april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

[beleos]

THE BEGINNING

Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenroux’s occupation and talk of ‘the Blight,’ worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.

Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.

After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yima’s manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an ‘incident’ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterward…

The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasn’t just about the Blight anymore.

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE

Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• GROWTH: Contrary to the Blight’s normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.


• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REGRESSION: NPC’s in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocket’s radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
  • The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, they’ll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
  • Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
  • Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
  • Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearer’s past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.

HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE

The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yima’s manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

• SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPC’s in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.
• In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.

• CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

• REFLECTIONS: NPC’s in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearers’ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
  • Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocket’s radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called “mirror-Bearer” ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.
• Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.
• Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.
• Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPC’s and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.
• Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.

ENTREE-TING HELP

The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.

And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.

But you cannot understand...

Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.

You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.

When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.

MISC NOTES

• Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
• The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
• For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
• Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
• The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
• Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
• Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
• HAVE FUN!! ♥

CODING

Comments

roots regression

[muchalucha]

[ As soon as time had stopped, Quetzalcoatl had summoned her sword near reflexively. This is her first time encountering one of these pockets, but she’s heard of them at this point, though only partially. Hearing about places where time simply seems to stop is hard to miss, but those half-heard rumors hadn’t come with any further explanation than that. So, it’s best to be cautious.

However, the moment that her sword appears, the smell also hits her, and Quetzalcoatl makes a light, discontent noise. Most of them are perfectly familiar to her—blood and earth, something burned and something flesh—but the ones that she doesn’t identify as readily are more perplexing when all mixed together. Her brow knits together in confusion, but she starts to lift her sword from her side when Mamoru speaks. ]

Oh, you’re not—

[ Frozen, obviously, so she stops. She nods with an affirmative noise. Considering his quiet and the intensity of the order, she’ll trust him to take the lead. ]

[prizeneck]

[Whoever this is, she's transcendent.

He senses petrichor first and lightness to feet that was impossible in someone of her stature. Mamoru feels the thrum in the air hit the back of his throat in a permanent state of lightning about to crack, frustratingly hovering and inwardly urgent at the same time.

In his mind's eye, he feels he could remember colors.

When he does look at her, it's right when Quetz's sword manifests to palpability, and he has to do a double-take when the outline of it is projected by his shades. Where did that come from?

Still, despite the thrum, despite the looming promise of a storm, Mamoru quiets and nods in appreciation to her assent. The swordsman moves closer to the end of an aisle — TAKE ONE FOR THE PRICE OF TWO, he, unfortunately, can't read— and beckons her to follow with two fingers over his shoulder.

Whatever or whoever this is, it's afraid, but about to lash. He recognizes the feeling well— not being able to afford any chances.

Walking around a pyramid stack, something clatters loud in the next aisle. There's a groan, and he can't believe what he's hearing.

When Mamoru finally reaches the spot, he finds nothing and no one. They are, however, still around, leaving damp trails on the floor. Nostrils flaring, the breath he takes is deep enough to almost make it look like he's about to dive. His heartbeat keeps thrumming in his ears; he almost cannot hear his own voice, and he doesn't know why.

(He does, but it's impossible. It's uncanny.)] They're afraid.

[muchalucha]

[ Her sword likely also stands out to him for being a very unusual shape, at least unless Mamoru has some familiarity with pre-Colonial Mesoamerican warfare. which in a way I wouldn’t be surprised like good for mams She holds it defensively for now, though since in the quiet of the store, she doesn’t get the feeling that they’re in an ambush or something like that. With the smell, she just thinks someone is injured and on the defensive.

Her eyes follow the direction of the trail, but the deep breath that her companion takes makes her look to him with a little concern in turn as she tenses too. She’s a fighter, so she can read the tension in his body language for being about to move quickly… But he doesn’t. ]

Mm. I think so too.

[ She turns the sword in her hand so that the flat, blunt end is what’s bared more than the razor-sharp fragments of obsidian that line its edge. ]

Let’s help them, yes?

[prizeneck]

[While not entirely knowledgeable about the true nature of that sword—though he does give a double-take because where did she get that from? Was it sitting on the shelves?— Mamoru does recognize the shape of it as something that came from the Spanish invasions in south and central America, a club-like sword, that had been exhibited in the Royal Armoury of Madrid until a fire destroyed it. He had, of course, honed in on the idea of a bladed weapon that's forever lost and can't help but save that bit of information for later.

Because, of course, he's wondering how he could go against it. His fingers almost twitch at the idea.

