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

[baltimores]

[ Amos raises his eyebrows at Lottie's assessment of Eustace — maybe? But he's not going to argue that. For all he knows, Lottie's directions are perfectly legible. But more importantly, she does know the area better than him. He's content to follow her, content to play support as they stumble their way through this, keeping an eye around them as he does.

She might not know what she's doing, but he definitely doesn't, so it's better for the both of them if he gives her any nudges she needs. If she gives him something he can build off of, or even vice versa. So he remains a steady presence at her back as they descend, even as it's creepy that there are people just stuck in motion like that. Unnatural. His silence matches hers, his gaze whipping right to the back of her head as she thinks — no, his gaze whipping around as he hears something, and it's not her sigh.

He's all for giving her a sec, but as he does he's headed towards a stack of crates, past some of the frozen delivery people where something apparently is not frozen, and isn't that a good sign? It takes him just a second of standing before them, waiting to see if something else is going to happen before picking up the top crate to see what's behind it, what else is moving here, if that's their key to their way out.

... And stops, looking past what's there, over to where Lottie is supposed to be. Where she's moved, and he calls out to her, ] Uh, Lottie? Think there's something here.

[ Help?? Because he's. Really not sure what to do with this... ]

[oomfies]

[ She's already wandered a couple steps away, determined to discover if they're caged in here, too, by the time she hears him call out to her. ]

Hm? What?

[ Is her immediate response, wondering if Amos finding 'something' is a good or a bad sign (and in a way she is both dreading and anticipating it, either one, because at least that means they're going in the right direction, right?). It's immediate that she discovers oh, this is bad.

Very bad, actually, when she sees what Amos was trying to signal her to come see by those crates. Lottie feels so stupid for seeing the bomber jacket first (Caroline's), a pretty lavender, before even seeing her own doppelganger. The second thing she sees is the blood, the obscene amount of it coating the pink mules she remembered picking out to match her outfit (a baby pink mini skirt, a crop top that linked up into a choker at the base of her neck), covering the bare expanse of her legs. And then— her face.

This Lottie is so alike and yet so different from who she is right now, that when they make eye contact she laughs something high and broken. Panicked. Scared— so overwhelmingly scared and small that it makes something nasty and strange swirl in her gut watching this. This isn't the first time they've all had to deal with doppelgangers, but this is the first time one hasn't attacked first. And it's clear, when she looks to Amos for help as she hears laughs turn to sobs that she has no idea what to do.

Or, well, she has an inkling— Lottie knows she wants this to stop because it's embarrassing and she doesn't want Amos to see her cry but— ]

I— [ She gives up on that sentence rather quickly, ambling over pensively— which only manages to make her double stand abruptly, taking a step back whenever she takes one forward. It looks like she doesn't even want to be near Amos all that much either, frantically glancing between him and her. ] Amos, do you think..?

[ That she has something to do with this?? ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos looks back over at Lottie, gauging her reaction as she sees what he's come across. The blood wasn't so much a problem for him; more an afterthought, really, as he looks the doppelganger up and down — at least until Lottie's laugh, if it can even be called that. That's when he sets the crate he's holding down (more like drops it, forgets it was even in his hands and lets gravity do the rest), his head whipping back towards her. The real Lottie; the one he knows is his friend, not... not whatever this is.

The real Lottie, who is thoroughly freaked out right now. He could go to her, hold her; he shifts so that he's putting himself very much in between her and whatever this thing actually is. He keeps his eyes on it as he does so, ready to anticipate any sudden movements, anything very much out of place.

Things could be a hell of a lot worse than it taking a step back. His eyes narrow, his head tilting slightly as he watches it, analytical. ]

Maybe.

[ That one's for Lottie, his voice thoughtful, even though his eyes remain on the doppelganger — and when he projects his voice forward to talk to it there's much more of an edge, almost an aggression, waiting to see what it has to say for itself. ]

What're you doing here?

[ Doesn't matter how freaked out the doppelganger might appear to be, either — it's not his Lottie and it's out of place, so it's a threat. That's all that matters here. ]

[oomfies]

[ Her hand immediately seeks out the back of his shirt, latching onto the fabric as she anxiously takes advantage of the barrier (himself) he so easily offers. Her hair tickles his ear, the back of his neck, from how she tries to lean and look over his shoulder, because as much as she wants to ignore this, she can't. So she forces herself to look, to be thoroughly unnerved as the Lottie clad in pink clutches her jacket around her tighter.

Her twin barely acknowledges Amos until she absolutely has to, shoulders trembling but keeping her gaze locked with Lottie's— her brows twisting up and up like she can't believe what she's seeing.

