modern Aefenglom, as there isn't any magitech to be found, but somehow, they made themselves a home out here in the middle of nowhere. b. Ghosts of a Forgotten Settlement After nightfall, the dead town comes alive again, in a morbid sense. The party will soon find that the sunset brings the emergence of specters of the town's deceased residents - ghastly semi-transparent echoes of humans and Monsters, men, women, and children, in the state they were in at their deaths. Some are badly burnt, others were obviously infected, on their way to becoming Cwyldtid. Now, they go about their former lives every night, filling the ruined town with a sense of dread and foreboding that is impossible for the living to ignore. The ghosts cannot be touched or physically interacted with, and many of them simply ignore the Wilders and Mirrorbound completely. Spectral children play in the streets, adults tidy shops that are no longer there, or head out to the field to farm. They do so with expressions full of sadness, and desperation, as if trapped in this cycle of un-life. Others not only notice the group, but try to turn on them, enraged at the sight of intruders, though their shouts and screams are silent. They can't do any damage, but if they pass through you, you'll feel a bone-deep chill, despite the late-summer heat hanging in the air, and the specters' 'touch' will fill anyone with an aching, heavy despair, or rage - echoes of the emotions the ghosts experienced before their deaths.

IV. The Northern Outpost The sparse forest thins even more to the north. The terrain grows more uneven, rockier and hilly, with drier soil and hardy, sun-bleached grass instead of moss and leaf litter. Several natural rock formations can be spotted in the distance, growing larger as the group gets nearer. The trees here are few and far between, shorter and sturdier, casting only small circles of shade on the baked landscape. Wildflowers dot the grass in every color of the rainbow in the areas that remain uninfected. A low degree of Cwyld infection can be found here, turning the grasses overgrown, dry and brittle, and the sparse trees gnarled and blackened. This is to be expected, though. You can't venture this far out and expect anywhere to be completely untouched. The spot Rilla Sparks chooses for the new outpost is cradled between two large spires of stone, with a cliff-face at the back of it - protected on three sides to defend from animals and Shades, with a relatively clean stream within an hour's walking distance. Construction has to commence immediately. Once they land, it's a flurry of activity, as there is much work to be done. The building supplies are returned to their original sizes and it's all hands on deck to put together the low wooden building. With everyone working as quickly as they can, it should take about three days to get set up enough to consider the outpost open. Also on the to-do list: setting up the teleporter waypoint given to the Wilders by the Coven, to shorten the trip from Aefenglom to this far-flung outpost. It's smaller than the one in Dorchacht, only able to transport three people at a time, but the technology is the same. They'll need as many magitech-capable hands as they can get to calibrate it to the local energies and get it up and running. While all this is going on, exploration of the local area is high on the list as well, to ferret out any potential dangers that may be inherent to setting up here, or potential boons that can be taken back to Aefenglom, and to start work on their maps. There's a job for everyone, and while they're happy to let people do what they're good at, or rotate between different tasks, anybody slacking off will get the stink-eye - you came to work, right? This is no vacation! After the first day, though, things start... getting a little weird. Items start disappearing at random times, just out of nowhere, no rhyme or reason to the things taken. Hammers, half-drawn maps, scraps of wood, your half-eaten lunch if you look away from it for long enough. Personal items may go missing as well, if left unattended, so keep your precious things and weapons close. You may hear muffled voices - laughter, indiscernible chatter - around the times when stuff goes missing; it could be the voice of a stranger, or maybe it's the voice of someone you know, someone you've been traveling with for the last several days. But why would they want to steal your pen, or your handful of nails, or your drink cup? Weirder still, holes in the dirt start turning up in the night. Maybe six feet deep, dug at an angle like the beginning of a tunnel, and cutting off abruptly. Digging further down in these holes doesn't turn much up at first, but checking enough of them will turn up only a handful of the smaller missing items with teeth marks in them. Inconsequential, uninteresting, inedible things, or straight up trash in some cases. With enough persistence and maybe a good old fashioned stake-out, the culprits turn up: a pack of sand-colored, hyena-like animals that perfectly mimic human and Monster voices that they hear (often repeating words out of context, like much dumber parrots - they don't know what they're saying, only what the words sound like), and scavenge for whatever they can get their paws on. The hyenas are aggressive when confronted, and pack-oriented, but can be won over eventually by feeding them, or talking at them: different hyenas like different sounds and different words, so it might take some trial and error. Several bear low-level infections that can still be cured. Maybe eventually they can be trained. But then, where is everything else they stole? Please note that only a very small number of the items missing will be found on this trip! If you don't want something of your character's gone for an indeterminate amount of time, don't have it stolen. It's just possible they might turn up at a later date, however...

Welcome to February's event log, Outpost Problems! The expedition will last about an IC week for everyone who completes the trip; characters can return to Aefenglom with a pair of Wilder scouts at any stop along the way, though. As always, please direct your event-specific questions here! You can tag around for temporary Bonds in this thread, and if your character would eat the fruit in the Silent Forest, please post here for your dice roll (we did say it's a Russian roulette). Enjoy the trip outside the Bright Wall, everyone!

Comments

QUESTIONS

[moustre]

GENERAL

[moustre]

ATE THE FRUIT?

[moustre]

Did your character eat the forbidden fruit in the Silent Forest? Everyone has an 80-20 chance of toxic vs non. Post here and we'll give you your roll + symptoms, if applicable. Keep in mind they won't be pleasant!

[oathkeeper]

Sora is going to end up eating the fruit (for prompt writing)! What happens!

TEMPORARY BOND FINDER

[faileas]

Character Name:
Choice: Monster or Witch
Newbie/Oldbie?: Is your character new or have they been around a while?
Seeking: Are you looking to temp-Bond with a Monster or a Witch? Either? Both?
Anything Else: Any other notes?

<b>Character Name:</b> <b>Choice:</b> <b>Newbie/Oldbie?:</b> <b>Seeking:</b> <b>Anything Else:</b>

[fiddlestick]

Character Name: Elliot Craig
Choice: Witch
Newbie/Oldbie?: Oldbie! He's been here since June.
Seeking: He has two monster bonds, so he can handle one temporary bond of either witch or monster! Anything to help people stay safe.
Anything Else: Elliot is a healer with a specialty in Cwyld infections, so you can guess he'll be busy this trip. He's a pretty easy going bond, though easily made anxious. Sorry about that.

fie claussell ❀ trails of cold steel ❀ turnskin (snow leopard)

[sylphid]

( I - PREP )

[Fie is late to the packing party, joining when most everyone else is already there. If questioned, she'll brush it off, saying she had errands to finish. She tries to act normal, which works well for the most part. But those that know her well might find her slightly more subdued and distracted when gather materials. She'll let them know soon enough, but not tonight. Sharing her trip to the mirror house will wait.

So for now, she'll be picking her supplies carefully, aside from those of her own she's brought. What exactly those are will remain to be seen. Of course, food and drink (of the non-alcoholic variety) are to be had. She'll be doing her best to mingle with the others as well. No reason to let things at home mess up a good time, right?]

Hey, try this one. [She'll offer different pieces of food to different people she comes across. It's all pretty damn good.]

( II - FOREST )

[For the first, larger portion of the walk, Fie's willing to converse or snack or simply trek along in comfortable silence. Large chunks of her life back home consist of traveling, so this callback to her type of normal is comforting in a way. She doesn't volunteer to drive or ride in a cart, preferring to leave it to those who might benefit from it more. If someone looks a little haggard, they might find a water bottle shoved in their face without a word from her. Or maybe there is a word or two.

When they reach the forest, Fie's already decked out in her protective clothing, arm length gloves included. When informed about the pitcher plants, she takes it upon herself to start looking for uninfected specimens to collect and bring along. Being knee deep in the potential infection doesn't seem to faze her. And when night falls, she'll take her turn patrolling on guard duty, her two gunswords on her person at all times. Coming up to greet her? Better be careful.]

( III - RUINS )

[The lessening of the infection has her relaxing a little, but the increase in heat basically negates that feeling. Fie is a little irritated, but doesn't complain. Though, when they do reach the lake, she visibly perks up. Once things are settled, she'll strip down to her underclothes and hop in for a swim through the water, even taking a few leaps off the top of the waterfall. It might be the first time she's really smiled since they set off.

In the ruins, she'll set about looking around for anything useful, going into homes, a solemn look in place upon seeing any remains. It won't slow her down, however. Finding the produce growing in spades outside the wall has her hard at work collecting as much as she can for the rest of the trip. Carrying it back to camp is going to take a few trips. She'd welcome to help with a smile.

Night is when Fie really withdraws. The ghosts' lingering despair and anguish coupled with her recent trip to the mirror house have her sitting in a corner, hugging her legs without a word to anyone. Alone with this and her thoughts isn't a good thing. Even having someone next to her would do her a world of good.]

( IV - OUTPOST )

[They've made it. Once base is decided and work begins, Fie is off to explore the area. It's best not to go alone, so a partner or two is welcomed. Expect a quick rundown of her skills as she would expect from them. Whether a witch or monster, she's adaptable to most types.

At some point in the day, she'll stop to eat, a rare moment of non activity for her as well as a nice time to relax.

As things vanish, she wants to know why and how. So she'll be part of a stake-out, being extraordinarily patient compared to normal. Once they discover the culprits, Fie takes it upon herself to try and befriend them with food, noises, and her own turnskin provided pack instinct. This, coupled with her jaeger experience, will have her on decently good terms with one of the larger females. It'll be a fun trip back.]

((ooc: wildcard anywhere is great, too! hmu at retort to plot.))

II

[fiddlestick]

[Having traveled together a lot with Fie, there was something comforting and familiar with her being his travel partner this time. Even without being Bonded, they knew each other's habits and needs. So when he starts getting winded from the long trek, the water bottle shoved in his face isn't even a surprise.]

Aha...nothing gets past you.

Elliot Craig | Witch | OTA

[fiddlestick]

I. Packing Time
[It didn't take much thinking for Elliot to agree to go on this trip. He liked traveling, he wanted to know more about this world, and he could make himself useful with the Cwyld infections. Also, getting out of town for a few days did sound pretty appealing.

So he's at the packing party, packing up his own gear and also distributing healing items to different people. It's nothing too fancy: minor healing potions, bandages, disinfection. He's also go another bag that he's filling up with Cwyld treatment supplies, which looks to be different salves and enchantments. Though he isn't so willing to hand this out to anyone, as improper application can lead to permanently losing your magic. Still, maybe you decide its worth the risk to swipe some when he's not looking.

Otherwise, he's being friendly as he can. People who he's more familiar with will get a more personalized greeting. But people he hasn't met yet? He'll give a smile as he approaches.]

Hi, I'm Elliot. What's your name?

II. Cwyld Treatment
[Well the infected forest is a pretty scary and bad looking place, but Elliot can't say he's entirely surprised by it given what he knows about Cwyld. Elliot exercises caution during this leg of the trip, making sure he's well covered up and staying near the main party.