Mamoru doesn't nod at Quetz's proposal. Something too familiar is pulling at his gut, keeping him on his toes and his hair on end. He hears a curse, almost coughed out, and the knot between his brows softens.

He's heard that before. Careless.]

I swear to— this place. [Swearing to a god may be funny because Mamoru, despite knowing literal gods are walking alongside him in this world, despite the nature of the person next to him that he's not aware of yet, he's still a nonbeliever. If anything, the proximity of those and the powered-up people only made him believe that they ain't all that, they're just entities who are maladjusted to the human reality in comparison.

But that's neither here nor there. He walks around the shelving and his feet meet the slosh of water. In front of him is a crouched figure, one he knows well and not at all. Knows well from another angle.

Himself.]

Kicked the hornets' nest, huh?

[The shape jerks, but frowns, and stops himself. It hurts even to tilt his eyebrows. Mamoru remembers that: breathing hurt, the clothes on his collar hurt. Still, the young Mamoru frowns. You're— Who are you? ]

[Mamoru doesn't really know how to reply.] The nobody you become.

[muchalucha]

[ As they round the corner, Quetzalcoatl’s expression is sharp and hardened as she’s prepared for a fight, but she’s taken aback at who they find as well. Not as much as Mamoru himself, certainly, but there’s enough of a resemblance that it only takes her a moment to make the connection. Her expression softens to gentler surprise, and she looks between the younger Mamoru and the one standing next to her. Her expression is curious and questioning, as this is the first she’s heard of this phenomenon, but…

The question and the answer make her frown again. Her grip on the sword relaxes. She doesn’t think this is a threat, at least. ]

…You?

[ She questions reflexively, even though it’s obvious. She looks back to his younger self, and she can see that he’s hurt—hurting, more accurately. She takes a half step forward, this time speaking to the crouched Mamoru. ]

Mm, people here to help, right?

[ There’s a question in her tone, but that part is for the one she came in with. ]

can't believe i used the same icon twice..,.

[prizeneck]

[Any other moment and Mamoru would have marveled at Quetzalcoatl’s readiness and aggression, something that feels like actual enjoyment for a good fight, too. It's rare, or at least it used to be, what with all the particular characters in this place, so Mamoru would still consider it so.

Though this is not the time or place to focus on that. He wants to scoff at her question, his mind reeling with whatever thoughts had been going through his mind as he kept close to the water. He shakes his head slightly. Back then, he knew that the only people around were aiming to hunt him. He knew that only he could count on himself at that moment.

And yet, his younger self breathes something close to recognition, and with it, a realization that he doesn't remember. Because it hadn't existed back then.

Mamoru survives the attack, even recently blinded. He possibly, most likely, subdues the hunter.]

Don't let your guard down. [He crouches, a silly and ironic little gesture that's meant to taunt. Two blind men facing each other, and the younger one rattles, caught.] You're not where you're supposed to be.

[The young Mamoru frowns. It hurts to do so, and yet, he does it all the same. 'So it's really...'

You. Me. Whichever. His present self hums in acquiescence.

And then turns slightly towards Quetz.] This ever happen to you?

[Who the fuck knows, in this place.]

[muchalucha]

[ Still following Mamoru’s lead, Quetzalcoatl waits as he crouches down to speak with…himself. It’s not something completely strange to her, but she also has a higher tolerance for the strange than most. ]

Mm, no, not exactly…

[ Definitely not in Kenos, at least. But during her life presiding over her domain? There had been events that weren’t far off. It wasn’t so much viewing her past as seeing other aspects of herself or of Tezcatlipoca, though. Things get very, uh, metaphysical when you’re a god.

It’s clearly nothing to worry about now, though. Quetzalcoatl also comes to crouch next to Mamoru, but she smiles warmly at his younger self. That tension is still partially present, but it largely evaporates. Her natural instinct is kindness and comfort, after all. ]

It’s okay. You’re safe now here with us, at least.

[prizeneck]

[The skin between his brows furrows deeper at Quetz's claim. The nurturing, caring side of her beams warm and tender that he can almost feel it seep through his sleeve and thaw at his arm, something he would appreciate if this was someone innocent who ended up in the midst of all of this.

Yet, this time—

He doesn't remember how sharp the instincts of his younger self were until he hears the surface of the water rustle, the circles of the unrested stirring from his other form rising the dampness in his boots.

Enough to sense what he's coming to a conclusion about, then.] He doesn't belong here.

[Even himself, even now, he believes this.]