Field Mission 5: Il Prigioniero, Part 2

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Once you sacrifice something here, you don't get it back. NAVIGATION Click here for the RNG thread! 1. THE MANAGER'S CHALLENGE A. MEET THE BOSS Once upon a time, there was a man, a woman, and a little boy. They were a family. They loved each other very much. Once upon a time, there was a monster, a protector, and a dreamer. They never asked to be a family. One by one, they fell under the pressures of each other. There are always layers to any story. There are at least two sides to any reality. When a man kills his wife with no consequences, what is the end of the story? Will the universe allow such an unhappy ending? Or are there forces that drag it on long past its natural span? With a single act of resistance, four Reclaimers have Remembered and thereby broken the cycle of the Night Show. But this isn't the end. This is barely the middle. Because the Wonderland you've seen so far is a layer of new pink skin over an ugly infection, one that goes deeper than anything the Bureau has seen so far. You can see what's underneath, now, as the theme park is whipped away in an implosion of void-space to show you . . . Emptiness. A space that is no space, blank and white in all directions. Free of gravity, every Reclaimer in the park — and, shockingly, Angus McDonald — is held in place with hands cupped and outstretched in front of them, all facing the same way. They cannot move. They cannot speak. They are the audience. Before them stands a man. Slim, tall, nondescript. He wears a bow-tie with a pattern of Rolands on it. And he is smiling. "Welcome to my Wonderland! My name is Adrian Morgenstern, and I am the Manager. It's a pleasure to meet you. Each and every one of you have had a very interesting effect on my Wonderland in my absence. Some more than others, and at greater cost to yourselves — but I encourage individual choice in Wonderland, and ownership of personal consequences. Suffering is a part of life. It builds character. "So, I am proud of you. So proud, in fact, that I've decided to bring you all backstage. You kept trying to see behind the curtain, didn't you? You'll really enjoy it. There is a great deal to do, so much to explore, and so many games to play. Every second you breathe in Wonderland is a game with stratospheric stakes. You're very brave to take the risk. "And to make things more interesting, I have set up a very special game for you little detectives, who so love to stick their noses into strange secret corners. I challenge you to a Scavenger Hunt. You accept, because you have no choice. Here is what you must gather: "The vacant bodies of Leonardo da Vinci, Minato Arisato, and Henrik Merryweather. The people who have been lured here after your carelessness shattered their livelihood. Have you located them all already? Or did you miss a few? Ten lost little elves, misled and apprehended. And, lastly— "My son. Bring me my son. Bring Niel to me, and I will give you the Compact." There's a crack in the facade. A literal crack; something in the structure of his face is off suddenly, like something has fractured and slid. One cheekbone higher than the other, a hairline fracture underneath his eye. You blink, and it's fixed. His smile is wide, but his face is whole. Suddenly, in each Reclaimer's outstretched hands (and in Angus's), there is a single three-sided die. On each side is written a word: BODY, MIND, or SPIRIT. "Don't lose these, now! These are your cheat codes. If you find yourself struggling with the scavenger hunt and in need of a little help, you can play a little game of chance to give Wonderland something of yours. It won't take anything that will kill you, don't worry. But it will take things that matter, and it won't give them back. "One more thing, and then I'll let you go. I've given you some cheats, but in order to keep you from finishing the game too quickly, I'm taking something away, too. Everyone, please take good care of yourselves while you're here. You're all precious cargo. And there's no healing in Wonderland." He winks. And blinks out of existence. And suddenly, the nonspace you occupied is gone, and you are Somewhere Else. Back to top 2. WONDERLAND, UNDER THE SKIN B. THE ILLUSION COMES DOWN CW: Emetophobia, body horror, reality caving in on itself For a short time after Adrian leaves, everything is as it should be. Wonderland is Wonderland, but quiet and still aside from the background music. After a few breaths, heartbeats slowing, the music warps and bends like rotting wood, going further and further off key until it grinds. Clangs once, loudly, down to your bones, and halts. The world freezes in absolute silence. Then. A sizzling noise. Burning paper. The illusion starts to die. To your left, the floor peels up like it's made of paper, mist, waving like a mirage before your eyes. Colorful red velvet floors reveal dark green and glowing violet moss and fungus. Gold tile floors give way to ebony wood, gone rock solid in atrophy. Disease. A small black vine reaches from the floor towards you, towards Life, but withers and hardens before your eyes. You need to leave. To your right, a wall bleeds. Is it actually blood? Sap? The color seems to run away from your eyes - goldredwhiteyellowblackblackblack - covered with an iridescent sheen, an oil slick, pouring out and up and towards in ways that burn your eyes and soul. You need to leave. All around you, the Wonderland you've come to know burns like shadows in sunlight, or sunlight to shadow. The ceiling and walls and everything morphs to the inside of some unfathomably