Good thing too as if someone gets infected? He'll be easy to find with treatments. If that happens, he'll do his best to try to treat Cwyld infections, either by applying a salve or a carefully placed enchantment. While that'll cure up recent or mild infections, more severe ones or ones not immediately treated will take more doing and rest. Still, he tries to keep up a cheerful and kind demeanor through the process]

There, that wasn't so bad now was it?

[Curiously, while he is being careful, there is no denying he's being careful not to get infected- being a healer does make him regularly prone to the infection. And yet, if one is to observe him, they might notice how he never seems to get an infection himself. He doesn't draw attention to it, but it is rather curious]

III. Village
[A once small village now in ruins and all the occupants tragically dead. This is a sight that Elliot had hoped he'd never see again. Once they enter the village, he becomes rather quiet. He might be found exploring the ruins, not taking any of the personal items found here.

During the day, you might also find him searching for large stones and picking wildflowers, to make a grave for the people who died. He'll even propose it to people who he thinks might listen]

Can you help me? I was thinking of putting a memorial up for this village...maybe it'll give them some peace.

[It'll be an all day project, depending on the scale of it, but in the end ... it'll pay off. At night, you might see some of the ghosts reacting to the memorial. Some are too full of rage and pay it no heed. However others? Will see the act of remembrance and get a look of peace on their faces, before simply fading away. Even if they can't save all of them, at least a few souls will get to rest.]

Wildcard
[Got another prompt idea for me? Hit me up at neutronstar or just leave a comment!]

iii

[exarchal]

[Elliot isn't the only one with that line of thinking. Religious rites aren't exactly his specialty, but ghosts can sometimes be very angry and come back if you don't. He holds up his current collection of brightly-colored wildflowers in his crystal hand.]

I see no reason why we should not combine forces. A little here may go a long way.

[He offers them to Elliot, and adds:]

Pray allow me to carry anything heavy-- I am stronger than I look. [He's been very careful about the Cwyld since coming out here, at least.]

Mikasa Ackerman | Fae(not known ic) | OTA

[stopfen]

1. Adventuring we go

a. Prep time
[Expedition preparation was something she'd done often enough for it to be easy to fall into a rhythm. But the rucksack gets a good long look after Mikasa puts her initial camping gear in and is looking at the rest. ]

How is the rest of this going to fit?

[She wasn't exactly disorganized but how? The camping gear had already been bigger than the bag. But then Mikasa looks in the top of the bag and there's still space. What? She just needs a moment, just going to put her arm in work this out...It goes all the way to her shoulder. And she's left awkwardly lent over it.]

...I can't reach the bottom.

b. Looking at them bonding potions - limited to two
[Mikasa didn't have a bond. She also didn't ask for one. But she did stand not to far from the table reading the information for the bonding potions. Frowning. No, she didn't like this but even the Wilders were mentioning it. Especially to any dragons and fae they spotted. Not that Mikasa knew what she was.]

What is the side affects of this if we're not offered them at the mirror hall?

2. The forest
a. Plants
[Mikasa wasn't a stranger to hard treks, and there's no complaints from her about it. Walking it was new. She was used to being on horseback, human legs couldn't outrun a titan. But something about this seemed oddly pleasant, at least to her. The farms, the small occasional house outside of the walls safety.

She stays close to the out parts of the group. Making sure to stay near a wilder or a more experienced mirrorbound. Because while she was sure about her skill with the wooden handled sword she'd scraped up enough cash to try. She hadn't thought a shade before. She didn't know what to look for, how to fight one. It's hard to miss how desolated it was once they got to cabin.

Mikasa was more than willing to get her hands dirty and wear the thicker gloves and clothes to go rummaging for the plants. Using a small borrowed blade to check-]

Ugh...

[Yep. That one was infected, leaking dark sap all over her glove. And Mikasa isn't sure what to do. Other than hold it about the already infected plant. She couldn't move her arm too much and risk dripping the sap on uninfected plants. But what was she supposed to.]

b. Guard duty (cw - animal body horror cause shades)
[Once night falls. Mikasa is one of the ones willing to stay up, to keep an eye out and make sure nothing surprises them. The noise gives the attacking creature away far before it's there. Enough that it's very easy to dodge it.

Partly because the bird could hardly fly. Once it chose a direction it was stuck. Smashing it's self into the ground with a sickening noise. At first Mikasa is still, thinking it had just killed it's self in it's bad landing. But then it writhes on the ground. Shards of bone sticking out where they really shouldn't have been. They shift, a few splinters falling out completely as it stands, squawking at them.]

It doesn't seem like it can move...

[It was just sat there, making noise. Legs to damaged to stand, wings too ruined to take off. The only thing it could do was move it's neck to try and swipe at them with it's beak. Still, Mikasa's slow to approach it. Circling around it slightly.]

Get it from behind if it focuses on me.

Ruins(cw for implied child death)
[Old abandoned buildings were a common site. Before the titans had been cleared out the scouts had used them as makeshift bases. Homes unused since the wall was broken, or ones beyond it that were supposedly built before. Mikasa wasn't used to seeing the bodies still intact, those normally got eaten. The remains having to be burnt to prevent disease. At first the gardens had been a curiosity.

Until Mikasa had ventured into the home it belonged to. In what seemed to be the main living room was several charred corpses. The ones she could be found staring at was a pair. A larger one, curled around a much smaller one. The former more charred, the latter had been left untouched enough for rot to set in eating away at it.]

...What happened here? Do they know?

The wildcard prompt
[For plotting I'm kittylyoko. But for the actual outpost Mikasa is just going to be carrying the heavy stuff. She also doesn't have anything to steal so ha.

I'm also open to more shade things.

ALSO, dependent on if someone manages to talk her into a temp bond. I might be doing a closed prompt for her going a bit feral.]

2-b

[crowsfeat]

[ It was a fitting role for someone like her. Hell, it was the whole reason why she came at all. She couldn't be fooled for long into thinking the relative peace of the city held any place for a soul like her own. This is where she slotted in most perfectly... protecting others from Beasts driven mad by a Disease. The Cwyld wasn't like the Old Blood, but it had similar effects, didn't it? And fighting them would be much the same.

The crows, to whom she had such affinity, were not unlike this creature. The Blade of Mercy was drawn, catching the shine of moonlight against the peculiar metal it was made from in a way that shined brilliantly, almost glowing. ]

The noise its making will draw others. Let's make this quick. [ Eileen agreed with Mikasa's idea, shifting around the bird on swift feet, the Blade of Mercy singing in the night air once she was in position, slicing at the pitiful thing. ]

eren jaeger (aot) 🔥 dragon

[usurpers]

( a note that eren will be taking his draconic form, the size of a bush elephant while awake, for the entire duration of the expedition! he also has armor, but can you believe there're hardly any dragon armor refs out there? it's crazy. )

ᴛʜᴇ sɪʟᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ (ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜs sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ)
[ whether simply setting up camp or while witches tend to the leylines, eren can be found on duty and heavily patrolling the outer vicinity for any strange scents and movements related to fauna— infection clings to nearly every tree and keeps the obsidian scaled beast on permanent edge, his spines erect and his tail occasionally rattling its pin needles together. the enchantment etched into his armor grants further protection from the cwyld, spreading his wingspan as he takes his steps and careful to umbrella any of his companions from either draping canopies above them, or from his flames, as his throat cracks and ignites when he spits streams of fire into thick underbrush. any shade he scents, despite a lack of visual cue, will earn a low, drumming snarl and guttural words spat through exposed cheek bones: ]

Within ten meters. We should draw them out to the clearing.

[ in that case, one should be prepared to fight. in case of the deadly flora, any in the dragon's sights that seems anywhere close to putting a questionable fruit in their mouth will earn a well-placed smack of his tail against their grip, and a rather aggressive snap: his ear fins fan, his fangs bare, and his forked tongue flits out in the start of sibilating words and sssss sounds dragged like a snake’s: ]

If you came to willingly be a burden, you should‘ve stayed behind.

[ that. that was mean. but come on, the whole tree reeks and they have food, why.

when off duty, or rather reluctant to when he’s shoo’d off by a different wilder pair attempting to coax him into rest, the dragon could be found carrying any bags that need moving, with campfires that need a bit more flame, or even a lone enough warrior that has an empty spot nearby them to spare. he’ll mention something about a protector in the forest, and those interested will need only show it before he lowers his head and hisses, quietly: what would you do with more information? he’d rather not speak to a wall, you see. other times, the dragon naps, and shrinks to a fun-sized armored little package cradling a sharp rock he’s found. aw, he’s sleeping! so cute.

lastly, if none of the above seem to happen, word has it that if asked, most will respond that the serious dragon prefers to be called krueger, but rumor has been stirring around that his name is really pufficus and that he's simply embarrassed by the birth name given to him. calling him such will earn you his ire, some say, but veteran wilders offer gambles in the form of food, coin, or other treats if you're willing to risk yourself and return unscathed. they hear he hoards knives. ]

ʀᴜɴᴇs
[ most people interested in putting some poor souls to rest have had luck in their memorials when it came to honoring the quieter spirits. eren takes to the challenge and can be found actively seeking the angrier ghosts, those who scream and nothing comes from their spectral mouths agape, when they run to strike their intruders only to pass right through them. trail and error happens, when the dragon attempts to light “decorated” pyres (read: they’re just piles of wood with plants and floral bushes completely uprooted) and scares them off, for example. it takes long into the night for him to show any signs of progress, but he’s monstrously persistent and surprisingly patient. one could find him conversing only through soft mrrrs, purrs and evening coos that he doesn’t seem to notice he’s making: whether the spirit he’s speaking to is a deformed adult, elder or child, he waits until he has their attention, holds an arm-wing closer to their shoulders akin to a protective cover, and writes plenty of messages into the ground with precise crystal talons:

NOBODY IS KEEPING YOU HERE
YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE
WHETHER YOU STAY HERE AND KEEP SUFFERING,
OR END IT,
IS UP TO YOU AND YOU ALONE
YOU ARE FREE
AND YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN

[ these spirits will find calm, and eren will quietly light a candle when they decide to ascend, more peaceful expressions washing their faces, some even mouthing thank yous before they dissipate with the clouds and stars. the dragon, after a moment, visibly shivers and makes a sound of protest when he thinks he’s alone, shaking his neck, then the rest of him like a dog. cold. ]

ᴀ ᴛᴀʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴs (sɪᴅᴇ ǫᴜᴇsᴛ)
[ when the bustle of building the new outpost up north has ceased in urgency, you’ll find that the dragon occupying a hefty space among expedition goers is missing. some may have seen him slip by the guards with a red-headed witch a first time, a blond with a second, and then alone, a third, forth, fifth— perhaps you? perhaps what he mentioned early about a protector in the forest now brings suspicion as to where, exactly, he’s slipped off to. the curious scrying and tailing him would not find simple tracks to follow, no matter which passage is tried and taken into the deeper wilde, completely off course compared to what the head witch has described (and please don’t tell on him).

dangers lay in each path depending on where and when you choose to follow:

ᴬ. a feral band of arachne
ᴮ. (infected) carnivorous trees
ᶜ. (infected) badgers
ᴰ. (infected) foxes
ᴱ. elk: a warning that these are more prone to attacking fauns due to an early mating season.

perhaps a sinking feeling in your chest begins to weigh into the gut when clicks and skitters rush past, or gurgles and the white eyes and mouth of a shade drags itself out of a burrow from the darkness and pools an ugly, putrid oil from its maw.

you may be alone, and the dragon will come to you with the slightest shriek given— or maybe you hear the dragon cry out first, and a burst of bright reds lights the way through the darkness and to safety— you thought. it’s more danger. ]

nap time

[sealeted]

[Hakuno, in her defense, didn't actually know that dragons could shift between sizes so... dramatically. She doesn't recognize Eren as the awkward fellow who licked her before officially meeting her, but the similarities between the large dragon she saw further up ahead in the convoy during the day and the little creature she carefully, quietly settles down next to around the fire is undeniable.

