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

[epiprocta]

[ And what the hell is he supposed to do with that? His ears flick back briefly to flatten against his hair, and his tail gives a stress whap against the floorboards as he shoots Gray-the-Larger a backwards glance.

But it's not like he can really see where she's hiding from here, so. ]

... are you hurt? [ He grimaces to himself as he says it, since he's assuming she won't see it anyway and he's also pretty sure it's not just that she's hurt. That'd be too simple for the bullshit that usually happens here. ] Just hiding like that's not gonna help.

[gravings]

[ The lump doesn't answer immediately, its little brain trying to fight his reasoning and losing. Moreover, it sounds like maybe he knows what will help.

The lump finally looks up at Gen, pulling the shawl closer around its shoulders so that it uncovers its head. Not yet having developed her face-hiding compulsions, Gray-the-Smaller pays no mind to the nakedness of her head. Just by looking at her, there's no immediate clue to why she might be in pain; her face is uninjured and very much like what one might expect a five-year-old Gray to look. Yet her expression is taut as she looks up, only broken up by a widening of her eyes as she takes in Gen's big old ears and rough appearance. Though she doesn't remark on the ears (yet), she stares openly with wonder until she remembers that she was asked a question. ]

Everything hurts all over. I think I'm ill...

[ She's felt too miserable to move, but now that this man is here... A bit of hope lights her eyes. ]

Can you take me to the doctor?

[epiprocta]

[ His first though is that she doesn't look hurt. And if it's that she's sick or something, then he sure as hell doesn't know how to help her; even if they could find some sort of pharmacy, he has no idea what fixes what. It's not like there's actually a functioning doctor stuck in this strange, frozen bubble of time with them, either.

But still ... as tactless and brusque as he usually is, Gen knows better than to say as much. Especialy when that tiny version of Gray looks at him with huge, watery eyes. As much as he doesn't like dealing with kids, the fact that Gray had asked him to deal with this means he'll treat the task with some modicum of gravity.

His tail whaps against the floor once more as he looks away for a moment, brow furrowing sharply and an ear flicking in thought. And then, after a moment of silence: ]

Fine. [ He can lie just fine when he has to, but only enough to be adequate; his affect is a little flatter when he continues. ] But the doctor's office is hard to get to. Might take a little while. [ Maybe if they walk around a little bit, it'll help him figure out what to do for this Gray. ] Can you walk?

[gravings]

[ Baby Gray can probably manage to walk............. but she doesn't want to. She's exhausted and also a small child with a rich history of being ferried around, so she holds her hands straight up in a solemn plea to be picked up, thank you.

Meanwhile, Teen Gray quietly steps out of the bookstore, staying out of the way and out of sight so that she can follow at a safe distance. She pokes into Gen's head via Communion. ]

Please be gentle. Her bones might not be very stable.

[epiprocta]

[ His brow furrows slightly at that obvious request for a carry, and Gen tenses a touch when Gray's words echo through his head, but he otherwise only gives a quiet sigh. And while his usual favored method of carrying people is simply chucking them over his shoulder like a bundle of construction supplies ... ]

Don't squirm.

[ He mutters that demand at a weary deadpan before shifting forward and bending down so he can carefully, as carefully as he can, heft her up in a delicate bridal carry. ]

Gimme an explanation if you know what's going on here. [ Gen adjusts his grip on that little bundle in his arm as he starts trudging out of the store, but otherwise maintains a stony expression and his gaze trained ahead, trying not to make it obvious that he's mentally speaking to the larger Gray at the moment. ] I don't know how to handle sick people.

[gravings]

[ For Gen's care, he gets a fuss-free Baby Gray in his arms who automatically curls into his hold with her head laid snugly against his arm. She doesn't expect to have any input on how they'll get to their destination, so she focuses instead on trying to shut out her aches by squeezing her eyes shut and hoping to fall asleep. Already she's more settled than when she was sitting by herself, though she continues to tremble intermittently.

Teen Gray responds, remaining out of sight. ]

She isn't sick in the way she's thinking. Her body is changing into someone else's.

[ It's strange to speak of things as if they're happening to someone else. She's sure Gen will demand more answers, so she continues. ]

It was a long process. I'm not sure how much longer it'll take without seeing her myself... but everything will be moving around inside of her, little by little.

[ Cracking and scraping, squelching and pounding. The slow sounds of it still live in Gray's memory like teeming ants, microscopic but amplified to her captive ears. Maybe Gen could hear them if he pressed his ears to the Gray in his arms.

In any case, Gray can feel that she's beating around the bush with the details. Even now she hesitates to let go of the secret her village fostered. The secret doesn't matter now if it ever did, but she can't help fearing that it will change the way he thinks of her. ]

[epiprocta]

[ He’s sure as hell not about to press his ear up against some terrified little girl, but he doesn’t really need to in order to get a good idea of how much this smaller version of Gray is hurting. Those little trembles in his arms are more than telling enough, and Gen frowns to himself as he tries to keep his grip gentle against that tiny, delicate weight in his hands.

And here, he’d almost been able to forget at times that Gray hails from a completely different world from his own. They might have both been born to shitty, insular hometowns that even now refuse to relinquish them easily from their shackles, but Gray’s hometown was more than just a too-small cage, wasn’t it? ]

… I can’t do anything with that information.

[ And while Gen has no qualms about pointing out the fact that, yes, Gray is beating around the bush with that explanation, he at least has the minimum tact to say it in a slightly less abrasive fashion than he could have.