large tree. Roots and branches and gouged out holes, forming paths of the most non-ecludian sort. Some... things out of sight climb up and down in the darkness, looking for purchase, escape, travel. Far too many limbs, or none at all. You need to LEAVE. Not yet. You want to help. You need to help. You grab the nearest non-reclaimer - an elf, a visitor, someone - and they are both far too light and far too heavy. Stiff like wood in your hands. Their skin is gray, ashen, black veins in porcelain skin. Eyes gone solid black, they try to say something, but all that comes out is a spew of thick black tar - leaking from their eyes, ears, nose, vomit, cracks in their joints and once-flesh. The amorphous Black they just expelled pulses, then skitters down between the wood at your feet. You look at your skin. Your veins are too dark. Visible. Present. A weight builds in your heart, The Reclaimers (and Angus) can still move, bolt for what was once a cascade of colors, lights and joy. Now it's a gaping maw, jagged edges like splintered teeth around a hole like a cavity, sap like pus seeping out of the edges. The once-elevator now-branches bring you back to Shadowdale, covered in a charcoal smog that seems to smile at you from every angle. C. THE CAVALRY ARRIVES Lucretia, after receiving Sans' text about the current state of affairs within Wonderland, is faced with a decision that only she could make. Years ago, she came upon this place and lost decades of her life, all in an attempt to stop the mechanations of this horrific landscape. Her biggest failure, a thorn in her pride, she assembled the Bureau of Balance not long after her visit in order to take down places like this. People or things who obtain a power they should not have. She doesn't know why Wonderland is the way that it is, she can only guess that the Grand Relic has corrupted the World Tree down to its core. But more than that, more than the years she put onto her life for a wager of chess, more than the meticulous, maddening obsession she has with destroying every single one of these objects that threaten the world- her Reclaimers are here. Her Reclaimers. Against the judgment of most of her advisers and Moon Base employees, she grits her teeth and holds tight to her staff. Carey, Killian, and Lucretia descend upon the forests of the Cormanthor region. It takes them far, far too long to make it through the wilds. The forest can sense when someone is coming to destroy it, and thus, sends everything it can against them. Enchantment after enchantment gets flung their way, but she knows better. She's seen Wonderland before and she reckons that no one has ever visited this place twice. Arriving in Shadowdale, she looks up to see Yggdrasil in its sad, sorry state. Clasping her staff in place, finally here, she is resplendent in her detestation of this unholy place. A few of you might be there at the base of the tree when Wonderland transforms into its hellscape, and you might see her approaching, purposeful, as if every step is one of reclamation and poise. Angus McDonald looks upon her and tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is that's going on. Lucretia warmly smiles at him. "Hello, Angus. I've heard much about you." "Ma'am?" But her attention is turned to another little boy, terrified otherwise. His face is darkened, sickly colors rooting through his veins and showing up against a pale skin. Niel. Ah, she remembers him, too. Her face gives no sign of anger, of fear, or resentment. "Don't worry, Niel. We'll free you from that monster." She doesn't renege on her promises. Lucretia slams her white oak staff on the ground and in an instant, a flash of brilliant luminescence fills all of Shadowdale, expelling the darkness that lingers around the corners of the sleeping town. She erects a magic dome from the center of her origin, expanding out from her as she concentrates on her magic. Lucretia's gifted in the arcane herself, you see, and a giant Globe of Invulnerability spell now blocks entrance nor exit from this zone. And for the first time in centuries, Shadowdale sees sunlight. Carey and Killian flank her. She needs to concentrate on this spell in order to keep it active, and they're there to stop anyone who thinks about getting in her way. D. NEW RULES OF WONDERLAND It's a zero-sum game here that Adrian is wagering. Lucretia didn't bring Dr. Tank down to Shadowdale for a very specific reason; an expert chess player herself, she always thinks in terms of move by move encounters. She figures that the rules would change quickly once the Reclaimers had figured out what was behind the curtain, so to speak. There's no way that Wonderland would allow healing or restoration of a body within its confines. She aims to cut this place off from the outside world. To quarantine it away from escape and cage it inward like an animal. No, Dr. Tank would be useless here, and if anything... dangerous, to put their chief of medical staff here in the middle of the mission. And thus, no one can come in or out of the area once she's erected the barrier. Returning to base is no longer an option for the remainder of the mission, including any and all facilities provided by its administration: Bender's food, Fantasy Costco, items you may have left behind, etc. Those of you who have opted out of the horror plot for the month will most likely be spending your time in Shadowdale for the next two weeks, providing back up and support to Lucretia. The work you do out here is equally as important as the work that needs to be done on the inside. Whereas the forest was quiet and still before, it seems to have