Thanks to her active wear, courtesy of Caren, she can sit down criss-cross and flip open her notebook, leafing past the notes and maps she's been jotting down so far.

She tries to be as quiet as she can as she begins writing out the day's impressions, but the idle flutter of her wings is doubtlessly stoking up a scent storm she can't detect herself just yet.

Well, there are worse ways to be woken up. Enjoy the accidental aromatherapy, Eren.]

wei wuxian | puca | ota

[weiward]

(packing party)
[making the yunmeng jiang founder proud is what he does, so wei wuxian is always ready for an adventure. he loves the atmosphere of the packing party, the wilders' jokes and especially their beer. he does his share of the work too though, loading and fixing carts, preferring the physical work to things like marking off checklists.

the time for rest finally comes, and he's tired but it's still early for him to sleep. so he grabs one more cup of alcohol and the world's tiniest chicken on a stick. still, he's happy to share if he sees someone who's awake or still working. he offers the squab with a smile, but is noticeably less generous with his cup.]

Take it. It tastes good but it's underseasoned for me.

[it's actually fine, wei wuxian just likes food that would make a normal person's tongue bleed.]

(the silent forest flora)
[he's used to wearing long sleeves, and the fur underneath them now adds even more protection. he hadn't worn gloves though, so it's the back of his hand that a thorn pierces. wei wuxian tries to hide the inky black that's spreading underneath his skin, placing his hand behind his back as he zig-zags between trees, looking for pitcher plants near the roots.

he sighs, asking anyone who he makes eye contact with:]

Have you found any with clear sap? I need some.

(the ruins/settlement)
[by the time they reach the ruins, both the journey and the heat have him more than ready for a swim. wei wuxian is one of the first to jump into the waters...preferably from someplace high. it's nice to spend some time in the water, playfully splashing others before it's back to business.

once they reach the settlement and night falls, wei wuxian takes to the roof of one of the houses. he can't do anything for the specters in the streets, can't make them do anything either, but he still plays a soft tune on chenqing. even the couple of them who do seem to notice the music can only scream up at him silently.

he finally lowers the flute from his lips. he should probably be looking for his living companions instead of hanging out with the dead, but that was kind of his thing.]

(northern outpost)
[he thought he'd felt something tug at the flute through his belt, and sure enough, there's a small indention that wei wuxian hadn't noticed before.

and from what he hears, he's not the only one. until someone finally spots the culprits and he just has one question for whoever's nearest him, nudging them whether they're friend or stranger:]

Hey, any idea what a 'hyena' is? Is it like a rabbit?

(for lwj)
[wei wuxian is no stranger to punishment, and those punishments often involved kneeling for hours on end. so the physical part of the leyline ritual was nothing for him. watching lan zhan expend all his magical energy is another story. and it was clearly even harder on the new witch, because something happens afterward that has never happened before: lan wangji fell into his arms.]

Lan Zhan!

[wei wuxian eases him to the ground again before taking his hands and turning them over, looking for signs of cwyld. he doesn't see any yet. he also doesn't let him go.]

Lan Zhan, you pushed yourself too hard. Do you think you're the only one here?

Ruins, nighttime

[petcromancer]

[Hector is another who has often felt more comfortable among the dead than alongside the living.

He walks through the streets of the deserted town, feeling for any inkling of the old connection he once had to the spirits of the dead. He has been blind to that sense since he arrived here. This is just confirmation, the final nail in the coffin of his necromatic powers.

At first, he thinks the mournful tune must be something the spirits are producing, but there is something more real about it. Eventually, he looks up and spots a solid figure on one of the intact roofs above him.]

If you're aiming for an audience, I think most of these ones are beyond hearing.

alucard | castlevania | witch

[cryptsleeper]

A. The Flora
[One day, Alucard will have it in him to joke about how he volunteers to go on the nicest road trips. Today is not that day. Today is a day for a very sober dhampir to keep walking through the forest on high alert, sword at his side and coat pulled tightly around him. It's a little ridiculous, but helpful. Thorns catch his coat but not himself, meaning that infection risks are lower. His sword cuts through what tries to hold him, and...

He has only seen pitcher plants in illustrations before. From the reaction of other Wilders, they're valuable (and he can think of someone else who might like them.) So here? Now? Looking at an outcropping?]

I found more of those pitchers. Could someone else come here and confirm if they're infected or not?

B. Ruins, daytime
[This was why Alucard was interested in coming. Ruins always seemed to have promise in them, based on limited but very successful experience. The settlement here is no different, and while the ultimate question is what happened? there's only one way to make sense of it: observation.

It's in one of the homes where the should have been books that Alucard stands, surveying the place but not moving more than a few feet from the entry way.]

Someone taking the books but nothing else suggests a sort of deliberate nature that is concerning. [An understatement, in his own opinion.]

Who else could have known about this place, and for how long?

C. Ruins, night time
Burnt.

[That's the first sign of damage that Alucard notices on some of the ghosts. He's made a point to be outside the homes as night fell, but it isn't going to help. Not if the paranoia churning inside of him is any indication. Better to camp outside of this place, where there will be so much less and--

--they were burnt.]

To contain infection or some other reason?

[He asks the question as he walks for the remains of their retaining wall.]

D. Wildcard

Flora Show Down

[petcromancer]

[In spite of the danger, which has the hairs on the back of Hector's neck prickling, Hector is excited to be here, finally getting to see the landscape of this new world.

He is curious about the infected plants, but the Wilders have cautioned him against touching them and carrying any samples home.

He responds to the call before the voice of the asker registers.]

Where are they?

[He steps around the base of a large tree and sees the son of Dracula. He flinches, but he's not wasting this opportunity just because of Alucard. He'll be damned if he backs down from his research.]

Saber (Fate/Zero) | Monster

[arturiarex]

I. Get Packed

Saber knows very well that preparation is key to any sort of expedition, so she's there early to help get things set up. It gives her a sense of control to be actually doing something instead of trying to settle into a "normal" day-to-day routine without conflict or a purpose beyond living day-to-day. She has spent her whole life with a purpose - whether as a king or a Servant. She cannot sit idle; it gnaws at her. So assisting with preparations is perhaps the next best thing she can do.

Currently she's underneath one of the carts, trying to apply some axle grease. It's not a clean job or one that one would expect a king to do, but it's something. She scoots herself out to eyeball the nearest person.

"I require your assistance; can you lift the cart? It need only be slightly - I need to reach a part of the axle."

II. Guard Duty

Saber volunteers to stand guard, of course. She's good at this sort of thing - fighting, being a knight, protecting others. It's practically in her blood. So as the evening fades into twilight and then darkness, she's on the edge of camp, Excalibur laid across her lap as she sits with her back to the flickering fires of the camp, peering out into the darkness, trying to discern movement. In a situation like this, eyesight is often the last sense you use - more often it is sound, listening for the snapping of branches or the rustle of undergrowth that might betray a larger creature approaching their position. It is made easier by the lack of the usual night noises - no insects, no nocturnal birds or animals. But the silence is unnerving in its own way.

She turns her head at the sound of someone approaching, "Are you here to stand watch as well?"

She won't mind the company.

"Or are you on your way to bed?"

Still, her voice sounds almost unnaturally loud in the stillness.

III. Explore

After their arrival at the outpost location, Saber is one of those people who volunteers to venture out and explore their surroundings. She takes materials to make a map with and to mark their way. She hasn't spent time like this out in the woods in a long while, but it's still good to stretch her legs and to see what's out there. Her particular path takes her up a steep hell that lies a little ways out from camp in an attempt to get a higher vantage point. It's not quite vertical, but it's close, and Saber is rather determined to get to the top. She's almost there in fact, sweat causing her blond hair to stick to her fore head. She braces herself and half-turns to offer a hand down.

"Come on. Almost there."

Is that the sound of rock crumbling?

IV. Wildcard!

[ ooc: happy to switch to brackets! ]

II

[sealeted]

"I... can't sleep."

Hakuno can't put a clear reason to why, not because there's no particular reason, but because there are too many reasons. It isn't that she isn't physically comfortable—the active wear Caren helped her prepare keeps her warm enough and lets her move as she pleases—but she has never slept in a place so... exposed.

In the Moon Cell, only an idiot let their guard down outside of the infirmary, the church, or their assigned room. SE.RA.PH's rigid, uninvolved protection could be bent, anywhere else.

So, wide awake and alert, Hakuno had opted to take a walk around camp instead. She keeps her voice soft, in respect to Saber's vigilance. "How have you been, Saber?"

Percy de Rolo | Critical Role | Witch

[gunsmithed]

i. Forest

[ Percy has spent too long adventuring not to fall into the pattern of night watches. When it's his turn for a shift, he ventures out as far away from the camp as he can go without entirely losing track of where it is, making wide circles around the perimeter. For one, he prefers it to sitting still, but it also proves to be something of a courtesy once the gunfire starts up. The sharp cracks of the pistol and the lower thunderclaps of the rifle are both intermittent, but far enough away that most should be able to sleep through it. But it does make him somewhat easy to keep track of.

The downside of this becomes immediately evident as Percy sweeps through a copse of trees to come unexpectedly face to face with a massive, angry, infected bear. His eyes go wide but he's well aware of how fast these things can move. And his guns are excellent, but ranged weapons do have a very obvious downside when something is this close. He manages to get Bad News up to block the mouthful of sharp teeth coming at him, the bear snarling around the rifle's barrel. He struggles with that for a moment, before wrenching the gun away to swing the entire massive gun with all of his strength and crack the bear upside the head with the rifle stock. It won't do much, but it does at least startle the thing long enough for Percy to scramble away.

He's backing up slightly damp rifle tucked into it's proper place against his shoulder when he hears footsteps behind him, and he whirls to face that direction, then immediately points the gun away once he realizes the newcomer is neither animal nor shade. ]

Do you see it?

[ It's a slightly breathless demand. What little of Percy's eyes can be seen are more than slightly wild. It takes a lot to ruffle Percy, but undead bears might just manage it. ]

ii. Ruins

[ The ruined settlement is unpleasant in ways Percy is trying not to think too hard about as he picks his way through. It's too close to what he's been trying his hardest to avoid back home, a premonition of what he could come back to. If he ever does.