The tiny Gray in his arms curls up smaller, shivering, and the larger Gray must feel the way Gen’s emotions prickle with discomfort and nervous energy. Though if she’s wondering if it’s her and her circumstances that Gen is feeling so ill at ease about then, she’ll get her answer soon enough as Gen grits through their mental connection: ]

Tell me something more useful first. Like — what made you feel better when you were like this. Where should I take her.

[ ‘What should I do to help?’ Because while Gen is supremely unaccustomed to being kind to small children and is thus feeling appropriately nervous, he’s at least willing to make the effort in this moment, if only because it’s for Gray’s sake. Any questions of what exactly is going on with this younger version of her can wait until after this more pragmatic issue has been addressed. ]

[gravings]

[ Gray can at least appreciate that he's taking extra care for the child in his arms, as gruff as his initial approach was. If he's nervous, it means he cares — about handling a fragile child, she assumes. There's a long pause in reply to his questions, not hesitation this time but a genuine search for an answer. ]

You're already doing the best things for her. Acknowledging that something might be wrong... and holding her while she hurts.

[ Those were the things she wished she had back then. It probably isn't satisfying to someone like Gen who prefers a direct solution, though. ]

A painkiller might help, but I don't know much about them. If you know where I can find any, I can bring some back.

[epiprocta]

[ A buzz of something grumbly and irritable comes through their connection, but only because Gen's trying to refrain from making any audible noises of complaint and scaring the smaller Gray. ]

Do I look like a walking map to you? [ In other words -- he has no idea where she might be able to find painkillers. At least that grumbly buzz subsides soon enough to give way to something like a sigh, and then: ] ... go look for some. I'll handle this for now.

[ He narrowly stops himself from adding, 'I guess' at the end, because it would be tragically uncool to voice such uncertainty. Even if he really is quite uneasy about dealing with this tiny, delicate child in his arms. It's like having to carry around something made of glass.

There's an awkward pause before he clears his throat, and when he does speak, it's almost more that he's quietly announcing something, rather than speaking to the small Gray directly. ]

I'm going to look for someplace to sit down for a bit. [ Another little pause. ] Are you cold?

[gravings]

[ Gray leaves without further word, wracking her brain since Gen doesn't feel like being help in this specific department. She doesn't even know if painkillers exist here as they did on Earth, or what name they might go by. It seems she'll just have to put her critical thinking skills to the test.

In the meantime, the littler Gray doesn't stir. Even if Gen needs breaks to get to the doctor, wherever that is, she doesn't mind. For now, she's pacified enough by the fact that he's taken the wheel. She speaks into his arm at a mumble. ]

Nuh-uh. You're warm. [ She continues as if it were natural: ] Are you a werewolf?

[epiprocta]

[ Alright. He’d wondered if maybe the right thing to do would be to wrap his jacket around her, but if she’s doing fine, then no need. Gen gives a grunt in acknowledgement, wracking his (tiny) brain for any further ideas of what he can do to solve this situation — and looks down at his charge with a raised eyebrow at that question.

It’s so out of left-field that he kind of welcomes the distraction from the more pragmatic problem of ‘what do I do with this sickly child.’ ]

A werewolf? [ A pointy ear flicks before he gives a little huff. ] No. I’m … [ Well, human. ‘Human who ended up looking like some anime dog-person bullshit.’ But for the sake of simplifying this conversation for a young child: ] … I’m a dog. I do know a guy who’s a wolf, but he’s nicer than I am. And his ears are fluffier. They’re stupidly fluffy, like they were cut out of a fur coat.

[ Pause. Another ear-flick in thought. ]

Shouldn’t you be scared asking that? If I’m a werewolf. What if I was, and I was going to eat you?

[ Do werewolves eat people? He doesn’t really know his Hollywood monsters. ]

[gravings]

[ This isn't at all how Little Gray would expect a human-shaped dog to act, but as he's doing something nice for her, she will believe him. ]

Your teeth aren't big enough.

[ She wields the powerful yet misguided logic of a small child. As per the historical record Little Red Riding Hood, wolves have big teeth and mouths big enough to swallow grannies up, of which Gen has neither. But since he's a dog, she will do her due diligence by reaching up to try to gingerly pat him on the head. ]

Good boy.

[epiprocta]

[ Unfortunately for little Gray, Gen's immediate reflex is to jerk his head back the moment he realizes she's reaching for his head.

But after a moment of looking at her with brow slightly furrowed and lips pressed together thinly, a pointy ear flicking in thought, he gives a tiny, grudging sigh. Then he ducks his head forward properly so she can more easily scritch those ears -- what she actually wants to do, he assumes. ]

My teeth are plenty big.

[ A meaningless little grumble. The curl of his spine as he ducks his head means he automatically pulls her a little closer to his chest; between the firm grip of his arms and the fact that his body runs hot, it's an almost cozy arrangement for her, nestled up close against him as his ear flicks once more. ]

Well ... I guess I'll let you off the hook this time, though.

[gravings]

[ Little Gray's hand withdraws uncertainly when it looks like he doesn't want the headpat after all, but when he grudgingly relents, she breaks into a sunny smile and proceeds to gently pet him on the head with clumsy, childish swipes. Maybe it's the delight of getting an adult to bend to her whims, but his second comment gets a happy giggle out of her, her discomfort finally forgotten for the moment.

She doesn't seem to notice as her skin and clothes begin to wrinkle, and the wrinkles deepen into hard graining. By the time she's satisfied with patting Gen, she's gone brown, and she locks into a pleased expression as she turns completely into a child-sized tree root.

Normal-sized Gray approaches quietly then, having indulged in her bad habit of peeping. She has a mug in hand, evidently the answer she found to the painkiller problem — without need, it seems. ]