taken on a new life of its own, now that it senses the Source of its life deeply threatened. Killian takes command from here on out. Anyone not willing to go up to Wonderland needs to stay down here and stop the encroaching darkness from attacking. And she means that, literally. As you look around the outskirts of town, the dome extending well beyond the vantage point you can see, there are creatures, made of darkness, dripping a deeply red sap that sparkles in the newfound texture of light Lucretia's spell provides. One bounds forward from the edge of a building, four legs crawling and made of pure shadow, and attempts to make an attack towards the Director. Carey cuts it down as it splits into two and vanquishes into a dark dust. "What the hell are these ugly gods-damned things?!" Some of you might've noticed it before in your rolls, but in the light provided by Lucretia's spell, there's no denying it. Negativity forms a dark cloud straight from Carey's mouth, as her eyes go wide at the sight of it. The monster at her feet, now a cloud of dust, seems to feed on it as it reassembles back into its form. What the actual fuck. Back to top 3. A TASTE OF GOOD SUFFERING E. REEDS GROWING OUT OF MY FINGERTIPS The Wonderland the Reclaimers and Angus find themselves in now looks nothing like the Wonderland they left behind. The feel of it is similar, except that the creeping dread has officially crept. It's here now, fully-formed and breathing down the back of every single neck. What was whispered before is screamed now: Wonderland is here to hurt you. The fun it seeks is not for you, but fuel for something else, something you haven't found yet. Nonetheless, you're here to feed it. And so, you begin to realize, is Yggdrasil. The naturally-minded among you begin to realize it with sickening certainty: the roots, the veins, the stiffness and the ever-present tarlike substance stem from the sickness of the World Tree. Wonderland, and all of you, are within Yggdrasil's rot now — and as much as it tries to reject this magic, the insidious power of the Compact has taken over too far. The tree is dying. Inside of it as you are, you can practically feel it. The entire place is a warren, structured like the tree it's draining the life out of. From the central trunk, the central locations that used to be Squares slide off from the main body in long, twisting branches that turn in nonsensical directions before abruptly coming to a halt. Each Square exists in uncomfortable parody here — or maybe the original was the cruel joke, because the purpose of Wonderland is suffering. At any turn in your path through the channels of Wonderland, you'll be swimming through darkness creeping in on all sides. No light can penetrate past your periphery, with very few exceptions; you are a moving lantern in this blackness, functioning on faith that whatever comes at you, a mystery until the last moment, will be something you can handle. Stumble into Battle Square and find yourself face-to-face with a monster of vicious intelligence and amorphous shape, delighted to cut you to ribbons over a period of hours while telling you every secret shame you've ever harbored. In Event Square, a knot midway up the endless trunk, time goes taffy-sticky as you trip through loops of memory blasted on every wall, loud and confusing and overwhelming, going on for what seems like forever. There's more, of course — more discrete spaces than you could even see in Wonderland. Any manner of horror you can consider can be found here, as vast as Yggdrasil itself. One or two places, though, will be particularly easy to recognize — and difficult to escape. F. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU Sometimes, investigation gives us little tips and tricks for solving the next stage of the puzzle. For example: Michael found a map to the mirror maze, back in the first iteration of Wonderland. But unfortunately, sometimes the setting also cheats. Ghost Square is still here — but maps aren't going to do you any good. Enter this section of Wonderland and the door behind you doesn't exist anymore. It doesn't pop out of existence; it just isn't, like it never was, like maybe you imagined it in the first place. A hallway, apparently manmade, stretches out in front of you, dark and cold. It appears to be approximately 60 feet long. The walls are black. When you reach out to touch them, they are freezing to the touch and too smooth to be natural, not shiny enough to be polished, too hard to be plant matter. You have no idea what they are, but touching them saps the warmth out of you, so you stop. You keep walking, a halo of light around you but stretching no further than a few feet in any direction. You walk for 60 feet. The hallway keeps going. It hasn't gotten longer, but it hasn't gotten shorter, either. It keeps going. It keeps going. You continue until your feet hurt or you get sick of this bullshit, whichever comes first, and then you turn back the way you came. Maybe you think you'll see a door, or maybe you're not thinking very clearly anymore. Back the way you came, there is a staircase. It wasn't there before. You certainly didn't pass it. It spirals down into the depths. It could be a story deep or a hundred. You have no way to know. You turn back towards the direction you originally walked, and there is only a wall. It's the spiral staircase or it's nothing. You go down. As you descend, it gets colder. Colder and darker, and the darkness and cold press against you, creep under your skin and make you shake. The halo of light around you begins to dim the deeper you go. If you go deep enough, it will