But it's not until night falls that his hair really begins to stand on end. Percy's dealt with ghosts before, and with his mind already on the past, for a moment he misses Pike so strongly that it's almost a physical ache. The spirits don't seem aggressive, but Percy can't let go of the tension running through him. He manages to keep his guns tucked away by sheer force of will, but he flexes and curls his gauntleted left hand, lightning dancing around Diplomacy's metal like it's looking for somewhere to go.

And that hand instantly comes up as one of the ghosts suddenly rushes at him, and proves to do exactly nothing as the spirit rushes straight through him. Not the worst that could happen, but Percy finds himself shuddering in it's wake, eyes closing tightly against the wave of fury and despair left behind. ]

Was that really necessary? [ His teeth are gritted around the words as he makes himself straighten and deadeye any of the other ghosts lingering around tempted to do the same. ] Have some manners, at least.

[ Lecturing a ghost on politeness is possibly one of the least strange things he's done. He's lead a very odd life. ]

iii. Outpost

[ Once they actually reach their destination, Percy throws himself into helping with construction without hesitating. Eventually, he even peels off his frock coat and rolls up his sleeves, regardless of the weather. It's not particularly difficult work, but it is satisfying. He'll go out exploring every so often, just to keep his hand in, but eventually, he always returns to the building.

It's on the second day or so that he returns to where he's left his coat hanging and finds it strangely light. As he investigates with a frown, it only takes a second to realize that something very important is missing -- his pistol. Going ramrod straight in panic, Percy finds the much larger rifle resting where he'd left it, but Retort is just gone. ]

Did you see anyone come by here?

[ He snaps it at anyone nearby, coat still dangling from one hand.

And when the pistol continues not to turn up, Percy becomes slightly more pragmatic about keeping Bad News strapped to his back even as he works. It makes building things a bit more precarious, but he's not about to lose all of his weapons right now, thank you.

And later still, once they've finally figured out the source of the problem, Percy can be spotted a good few hundred feet away from the pack of creatures, sighting along Bad News' barrel with a quiet, intense focus. With the rifle's power, it would be so easy to hit them from here. ]

iv. Wildcard

[ Have another idea? Hit me. Or poke me at talkincodes and we can plot something specific. ]

iii

[zewu_jun]

[ Xichen has been lucky so far not to have lost anything personal. A cup has gone missing and a little food he looked away from, but he's still wary in his new surroundings and Liebing and Shuoyue have stayed in hand with almost paranoid dedication -- particularly after the visitation of ghosts at night. He does pick up on the stranger's agitation when he asks the question. Looking around, he shakes his head with confusion. ]

No one has come by recently, sir. It has been a quiet evening since we made it here.

[ Well, mostly quiet. He isn't sure if he's really hearing voices or it is the trick of some spirit, but that's hardly something to point out to an already-irritated man. ]

Momo | Witch

[yesdoubt]

[a: packing party and general travel]

[Momo is an outdoorsy type and this kind of thing is very much his cup of tea, so during the preparations, he can be found packing up the rucksacks and loading the construction materials for most of the prep time. He doesn't look visibly tired even after hours of work, laughing along with the Wilders and trying to hear as many of their stories as possible. He wants to know what to expect, after all.

He does eventually make it to the food table, though, because how could he not, and also it's a nice enough place to pack and still get talking to people. While he's slowly demolishing a couple of the mystery meat pies and maybe some fruit ones too, he has half an eye on the temporary bond potions, because while the Wilders have been encouraging this all night, he's not exactly sure what his thoughts on it are.]

So is this temporary Bond stuff normal when missions like this happen?

[Alternately, after the expedition departs, he can generally be found near the outer edges of the party, listening and looking out for oddities and generally trying to get a good idea of what the wilderness is like. When the mood noticeably dampens once they start crossing into infected territory, Momo maintains a smile, tilting his head towards the trees.]

Guess infections kill the mood whatever world you're in, huh?

--

[b: the solution aftermath (cw: death) (spoilers for i7 second beat*)]

[Helping with the leyline might not have been the best idea Momo's ever had considering he's new to this witching thing, but just pushing energy through was a simple enough request, and he's not the kind of person who can hang on the sidelines when he could be helping. It does mean that he falls asleep pretty much as soon as he sorts out his bedding roll next time they make camp, and the scene that presents itself in his nightmares is both familiar and unfamiliar.

Familiar in the sense that he's been on this street before, seen the blue-haired man whose name he can never remember in this dream standing in the road, just off the opposite footpath. And unfamiliar in that the street is grown over and tangled through with infected trees and roots, the danger this time not being the moving traffic, but the horrific snarls and growls he can hear getting closer through the trees.

"It's dangerous to stay there!"

He reaches out, like so many times before, and the man smiles as a deafening, hungry roar and snapping foliage bursts out to one side of him.

"Momo-kun, take care of Yuki."

And like every other time, Momo remembers the name the second the sound of a breaking body and a spurt of blood paints itself across the inside of his mind, jerking upright and awake with one hand outstretched and a cry possibly loud enough to wake someone up and definitely loud enough to catch the attention of anyone nearby who's still awake.]

Ban-san--! [He breathes for a moment, harsh and shaking, before sinking his face into his hands, red nails digging into his hairline as his voice drops to a murmur.] Not again...

--

[c: ghosts of a forgotten settlement]

[As much as Momo's been trying to keep his mood up for the entire expedition, there's one thing that's always been a gaping hole where his emotional defenses are concerned, and that thing is children. After he discovers the ghosts of the children playing, it takes him some time to break his attention from them, a veiled, but deep upset clinging to his features as he watches their sad routine. But if anyone else comes into the area, he'll turn his head, doing his best to pull up something determined over that sadness.]

Do you think there's a way we can put them to rest? [If they were lingering less painfully, that would be one thing, but as it is, he can't bring himself to leave them to more of this suffering.]

--

[d: northern outpost]

[Blessedly, the building of the outpost gives Momo something to focus on that's not the emotional rollercoaster this trip has been so far, and though he's still a touch fatigued from the leyline thing, it's not enough to keep him from helping out. He has no direct experience in construction, but the parts still need moving from point A to point B, and while he's strong, the bigger parts are big enough when returned to their normal sizes that he's going to need a second person, both to help with the weight and just to make sure nobody gets wiped out with the other end of a wooden beam while he's trying to turn.

So if anyone else looks like they're helping out with this but doesn't have a partner for the bigger, heavier moves, he'll flag them down.] Hey, want to start getting some of the heavier stuff over there? I can give you a hand with it.

--

[e: wildcard]

[[I'm open to other prompts, so feel free to hit me up at reviseleviathan or by PM if you want to plot something else!

*This is a courtesy spoiler tag for anime-only viewers; spoilered information is from Part 2 of the game and broadly accessible since it's been out for several years prior to the upcoming anime adaptation.]]

A - Food mingling!

[hoboagogo]

[Shinjiro glances up at the open question, getting his attention to where he'd been inspecting the interior of one of the meat pies, as though trying to figure out what it was made of. (He thinks he's got the spice profile down, maybe, but he's having a lot of trouble discerning just.... What it is. It can't be too bad, since the Wilders are a respectable bunch, but. Still. He's curious.)

He lifts his head, fuzzy goat ears flickering underneath his horns as he considers it.]

Yeah, it's a pretty regular thing. Being outside the wall makes monsters turn a bit faster, and probably has some affect on witches-- and bonded can keep track of each other.

[He shrugs and shifts on his hooves, taking another bite of the meat pie. He'll even wait to swallow it down before speaking again! How polite.]

They offered it before some people went to another city a couple months back. And I got one with someone before we did something dangerous one time. Ended up keeping it after, too. If you don't have a bond, you're gonna want to get on that for the trip.

Sora | Kingdom Hearts | Puca

[oathkeeper]

[A: adventuring we will go]

[Sora is more than curious to check out all the hustle and bustle around this new outpost that everyone keeps talking about, wanting to do his part in being involved and finding out a little more about this world while he’s at it. He’s fairly new but he has a heart for adventure and he honestly really wants to explore and see what this world is like outside of the city walls. The wildes seem like a, well, wild place and he wants to see what everything is all about.

Along the way, Sora finds himself at the table with food and eyeing up all the snacks and treats that are laid out for the mingling adventurers. Sora’s never been a big fan of eating a lot of vegetables in the past but for some strange reason, Sora has a big urge to munch on a few carrot sticks over everything else. His nose twitches before he picks up a carrot and starts to chew on it with a warm smile on his lips.]

Hey, who knew carrots were actually kind of tasty?

[Debatable. But Sora’s chomping down like a rabbit in heaven.]

[B: baby’s first growing pains]

[Unfortunately Sora’s day isn’t all adventures and new friends. Sometime during the mingling and temporary bonding, Sora finds himself off to the side as his breathing suddenly starts to hurt. Sora puts a hand over his chest as he feels a strange palpitation and spike of anxiety. Then suddenly he feels his ears start to burn and ache worse than they have all week. He’s been having these strange aches in his ears and head since his arrival but right now it seems worse than ever. This pounding get so worse that Sora visible falls to one knee.]

Augh-! My... my head! My ears hurt!

[The ringing in his ears turns into white static. It feels as if Sora’s head wants to split and his ears want to change somehow. Little does he know that this is more of monster’s first changes coming in as his puca tendencies start to flare with them. Sora’s ears are slowly growing and changing into something a little more rabbit-like.

His bondmates might be able to sense Sora’s pain but a witch with some healing or a monster with some tips on growing pains might also be able to help him out too. Ouch! He needs to get his head on straight before this journey starts!]

[C: the silent forest, the fauna]

[The dark cwyld-infested forest reminds him oddly enough of places like Wonderland or the Symphony of Sorcery but maybe a little more twisted and overgrown than what he’s used to seeing. It’s a sight to see what this cwyld can actually do to the flora and fauna first hand and the smell of dark infection in the air makes his nose burn.

When he smells the gentle scent of something sweeter through the burn in the air Sora can’t help but turn his head towards where it’s coming from. As a monster who is growing to love vegetables and fruits, he doesn’t stop himself from sniffing the air for more of that sweet fruity smell. And when wandering off yields him the sight of that forbidden (and very toxic) fruit he’s quick to go right up to it and pluck a fruit from the first branch he sees.]

Whoa! Look at this, how did something like this grow in a place as dark as this?!

[He really should take that as a warning sign not to eat it but... He’s going to eat it. He takes a generous bite out of the fruit and tastes immediate sweetness in his mouth and a tingling sensation on his tongue. Sora seems to be fortunate enough that the fruit doesn’t affect him whatsoever. Except for the way his mouth suddenly feels numb.]

Ahhhhhhh-? I hink mah tong is nub.

[He’s making a face before offering the fruit to you. Maybe you won’t be as lucky? Or will you be?]