"I don't— I was.." she says, warbles out in a way that is clearly meant to start off confident, like she isn't scared, but it peters out. Her confusion and fear seep into her voice almost immediately, remembering the sticky (steadily, drying) feeling of blood on her skin, her shoes, her hands. "A-am I hallucinating? I took my medication.."

Oh—

The real Lottie, the one sidled behind Amos, breathes in sharply at that. The sound that teeters into something like peeved, like irritated, before she quickly puts both her hands on his ears in an attempt to muffle his hearing (truth be told she isn't even doing it properly, forgetting to keep pressure there halfway through her rant). Which is silly, it is so very silly of her to try and do this, but in a matter of seconds Lottie isn't thinking anymore. She's acting on instinct, speaking through clenched teeth at a volume Amos can definitely still hear. ]

You're not. Real. You're just a fake who didn't take any medication because you are not real and I don't take medication because I don't need to, obviously?!

[ And her double counters, hurt and anger painted across her face, 'I'm the fake? You're the fake— where's Caroline?' She stumbles her way to the wall behind her, sliding her palm across the expanse of it, spreading blood that isn't hers all across it in the hopes of finding a way out. Then, pointedly towards Amos, 'W-who's— who even is that guy??' ]

[baltimores]

[ If he wasn't so sure he didn't have Lottie right there with him, Amos might actually feel unnerved. Bad, at the way this other Lottie is reacting to him — terrified, soaked in blood, so completely out of place from the Lottie he does know. He would want to comfort her, help her. They could burn the clothes, get her a nice hot bath, some relaxing tea...

But Lottie's hair is brushing up against him, her hand digging into the back of his shirt, so he knows that no. No, this Lottie isn't going to get what he would normally try to give her. Because it's not Lottie, and her sharp inhalation reminds him of that fact — before...

He wouldn't have thought twice about what the doppelganger had said were it not for Lottie's much more animated reaction, attempting — poorly — to make sure that he can't hear her. Amos' expression shifts from aggressive to downright baffled as she harps on the idea of medication in particular, and suddenly his original instincts — get rid of the pink Lottie — are replaced with the sheer confusion of one walking into the middle of something chaotic without prior context.

It is, for a moment, all he can do to answer her. ]

I'm Amos.

[ ... It takes another moment for his brain to absorb everything that's been said. For him to comprehend every word that he's heard, filter out the nonsense for what's actually important. There is blood across the wall. They are the only three things that are moving, and one of them is smearing blood across the wall, arguing about who is real and who is fake.

He looks over his shoulder back at Lottie, back up to speed (mostly) (he thinks). ]

Well, we know she's definitely the fake one. And since she's the only abnormality we've found, think we probably need to get rid of her.

[ They can sort out everything after she's gone. Permanently gone, since that's looking like their best way of fixing things, as far as he can tell. ]

[oomfies]

[ She all but releases her hold on his ears just to bratily pat (once, twice, a tad aggressive) at Amos for even introducing himself. There's a big part of her that is naturally territorial, jealous to a degree, and it rears it's head when she's introduced to the idea she'd have to share Amos with herself. Which, haha, will just never happen? Ever? She's frowning intensely before whipping him around to face her. Spinning them to where they could feasibly both keep an eye on the pink Lottie, opening and closing her mouth in a stupor that he even answered her.

And, there's of course the whole "get rid of her" thing. She balks at that, shoulders raising high and panic absolutely coursing through her veins. The Lottie holding his shoulders and whispering vehemently to him is otherwise unbothered, only stating: ]

Yeah, and she's a liar — who lies! Ugh..

[ How can she be so fake, her everything says. ]

But, what, are you thinking like the last time we had clones? Just..

[ Lottie makes a minute (what she thinks is minute, anyway) movement, miming stabbing, a brow raised as she stares evenly at him. Clearly not opposed, but more or less just asking for clarification. ]

[baltimores]

[ Her swats at him just elicit a sense of confusion, a simple What'd I do?? flitting through the air, because like. He answered a question? Why does he deserve to get (mildly) smacked for that??

But that's far and away from the here and now, turns out, as Lottie — the real Lottie — gets most of his attention, the fake Lottie relegated to his peripheral vision, where she at least seems to not be doing anything anymore. So. This should be easy, even if Lottie's still being kinda weird about the whole thing.

But at least judging by that little stabbing motion, they're on the same page. ]

Well, yeah. She's probably got something to do with all this. So, if you got something to stab her with — [ just saying the quiet part out loud — ] I think that's the only real course of action we got here. That, or we keep wandering around through a whole lot of nothing.

[ So really, they have no choice but to kill her! And even though the other Lottie is already clearly stressed out, it's not like she's real, so it's easy to suggest. What else are they supposed to do? If it's not the solution then hey, at least it was worth a shot. ]