[D: ruins of a past life, ghosts of a forgotten settlement]

[The cwyld-infected forest and leyline flushing had been one thing. But seeing the ruins of a town that was once full of life is something entirely else. Sora finally gets a glimpse of how devastating this cwyld thing can be. So much that it seems it can wipe entire towns out. It’s depressing and fills Sora with a sense of determination to try and help this world as much as he can to get rid of whatever cwyld actually is.

It’s in the early hours of the night that, much like the other adventures out here, Sora notices how much the ruins of this place change. Sora can see the flash of ghosts wandering through the town doing menial tasks like they’re still alive. It’s downright spooky.]

Hey, wait a minute-?

[Sora’s never been that afraid of ghosts or all things spooky. He’s been to Halloweentown and the like so he’s not afraid to go up to one of the ghosts to attempt to interact with one and maybe learn something new. Sora reaches out for a woman by her arm but as his fingers go through her spectre Sora feels the burn of depression and anger on his skin. It transfers to him enough that Sora’s shoulders start to tremble and he starts to growl.]

[E: the northern outpost]

[Boy, is he glad to finally make it to the prospected outpost. The area picked is a good spot and Sora is ready to get some real honest-to-goodness work done to get this place up and running. Sora will be more than happy to explore the area for useful materials or to help construct the teleporter. He’s by no means a technician but he’s still happy to try and help build things. He can work a hammer well enough! Just don't trust him to program anything.]

Hi! Wanna work together?

[D: wildcard]

[got something else? Feel free to toss it down here. or contact me at michrure for some plotting!]

A

[princessascended]

[Kairi's response to that question, coming from Sora, is to stare at him for a few moments, eyes slowly widening...

And then put her hand up to his head as if checking for a fever.]

Are you feeling okay? You haven't gotten sick or enchanted in some way, have you? Are you really Sora?

[Okay. So maybe she's exaggerating her reaction a little bit.]

Lady Maria | Witch | OTA

[whomthebelltolls]

[1: The Silent Forest; The Silent Maria]

[Yes, she is a Witch.

No, she's not going to do a thing with that leyline.

The most notable part of this particular chapter is that Maria hangs back with the Monsters when the rest of the Witches are called to try to flush out the leyline. Armed to the teeth as she is, she is ready to defend the area, more than she is to try to clean out the leyline. Anyone who asks? Well.] We'll need some of us with some mana left over to help this expedition later.

[Also: flushing out the leyline sounds like a direct way to help Aefenglom, and she's still mad at the city. So nope.]

[2: Ruins: Daytime]

[Well, can't stop her from picking over the ruins; "prospecting" tombs was part of her duties as a scholar at Byrgenwerth, and this isn't any different. She's pretty good at ferreting out interesting little tidbits: some jewelry, a few personal trinkets that tell some stories of the past lives of those that had been lost here.

It's the distinct lack of books that makes her pause, though. It's not that the books are rotted down to mush: it's that they're gone entirely. That's not how she's expecting to see this. She crosses her arms, tilts her head, and...] Hm. How very strange...

[She perks up a little, as she hears someone approaching her, though, and looks over. Did they hear her speak? Well, if they did, it doesn't matter. She has Found Something.]

[3: Ruins: Nighttime]

[Right. Ghosts. of course there are ghosts; why wouldn't there be, in a place where it's obvious many people died sudden, violent, traumatic deaths? Oh, Maria knows this well - she's been haunted by ghosts of her own for so long at this point, these ones are... well. Okay, they are different, because they're not fish-people, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make her freeze, as she steps back out of some of the ruined houses on a little night expedition to go double-check something she thought she saw during the day.

Gods, they're everywhere. And the angry ones - those are the ones that claw into the back of her mind, dredging up memories of other civilians as they screamed, and begged, and cursed, and prayed to their goddess to save them from the blood-crazed fiends that were tearing through them.

This is different, she tells herself. This is different; the ghosts make no sounds, there are no screams, no curses. It's a forest, not a beachside fishing hamlet. These aren't the same.

The Nightmare holds them. But they are not yet free.

She pauses, shakes her head, and nearly stumbles over a collapsed wooden beam of a house. Maria is clearly Out Of It, perhaps she'll need some help?]

[4: The Outpost]

[Night guard duty is, of course, one of the things Maria first signed up for. She's one of the few she feels qualified for it, considering when and where the Hunts usually take, and at the same time, she also knows it means she'll be most active when everyone else is not, and that feeds her antisocial tendencies just fine.

Perhaps someone is coming to relieve her? Perhaps they are just unable to sleep? Maybe they are still suffering the nightmares from the leyline cleansing, or from the ghosts, or the half-dozen other horrors they've encountered. Either way, she gives a Look over her shoulder.] Sit and speak. Or don't distract me.

[5: WILDCARD]

[Maria here is mostly a Battle Buddy for anyone who wants to get into those kinds of shenanigans; she is an aggressive and capable fighter who has been here from the start of the game, so she knows a thing or two (maybe) about the Wildes, the Cwyld, and what to do with it. So hit her up for anything~! She's just... not frequently very social.

I can be found at Reslari, at Reslari#9561 or my comment here if you wanna plot out more!]

4. Cw - animal body horror because shades

[stopfen]

[Mikasa was just here to help keep watch. Not out of doubt for the other guards' skills. But her own restlessness. It was better to put the energy into something useful than do nothing. Even if that was just watching out into the distance for what moved along the horizon. It had been easier recently. Since the full moon. Two things Mikasa hadn't really want to put together.

But she couldn't really hide how large her pupils had gotten.]

I wasn't planning on either.

[It's neutral. Not cold, but not warm. She had nothing to talk about. The closest thing to a distraction she could be was that some people found her looming unnerving.

But then there's a shrill, scream. Not a human scream. But it was piercing enough, sharp and high-pitched. The creature is heard long before it's scene. And Mikasa's tensing, drawing the wooden-handled blade.

Then the creature is loping into view. A rabbit. Or it had been. Now only it's ears and stride gave it away. Even with the limp, and ears that had been torn to ribbons. It was larger than any rabbit Mikasa had seen. Closer in size to most dogs.

That only became more apparent when it stood onto it's haunches. White eyes gleaming from the dark wisps of shadow. And it's screamed again. Beating the ground with it's foot so hard that fur and blood got stuck in the ground.

They needed it to shut up. Mikasa wasn't sure if the infected would be smart enough to plan but that noise couldn't be good.]

Shinjiro Aragaki | Monster (Goat-Faun!) | OTA

[hoboagogo]

[Packing Party!]

[He's left the town a few times, but never for this long. For once, Koromaru isn't at his side, his doggy teammate charged with watching the house and taking care of Louis's petalwolf while they're gone. The advice from the experienced Wilders of how much of what to bring, where to pack it most effectively to conserve energy (heavier items closer to your center, lighter on the peripheral-) is surprisingly effective-- as well as advice on how to protect ones hooves and hocks from the cwyld when boots aren't really an option.

He'll definitely take part in some of the mingling around the food and drink- Though he's one of the few fauns that isn't excited by alcohol, he doesn't mind being around others partying harder. He also is absolutely willing to try and jellied eels.

He may also be found tending to his axe- A large, double-headed battle-axe, oiling the blade or getting the help of a more experienced Wilder in sharpening it. (There's a second, smaller one hanging at his hip- more of a working handaxe, with a handle from carved antler. Thx Louis.)

He may also be found working out exactly what and how to pack, nosing over to whoever is closest to him:]

...'Sposed to be summer out in the Wilde, right? You think it might rain? [It's said as he's rummaging through what he's brought.] I gotta ask if that can carry the Cwyld too... I don't get how this infection thing works.


[The Silent Forest: Night.]

[There's plenty of small groups around the caravan on night guard, and tonight Shinjiro is part of one of them. He'd quickly learned out here how to layer despite the summer warmth of the Wilde, with thick gloves for when cutting and uprooting brush to fuel fires, and how to inspect any area of skin that may have brushed by some brambles, or make sure there are no scratches or dark streaks.

And so he's sitting with his back to the fire, looking fairly relaxed. Long, ungulate legs stretch out in front of him, the lower halves protected by what amounts of be leather legwarmers that end just shy of his hooves. He's watching the forest around them with interest, noting the soft, sliding motions of Arachne carefully picking their way through the trees on their long, segmented legs.]

...Wonder if they're feral or just loners.

[It's spoken aloud without the intention of truly communicating anything, more just an observance to whoever is with him. Regardless, there continue to be snaps of branches in the distance, sharp noises that speak of movement in the otherwise-dead forest, and it's impossible to tell whether it will be another nomad curiously edging by or a Shade driven to attack.]


[The Ruins: Daytime]

[He'd managed to clamp down on some of his more mortifying faun urges all through the forest on their way out. As much as he tries not to fight his monster instincts too hard, lest he get close to losing control, he'd managed to keep it together.

He's a faun and he's a goat. And goats just love to put anything in their mouths and chew on it.

He's managed to ignore the pitcher plants and the infected trees and fruits. Kept himself from chewing on anything that might have touched the Cwyld. But here in the ruins everything looks free from disease and there's a weird, earthy-smelling lichen or moss growing along the walls and there's only so long that someone can clamp down on their most basic of desires.

So it's entirely possible to find him peeling some moss from the walls, looking incredibly unsure about the texture and appearance of it, but putting it in his mouth to chew anyway. His fuzzy ears are flat back by his horns, and he'll try to do it away from anyone nearby, but really the ruins are only so big, and everyone is exploring everywhere.

So feel free to come and chew on slimy gray moss with him.]


[The Outpost]

[Much like everyone else, Shinjiro is exhausted by the time they reach the location for the Outpost-to-be. But now is when the work begins in earnest. And so he'll go where he's told, and can be found helping with the construction at times. Usually just with the most basic work, under the supervision of someone who actually knows what they're doing.

When not helping put together wooden beams or whatever else, he'll tag along with exploration groups. Having an absolute sense of direction is surprisingly useful to the cartographers, so he's willing to go along with whoever may be lacking in it, stretching his gangly legs and getting to actually enjoy a summer warmth as they trek.

Upon getting back, though, Shinjiro has definitely been victim of theft. His bedroll just completely gone. Guess he'll be sharing on the way home.]


[Anything else]

[There is so much here I would love to write about so hit me up if there's anything else you'd want to do with Shinji! Feel free to tag me with anything, or I can write a starter for you if you'd like, feel free to contact me here, Soozaphone#3966 at Discord, or at soozaphone if there's anything else you'd wanna plot!]

silent forest

[crowsfeat]

[ The crow nearby, the dark eyes of her mask keeping watch to the edge of the clearing, let out a small hum. ]

Feral or reticent, just be glad they're not infected.

[ In the end, that was the only distinction that really mattered to her. If peace for those creatures was staying out of the affairs of their party, she had no desire to draw them into it. Distance was respect. ]

jonas | oxenfree | witch.

[coherer]

𝚒. 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘 (𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠).

(bag packed, food in hand, jonas carries a half-downed pint of beer towards the table where the temporary bonding potions lie. the way he stares over them as though transfixed by their contents isn’t immediately suspicious, but his slow move to open his rucksack and his eventual lean to sweep three towards him might draw some attention. they tumble in with a few softer items—undoubtedly blankets and changes of clothes—and clink dully against their neighbours.

zipping up, he tips back his beer with a pointed look at the nearest person over the rim of his mug. maybe he’s got enough of a hard buzz on to mistake a curious look for a judgemental one, or maybe they really are giving him a withering stare. his comment’s the same.)

… don’t look at me like that; it pays to be prepared.

𝚒𝚒. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝚊. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊.
(jonas spotting anyone biting into, touching, or even looking at a delicious-looking fruit will get the nagging of a lifetime.)

Oh, no. No way. Do not put that anywhere near your mouth. Are you kidding me right now? (actually raising his arms to put up the biggest stink, and chances are he’s taking his nervousness out on you.) First thing you do in a Cwyld-infested forest is try to eat tainted nature’s bounty? You’re like, taking years off my life right now.

(let’s hope you haven’t begun to develop any unfortunate symptoms. he’s a wretched healer right now.)

𝚌. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.
It’s here, it’s close. I can– I think I can feel it. (pushing through dense underbrush, jonas searches for the leyline they described: blackened; vein-like; and running thick through the area.

a bit breathless from his successful search, but no less determined to purge the cwyld from the area, his jacket and sweater are shucked onto the ground to act as a buffers against the hard ground he’ll be treating for hours on his knees. any attempts to stop him will be met with jerkier movements and a cold shoulder, because while he’s frightened of the impact it’ll have on his body, jonas knows that turning away from the infection now would be unspeakable. leaving it like this to fester, wilt, and decay would haunt him for far longer than any side-effect could.

in a t-shirt in the cold of the autumn evening, jonas leans down into the leyline with a first push that resembles a chest compression. in this light it’s easy to see the glow of energy channelled from his palms into the ground.)

I don’t know how long I’ll be down. Watch my back, okay? (flashes a brief smile that ultimately twists into a grim, focused line.) I’m counting on you.

(far later, after managing to remain at the leyline for hours—far longer than he intended to, but too desperate for results to stop—he’ll lack the energy to keep himself upright. symptoms start with his inevitable collapse onto his elbows, gasping raggedly at magic residuals causing intense pain up the lengths of his arms: dizziness and nausea, as well as an intense fatigue; vertigo that keeps him down for the rest of the night, spinning stopping by daybreak; and nightmares, terrors that make him lash out in panic.

jonas is liable to unashamedly reach out to others during this time. he may even plead to be near someone, grabbing at hands and clothes, unable to stop shaking. feel free to hit on any of these indulgently melodramatic choices, otherwise visit him tucked away in his sleeping bag like a burrito of sadness.)

𝚒𝚒𝚒. 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.

𝚋. 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.
(it happens without warning. a chill creeps into flushed skin, stopping jonas dead in his tracks. he’s felt this overwhelming presence before, an intruder in his body flexing from the inside out, blocking up his throat and nose like his head’s held underwater. all he can taste is salt on his tongue. possessed by the memory more than the passing ghost, he stands motionlessly in the centre of the rundown ruins. and mutters to himself. most words are unintelligible, but a few can be picked out over the others: “other ships,” “until dawn,” and “mom?”

any prompting will be met with abject panic. on the flip-side, he’ll be shockingly calm when it comes to chancing by someone else struggling with a ghostly encounter.

as a seasoned “expert” (no) at handling spectres—these are far less hostile than the sunken he dealt with in oregon—his encounter will gear him up to assist others. jonas will be on the lookout for people experiencing the same symptoms he did, despairing or otherwise freaking out. if you’re affected by one, he’ll readily come to your aid. expect a hand on the back, a grab of the shirt, or even a slap if the victim seems particularly out of it.)

Are you okay?

𝚒𝚟. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝.

Hey, do you– do you wanna’ get out of here? I think I’ve had it with the hammering for today.

(time to explore and probably get into trouble, silly shenanigans!! or a medley of both. feel free to use this as a wildcard option or a romantic temporary bonding invite as well, because i’m legit down for anything and everything.)

I wanna’ take a walk. (a pause, before stressing the point.) And I don’t wanna’ go alone.

iii-b

[sneaksweet]

[He's shivering as one of the ghosts passes through him. The experience is as bone-chilling as one would imagine. The heavy press of somebody else's despair sinking into his skin and into his mind.

Despair might be an emotion he knows well, but that doesn't mean he was expecting it. He does freeze up, and it takes a shake before he manages to come back into himself, still somewhat out of sorts.]

Are ghosts supposed to be like that?

[Half way through the question he realizes exactly how stupid it was. Who knows anything about ghosts?]

Juza Hyodo | A3! | Turnskin

[sneaksweet]

I. Ruins

[It's not exactly a great thing to come across. Seeing a place swallowed up by the Cwlyd. So this is what it does? The skeletons of the people are still here, he's not a fan of the place. Whatever happened, nobody seemed prepared for it.

He's out in one of the ruins, kneeling down and squinting at the moss. Botany is something Juza knows absolutely nothing about. It's not his major, it's nothing he's particularly interested in studying, but some of the Wilders did ask for samples. So he squints at the moss and shoves it into a bottle.]

Really think this stuff is edible...?

[Pretty clear he doesn't think it is with the grimace on his face.]

II. Northern Outpost

[It's easy enough to lose himself in the work. As long as he knows what things need to be where, he's wrapped up in the rhythm of it. If it's noon, he hasn't taken a break since breakfast. On the other hand, he doesn't really seem tired. Is that being a Turnskin or is that just him? It's not like Juza can really tell.

If he sees somebody struggling with moving something he'll speak up.]

I can take that.

III. Wildcard

[Something else you want to do? Shoot me a PM or DM me at aureatian.]

ii

[sylphid]

[It's not so much struggling as it is getting to balance correctly after picking them up. Three decently sized boxes of supplies like nails and tools and food are stacked on top of each other in Fie's arms, seemingly obscuring her line of vision. By the time he offers, they're settled comfortably in her hold.

So her face pops around the side, eyes looking up at him as one of her snow leopard ears twitches.]

I mean, if you want. I'm managing fine, though. There's more a little back that way, too.

[And 'that way' is indicated by Fie lifting her leg and pointing with her foot.]

I can wait here if you want me to show you where they go.

cloud strife | turnskin | ota unless stated

[bravers]

IIa. The Flora - OPEN

[bravers]

[Volunteering for the caravan escort had been easy. He'd been warned, of course, that this expedition was the furthest the pioneers had ever gone- that it would probably be dangerous and maybe even a little too much to deal with for any mirrorbound freshly arrived and unable to exploit their monster traits in defence, but if anything, Cloud had wanted to do so simply for the sake of having something to do. He... wasn't that used to downtime, not really, and coming from an extended period of it in Mideel hadn't exactly helped with being able to hold still and deal with inactivity. That, and he was curious- any opportunity to leave the confines of the city and actually see the world for what it was, was a plus in his book.

And... yeah, it was pretty different, all right. Temperature-wise? Definitely. While mid-winter and the faintest hints of spring had been one thing within the city, coming here, at the tail end of summer with a hint of the beginnings of autumn all around them with leaves turning reddish-gold on trees certainly was different. Weird, too.

He can't help but look at it all as he trudges along with the rest of the fighters alongside the main caravan, on a march that'd lasted some hours and would no doubt extend a great deal more. (He's fine with that. It takes a lot to get him tired, augmentations and all...) And as leaves crunch underneath his boots, his gaze moves to the person beside him- facial expression changing slightly before he opens his mouth to say something.

...Pointing out what was around them, maybe?
Or asking about it?

...No. Better not. It's stupid to point out what this other person could no doubt make out for themselves. His gaze returns directly ahead of them, and he continues to walk.]

brother nier | nier | vampire

[extirpator]

1. (hunting)

a.
[ he'd spent his childhood steeling himself into a hunter; fortunately, the predation instincts of a vampire come naturally to him. the hunt was what he knew best: the need to watch, assess and prey always overtaking him above all. even the faintest shuffle of feet or rustle of the trees warrants a perk of the ears.

...the nocturnal aspect of his newfound form had lent itself to watching over camp, too. an expanse of aged iron hangs from his back. something dark, darker than the night itself, looms in between the thickets of the trees.

you're in his vicinity before things get particularly ugly. a motion of the hand beckons you to move back. ]

...You can't go back. You'll lead them to camp.

[ there are white eyes staring right back at the two of you. there is no fear in his system; in its place is a crude, animalistic kind of malice. nier stalks on ahead, keeping his head low. ]

Stay behind me.

b.
[ or maybe things have already gotten ugly, oops. either way, you're witnessing a man vault off of a boulder, tearing through the sky with his blade in tow. screeches careen through the air, and the darkness is rendered to shreds. nier launches past you, and his eyes glance back— ]

To your left. Move.

[ there are more, of course. there always are. ]

2. (camp)

[ the trek is a harsh one, even for himself. the sun does not spare him any mercy — even with a decent blood supply and a bond intact, he found himself drifting towards the comfort of the trees and the canopy they offered.

fortunately, that's given him time to caretake. there's an arrangement of dried food, alongside a few medicinal herbs and bandages laid out before him. ]

Make sure to eat. [ he gestures his goods towards you. ] And take care of your wounds properly. Your health is important.

3. (ghost town)

[ night creeps into the abandoned village, draining it of the little energy it had.

with it came the spectres.

he's braced against a wall, doing little more than sitting as he observes. nier stares unblikingly — tiredly, even, as though he's grown desensitized to the sight of it all.

his voice is low when he speaks. ]

Not your memories to feel...

[ said as though he's clarifying an important kind of distinction. ]

This is why, [ a beat. ] we have to kill them all.

[ lovely. ]

4. (leylines)

[ regardless of whether you're well acquainted or not — should nier see a witch lacking in a monster to protect them appropriately, he offers his own sword, hovering over them as they transfer their energy unto the earth.

his back is turned to them, sword unsheathed as his teeth grit. ]

Focus on what you're doing. I'll take care of it.

5. (wildcard)

[ feel free to ask me for something custom! i'm at diakurosawa. ]

zelda.

[extirpator]

[ she's on his back for a chunk of the day. it's a few hours after she's just about eviscerated her own stomach, and the stench clings to them. he'd sensed the infection in the fruit, as vague as it was, but he'd been too late by the time she took that first bite.

it was a reflex, really. one born from panic and a gaping wound.

he'd grown used to the lulled pace of her heartbeat — it picks up from time to time in the throes of panic and involuntarily, his would do the same. when they make camp for the night, he lays out some cloth along the grass; with it is his tunic and arm warmers, both of which serve as a makeshift padding.

there's meat roasting over the fire. alongside it lays a pot of boiled water, some kind of sharp, sweet scent rising from it like steam. ]

Ginseng's good for you. [ is all he says as he motions the pot towards you, beckoning her to drink. ]

louis | beastars | witch

[rightfoot]

i. prep

[ Louis checks and double checked his things in his bag - everything ready for sleep, eating, weapons, and supplies for magic that he may need. Louis had everything he could potentially need, and probably some stuff that he didn't. He was careful to even include some fresh new vegetables - well, celery - that he had picked from his room as a snack.

When packing, he can be found with his right pant leg rolled up. He's checking the painted on runes that he's added for the trip, enchanting pieces of it to help ensure that he can use magic in a bind, if needed.

But, once he knows everything is ready, he decides to take it easy. He checks out the table with temporary Bonding potions and might be found encouraging others to do it (although not really offering himself as someone to bond with in the process). But once he's decided that he's had enough talkinga about how good of an idea it is to bond - he will eat, drink alcohol, and be more delightful as the night goes on since he'll have increasing amounts of alcohol in his system. The life of a lightweight.

If you catch him at the table, drink in one hand, he points to one of the pies. ]

Is there meat in that?


ii. the forest

[ Louis is careful not to touch or keep anything that looks like it could be infected, or is warned has a high chance of infection. He doesn't require much conversation as they walk through the forest together. He doesn't need anyone to pay too much attention to him. He wears his thick gloves, boots, a hoodie that tucks just barely over his stubby antlers, and a mask that fits snugly over his muzzle. He's doing what he can to ensure that even when he gathers unaffected things - he doesn't cause any problems.

The lack of wildlife was, frankly, unsettling to hikm. And at any of the points where they may take a break, he'll note: ]

There's nothing else but us out here.

[ Which is, frankly, odd to him. At the very least, he'd expect to see wildlife - animals on four legs, small birds, and so forth.

He can also be caught trying to approach the nomadic Monsters, just unable to reach them before they're gone. He'll ask if you saw them, too, if he sees you awake or trying to approach them just as he was. ]

iii. ruins

[ If you catch Louis going through the houses and homes. If there's something sharp, he's probably grabbing it - especially the axes. Not only for himself, but he knows that they could just simply be useful. Plus, he could test out some cool tricks combining them with his magic. Feel free to catch him fitting as much as he can into any space he has left in his bags. He may even opt to stuff some food in his mouth to make room.

Speaking of edible things - Louis has definitely decided to taste the moss. Watch as a deer scoops up a little and just eats it - it doesn't look infected, after all. It tastes good to him. He's not super fond of the texture, but the effects of it? Amazing. He feels good. And he takes out any empty containers he has and starts scooping them in, filling them up one by one. There's plenty of this around that he can take what he wants, and they can take what they want, too.

At night, the sense of forboding is quite a lot, but Louis will put his best foot forward to not make it seem like it's impacting him as much as it is. He doesn't want others to know that he's bothered so deeply by the dread. He's glad to distract with conversation, if anyone needs it. Or, he'll bother anyone who seems to have withdrawn as a result of it. Despite his appearance, he'll note: ]

Creepy.

iv. wildcard

[ Want a custom thing or want to make somethin' up? you can also hit me up at agalio or disc Undercuts#6759 ]

i

[yesdoubt]

[Momo manages to only pause for the briefest of moments at being addressed by a bipedal deer, though it does immediately bring to mind a whole lot of questions about how a world like that would even work. Especially if he's asking about meat content, because he's not sure he entirely wants to think about a meat industry in a world where animals are humanoid.

So all those thoughts get booted straight out of his head right now, because he's not absolutely murdering the mood by asking a question like that.] It's kind of hard to tell the meat and vegetable ones apart from the outside. Want me to smell it for you?

[As jokingly as it's put, it's a legitimate enough offer, since Momo is very much a meat-eater and he can definitely smell the difference between a meat and a vegetable dish despite not having a animal-tier nose.]

emil västerström ☆ stand still. stay silent. ☆ witch

[incinerating]

☆ Adventuring We Will Go (Tomorrow)

[The whole concept of a 'packing party' isn't entirely foreign to Emil, the Cleansers had done similar before going out on a mission. They're providing rucksacks that hold a lot more than he'd anticipated, but thankfully he knows exactly how and what to pack for an expedition into a diseased wilderness. Food rations, cooking pots, tarps, spare clothing, first aid supplies, all of it bought with his own money from his stupid part-time job. On top of that he's stocked up on the supplies he needs to make more explosives besides the ones that still sit on the bandolier slung low around his waist along with the sheaths for his matching short sword and dagger, both of which are polished, sharpened, and ready to use. The handgun tucked behind them is just as clean and ready to use if needed, probably as a last resort.

The packing part is actually very utilitarian and quick, and he doesn't let himself get distracted, but once that's done, he heads straight over to the refreshments table. He's always had a weakness for street food - grilled sausages and pastries and hand pies, and this doesn't disappoint. The meat and fruit pies are great, and they have surprisingly good ålaladåb here. He's scooping up a spoonful of it from the cup and putting it in his mouth when he sees someone else approaching and offers the last of his spoonful to Kitty, who turns her nose up at it. A quick chew and swallow, and he gestures vaguely at the table where the jellied eel is.]

You should try it. The seasoning is actually really good.

☆ Temporary Bonding (Closed to Plotting Partners)

[This temporary bonding thing isn't something he'd ever really heard of, so he's definitely interested in checking out the potions and asking about how it works and everything. Even more, he's interested in trying it out on this trip, particularly when he hears that there's no issues with sharing emotions or annulment problems when you use them.

But it's still a little nerve-wracking trying that kind of thing with strangers, so he glances around first to see if he can spot anyone he knows, leaning against the table.]

☆ The Silent Forest: Flora

[Emil's a little drained after having spent most of the day slashing at underbrush with a machete. Thankfully, his gear that came with him from home is pretty well-equipped to keep him from getting scratched by anything infected, complete with thick leather boots and long heavy gloves, long sleeves, and double layers over most of his body, so he hasn't really felt much at risk for infection, though it takes a lot of reminding himself that he's not immune here like he is at home. He's gotta act like he'd expect Reynir to act, besides the being annoying part.

When the procession stops for a bit in a little thicket where those pitcher plants grow, Emil takes the opportunity as a bit of a rest at first, but is soon back into the thick of things. The plants are obviously valuable and helpful, so he has no problem throwing himself into the thicket to help sift through the plants and try to find complete healthy ones. Emil is on his hands and knees with most of his upper body buried into the roots of the thicket, making sputtering noises, and the moment he hears someone coming up behind him, he sits back up with his butt on his heels, shaking his hair out of his slightly sweaty face.]

Hey, would you mind holding these branches back so I can get in there? There's a couple good ones a ways back.

☆ The Silent Forest: Infection!

[It was really only a matter of time before he got cocky because he's so used to being immune to the Rash, where he is absolutely not immune to the Cwyld. But between the pitcher plants and being a trailbreaker with his machete into the depths of Cwyld-infested forest, he ends up making a mistake. It's just a tiny scratch across his right cheek, and he barely feels it at first, just lifts his gloved hand and rubs at it to check if it's bleeding. When he sees only the tiniest smear of blood on his glove, he gets on with things...for a few minutes anyway.

Then it sinks in that the scratch is probably infected, and he goes stiff, a shiver runs down his spine, and he turns to whoever is right nearby.]

Oh my god, my face! I scratched my face! Is it infected? Oh my god, my face is going to fall off!

☆ The Silent Forest: The Solution Aftermath

[When it comes time to flush the ley line with magic, Emil doesn't understand a single bit of the explanation for why, but he's more than willing to try to help. On his knees, he places his bare hands on the ground and follows the explanations from the Witches in charge of how to push his magic into the line. He hasn't had much practice with magic, but this is easy enough and he puts as much as he can into it - apparently he has a decent well of magic available, particularly with Kitty sitting beside him with her tail curled around her, focused intensely on the line, and when it's done he feels like he's actually helped.

Afterward, though, he's dizzy and just a little bit nauseated and his hands hurt and he ends up collapsing in the grass near the edge of the camp, closing his eyes for a moment and moaning softly.]

☆ The Northern Outpost: Controlled Burns

[Once they've reached the area set for the new outpost, Emil helps out with the exploring, heading out with anyone who's willing to go with him to scout out the area and mark down any kind of possible dangers. And when he's not exploring, he's helping out with clearing out little patches of Cwyld anywhere near the buildings. Thankfully, he's an expert at cleansing diseases with fire from various types of terrain.

Emil can be found here and there in the area of the outpost, crouching down to look at patches of infected grass or little copses of infected trees, setting up the necessary precautions to make sure the blaze is contained, and then using a firestarter and his metal lighter to get things lit up. Taking a step back from his latest fiery masterpiece, he brushes his hands together and observes, looking completely satisfied.]

What do you think? Awesome, right?

☆ Wildcard

[If none of these prompts work for you, feel free to draft up something new, Emil will be everywhere throughout the event doing pretty much anything; also if you're playing the type not to approach and can't work in an approach for any of my prompts, feel free to have your character just milling around and I'll have Emil approach! If you'd like to plot something out or have any questions, or if you'd rather I tag in to your top-level, hit me up by PM, private plurk (or add me) at caffemisto, or on discord at coffee #6251. I'd love to plan something!

👀✨

[usurpers]

[ before they left— there had been something eren wanted to try. call it a test run of sorts. approaching emil was rather easily when people naturally make way for you, he only . . . had to be a little patient with the scurrying, which wasn’t a problem. the elephant-sized dragon walks with his body low and his tongue a-flicking as any prowling reptile, rose gold colored armor highlighting his charcoal scales and accents of summer sunsets.

he’s hard to miss coming to begin with (unless you’re faced away), but when he does arrive at the table, his neck snakes and striking blue eyes pierce into the witch— if he was occupied in seeing him before, the hiss of his tongue close to his back might be an indication to turn. ]

Emil.

[ or, just that. a grating, almost gurgling voice you’d expect an animal to say if one ever tried to speak. ]

Asura | Original | Witch

[mirshikar]

( open and closed starters below! got an idea for a wildcard? go ahead and toss it my way! 👌🏽 want a tailor-made starter? feel free to hmu @ the CR meme to work something out! )

▶ruins of a past life (daytime) | open!

[mirshikar]

[ In the ruins of the old settlement, Asura can be found before the emptied bookshelves of the town archives, library, and the private collections of homes. And it's strange, isn't it, to see someone who possessed such great radiance and zeal during the trek through the Silent Forest be so very, very still. In the midst of scrying upon the patterns of book bindings left in the dust, Asura is rendered as motionless as the skeletons and remains of the area surrounding until the moment when abruptly he is not, and he turns to you with an an outstretched hand, gold talons glinting in the light which filters in through the high windows. That Asura seems more Monster than Witch with his draconic talons, scales, and horns is something of intrigue, certainly, but what is by far more captivating is the clouded white which has overtaken the green of his eyes, trails of the pale color streaking from their corners like some unearthly mist.

And with a voice that seems to resonate from (and perhaps is held in suspension between) multiple planes, Asura is compelling when he speaks: ]

Take my hand and see what I see.

[ Should you grasp his hand, your eyesight will blot with visions of the ones responsible for removing the books from their resting places: Monsters, none too dissimilar from the roving band of Harpies and Arachne which had made its presence known on the second night of the expedition. The Monsters boast old injuries and amputations consistent with the most brutal of Cwyld treatments, but before any more of the past can be revealed—

The spell dissipates, your gaze returns to the present, and the magic lifts.

Almost languid, after that, the slope and roll of Asura's shoulders, like he were cooling down from a run when he sighs: ]

Would've liked for there to be more here. [ Asura's eyes fall closed for a moment, then two, and when they reopen they are as green as they have ever been, if not fatigued from employing magic much too soon after pouring so much power into the leyline of the forest. ] But it's a start, yeah?

[ So buddy.... now that the divination show is on the road, you gonna keep holding his hand, or what? It's cool either way. ]

Hector | Castlevania | Faun

[petcromancer]

The Faun-a of the Forest

[Hector was advised to form a bond before setting out on this trip, but when has he ever made the wise choice? He has come by himself, walking on aching, morphing feet, delving deeper into the wilds. When he can distract himself with work during the day, he is fine.

The night time is harder. Without travel or study of the wildlife to keep him occupied, he…begins to worry. He is being watched. There are predators lurking in the forest, and they are hungry. There are guards posted, but Hector doesn’t know them. If one of those creatures of the night crept in under the cover of darkness, it could drag him away. He wouldn’t be missed.

Sleep is elusive. Hector digs through one of the packs and finds a flask. He takes a calming sip, then another. Soon enough, he’s gulping. It doesn’t alleviate the chill running down his spine as he stares out into the darkness around the camp.]

The Ruins at Night

How long have you lingered here?

[Hector has taken a seat on the stone rubble of a fallen wall. He watches the ghosts that wander the settlement. These, at least, are not a source of fear. Pity, maybe. Curiosity, definitely. Is there no place for them to move onto? Does something bind them here? He doesn’t flinch away as they draw near.]

Do you really have nothing to say?

[The spirits who stay anchored to the mortal plane without magical interference usually have a purpose, either revenge or regret.

But when the first spirit touches Hector, all he gets from it is an unearthly chill that leaves him shivering violently.]

The Holes at the Outpost

[There are dueling impulses at play at the edge of one of the dirt holes. On the other side of the hole is a wild creature, with sharp teeth and claws. It is a dangerous predator…but also a curiosity that Hector can’t resist trying to lure closer. He’s waited for hours to catch site of one after he heard the whispers around the outpost.]

Shhhh, you have nothing to fear. Come on…

[He hasn’t brought any meat with him—it has begun to turn his stomach lately—but he does have bread in his pack, and he is tearing off chunks of it and tossing it to the growling hyena, with no mind turned to what he will do when he gets it close, or what he’ll eat on the journey home if he survives this encounter.]

That’s a good boy…or girl…good whatever you are.

Wildcard

[[Other ideas? Hit me up at [Bad username or site: “demonrubberducky" @ plurk.com], pm, or Lisa#9166 on Discord.]]

Faun-a of the Forest

[quickwhip]

[ When night falls, Trevor feels more alive and not so tired and drained. Sure he's brought a cloak with him and sure, he's kept the hood up during the day. But it still leaves him feeling lethargic for the most part. So with the night having come, he's out and about in a more lively manner, hood knocked back... and catching sight of a certain ex-forgemaster downing what he can only guess is alcohol from a flask. Could be water. But... who knows with him.

With twigs and leaves coming to snap and crunch beneath his boots, he comes up to Hector with his cloak curled around him some thanks to the cool night breeze drifting by. ]

Thought I told you to lay off the beer.

Lan Xichen | Witch | ota

[zewu_jun]

I. Adventuring We Will Go (Tomorrow)

[He might be brand new to Geargadas and still learning, but what better way to learn than to see the world properly? Admittedly, a bit of Lan Xichen's motivation is coming from stubbornness. If the world is demanding that he leave the comfort and solace of the Frost Room, then he will go where he pleases and face the world on his own terms. He politely declines the suggestions--then admonishments--about getting a temporary Bond, insisting that he won't hold the group back by any means. He packs up with everyone else, only really showing confusion at the table with all of the various types of food laid out. That he looks at like a puzzle he doesn't know how to approach.]

...Food here is quite complex.

II. The Silent Forest

[He volunteers without question when the Wilders ask for volunteers to help cleanse the leyline. While he's still learning how to really use his own magic, pushing raw energy is something he has done as a child. That much he can accomplish. It's harder, yes, and not as familiar as channeling his qi, but it's similar enough that he can make it work with a lot of effort. Of course, he tires out much quicker and is sweating and trembling from pain after only ten minutes or so, but he grits his teeth and stays on the ground, pushing through it. Eyes closed and concentration taken up completely on drawing out his energy, Lan Xichen is blind and exposed to the threats around him. He can feel himself growing lightheaded, but stopping doesn't feel like an option either. Soon, the shaking and heat under his skin gets worse. He might be delirious, but now he can't get up.]

No. Just a little more.

III. Ruins of a Past Life
a. Dealing with Ghosts

[When they reach the settlement and see the aftermath of the outbreak, Xichen attempts to do some good for the forgotten people. It's already dark when he manages to finish digging some graves and put at least a few bodies to rest with belongings alongside them and a few offerings he managed to find. His magic is still drained and he can't consider fighting when the ghosts start appearing. He stands next to his chosen grave site, watching as the silently crying phantoms go by or imitate past habits. A few more aggressive ghosts catch sight of him as he pulls out his flute, turning angrily toward him as he begins to play a gentle, soothing song. Some seem to pause, but not all of them, and he's still weak on his feet. Still, he seems intent on giving them a musical offering, even if they are intent on lashing out at him.]

b. Practice Makes... Adequate?

[Okay, so he probably should have been more trained before taking on this kind of exploration. Now that they are on site and have some time to rest and Lan Xichen can try to recover more, he can admit that he isn't as ready to be out and involved as he wants to be. So clearly the only solution for this problem is to train. Far too early in the morning he's up and meditating, trying to connect to this new magical energy that is part of him, reaching inward to make sense of it and grasp it like he controls his qi at home.

By mid-morning, he's practicing with his sword. He finds a clear spot and practices familiar moves, trying to also channel magic into the blade and push his energy through it to lend it some enchantment. For a lot of the time, this doesn't achieve what he wants. Then, randomly, a sudden surge of magic connects with his intent just right and suddenly the blade flies out of the sheath, launching itself through the air away from him. He starts in surprise, looking aghast if the sword comes close to smacking anyone passing by him, even if it would have hit pommel-first.]

Ah, are you alright?! Did it hit you?

IV. Wildcard

[Give me anything else that strikes your fancy! Help this poor man figure things out. You can plot with me at teaandreveries or just surprise me.]

iii.b

[yesdoubt]

[Momo is very much a morning person anyway, and while he's at least started training with his magic before the trip (honestly, he's been the equivalent of grinding since he attended his first class), he's not as versed with it as he'd like. His total lack of experience with any form of inner energy prior to now means he's hesitant to progress until he knows he has the basics absolutely down to a science, so he's trying to maintain a consistent level of practice even while out on the expedition.

He's looking for a quiet spot to take up when something fast moves in the corner of his eye and he drops instinctively into a crouch, head turning as he feels something pass very slightly to one side of him. It takes him a moment to register that it's a flying sword, and he turns his head back in the other direction on the logic that it probably has an owner, at about the same time said owner speaks up.]

Nope, it passed me, I'm fine. [Momo bounces back upright with a powerful, energetic motion, spreading his arms as if to show off how untouched he is.] Though I can't say I've ever had a sword shot at me before. Is that normal where you come from?

[He's taking this entirely too in stride, honestly, but that's partially because he'd feel bad adding any further worry in this situation.]

[Fauna - Closed to Asura]

[enkidoh]

[Once Enkidu told Ozymandias that whatever plague there was, that it lied within the city itself. That, compared to the Rathmores' evil, the Cwyld was nothing. They were wrong. The sight of the dead trees is upsetting, the absence of animals, of life is absolutely dreadful. And it isn't something they can get used to. Everything is dead. How can everything die in such a way?

Perhaps it has been foolish to go out so quickly after everything that has happened. But if anything, Enkidu knows that they have to focus on their strength and their magic. They need to heal and become able to face their friend in battle again. And that is why they cannot allow themselves to dwell on all that has happened.

It is the night of the second day and they follow Asura silently, holding on to the spear they have carved out of wood.]

So this is what awaits the city? [Enkidu hasn't spoken a lot during the trip and when they finally do they whisper. Perhaps, because of their temporarily bond, Asura is aware of how all this death and decay dreads them.] Our magic cannot undo this. I know that once, this forest has been magnificent. Lush and green, full of life.

[They frown.]

This world is dying.

[mirshikar]

As all things are, Enkidu. [ Dying, that is to say. For all that Asura holds affinity for the forest (and for all the life that it is his edict to protect), his heart is not so heavy as his temporary bondmate's as they traverse the Wilde that is riddled with the rot of the Cwyld and fouler things. Undeniable, that the Silent Forest is akin to a Gravewight's domain— illuminated by the incandescence of Asura's familiar hovering overhead, the naked boughs of blackened trees rise like curving bones, and the unearthly stillness of the wood is no different from the charnel houses which are watched over by Darklings and their kind, yet... To one such as Asura, who has known many battlefields and passed over many corpses, casualties and remains (and the uninfected flora which blooms from beneath the husks of trees) speak to a singular truth: ]

This world and all others are bound to cycles. [ After war, there is peace. After infection, there is cleansing. After death, there is always a resurgence of life. Any of these analogies, Asura might have spoken into existence, but instead he chooses that which is most familiar to him to break the hold of silence over the forest (and to draw any and all threats into the range of two lancers at the ready): ]

The summertide which encompasses the Wilde will soon cede to autumn's first chill, then autumn will bend to winter's sorrow-frozen embrace, and winter to spring's fever and fair-weather daze. [ This is inexorable. A summer an autumn. A rise and fall. Forests crumble to wasteland, and so too have cities done the same in every realm which Asura has come to walk. ] And when summer arises anew to stride the forest with its roiling heat, autumn will be at its heels again.

[ And in this, there is the promise of hope, one which might raise both Enkidu's voice and spirits: ] We are not meant to undo this, though perhaps we have been brought here to begin a new cycle, one where life – lush and green – will be able to flourish in ways different than before.

Your spear— [ Giving pause in his step, Asura lifts his head, kajal-smudged eyes sharpened with predator's alacrity and instinct as he becomes aware of movement beyond the fall of their own footsteps. He hears it first (his draconic's horns heighten this sense, absorbing the sound which echoes in this hollowed-out forest) and knows it to encroaching but distant, enough so that there is time enough to ask: ] —is it warded against the Cwyld?

[ Handsome as the wooden spear is (Asura, he can recognize a carver's work, for he is one himself), he would hate for the instrument to be unusable after a single altercation. ]