be hard to tell what's light and what's your imagination. Because really, honestly? The longer you stay in this place, the more you begin to think you're hearing things. Whispers just beyond your ability to decipher. A soft laugh, like that of a child or someone trying to stay quiet. And if you stop, or rest, or feel something negative — anger, frustration, sorrow, despair, it doesn't matter, because a black fog drifts out from between your lips. And in the distance, something roars. Just a little bit closer every time. Every once in a while, as you descend the staircase, you will pass a mirror with a red X taped near the top. Sometimes you'll see yourself in it. Sometimes you'll see something worse. When you get right down to it, what you get out of the world has a lot to do with what you put in — so we hope you're staying positive, or you might see something really nasty. G. THE SONG BEYOND THE SONG The aftermath of MARIA's destruction, the Area That Was Once The Night Show is a blasted husk. More than anywhere else, the walls ooze Yggdrasil's lifeblood from where something... was. Something large used to be chained here. Open gashes and empty sockets line the walls and floor. A large root knotted like a spine shoots through the very center of the room, a support pillar, entwined into the ceiling and floor and Everything of this cavern. Growths like tumors rise from the floor - what was once gambling tables look more like grasping hands. A few curl into themselves, knocked over, shattered to splinters in the wake of what was once there. Maria is gone. She is free. There is a sob. Small. Weak. Mortal. At the base of the pillar, half-absorbed into the plant matter of Yggdrasil is Stylosa. Black roots creep up through her arms, chest, face. Her tears are tinged black, but the eyes are still hers. One arm reaches out. She whispers 'please help, it hurt̷̟͂s̶͕̓ ̵̻͂ĩ̸̺t̸͔͐ ̴͙̍ḧ̷̜́ù̸̘r̶̢̓t̶́͜s̸̫͒ ̸͑ͅî̶̺Ṱ̴̿ ̵̠̃H̷̙͊U̸̻̒R̶̯͛T̸͓͠S̸̢͌`- The world goes static, right then wrong then right again, and the original Wonderland surrounds you. Silent - for a second. An explosion of color and canned applause comes from behind you. What was once a stage opens once more. There is the Henrik some of you were searching for, skin plaster, eyes matte black, a rigor mortis smile across his face. His voice booms out of speakers that aren't there. "Welcome, one and all, as we embark on this, our first night! To the new and improved Night Show, with one hundred percent more audience participation!!! Guaranteed to keep you rooted to your seats, haha!" Confetti falls from nowhere, more false cheers from an invisible audience. He bows, stiff and chipped as a wind-up toy. It gives you a chance to angle your gaze to where there used to be an exit. It is there no longer. Doors appear and disappear in wrong places. Chandeliers swap between designs. The new Show is still trying to acclimate itself. "Now, I know some of you have had a bad time here before, but please romaine calm. We-" And then Da Vinci's Body, appearing from nowhere, the same black eyes and battered smile, smacks him upside the head. A slapstick comedy in all the worst ways. "That one doesn't work! We're in an ash tree!" "No, we're in a cactus!" "Ahahaha! Oh, Henrik, you know I'm a succa for your jokes!" Both them and the invisible audience crack out into raucous laughter, doing matching poses like they're both on the cover of Vogue magazine. They whisper something to each other and 'Da Vinci' runs off stage to prepare. "Tonight, in celebration, we'll be holding our first ever... talent show!!! Our main acts are just boooring now. You know what I mean? Look at this mess-" A hand waves out, and Minato unfolds up from the floor, harp welded into his hands, painted and decorated and held in place with pipes and wire. 'Da Vinci' waves her arms, unveiling the elaborate music box. His hands play against his will, plinking out the sad notes to a certain Velvet Room theme. He gets left alone in tired silence for a bit before a note goes off key. 'Da Vinci' yanks his face into the same smile, freezing it in place. TODAY IS A JOYOUS DAY, we are all so very HAPPY, and the eyes of 'Minato' go black. The room is filled with cheers and rainbows, an excited irish jig played out by their wind-up stage musician. 'Henrik' doesn't wander the room, choosing instead to make sure the background music keeps going. The statues and paintings once lining the walls bend before your eyes - reforming into memories from your home, replays of your failures, but all done up in catchy pop-art style and played for hilarity. Rather than Marias, all newcomers are visited by a black-eyed ghoul wearing a human skin. They hand out drinks and paperwork, what would you like to participate with in our talent show? The winner not only gets a job but- One wish from the Compact. Surely that's way more interesting than trying to get out, right? Back to top 4. OOC In order to keep to our goal of providing the most personalized Wonderland experience for all of you, we're setting a limit of 1 RNG attempt per character this log. Additionally, please be aware that while some mundane rolls will have standard-level DCs, many rolls, including those with the potential to uncover plot information, will be high-risk high-reward and will have a very high DC along with steep penalties for failure. As always, we will let you know of this before we roll, and you have the option to decline any roll at any time. If you would like to gain a bonus of +2 on any given roll, those who have opted in to horror content may make the choice to sacrifice something of body, mind, or spirit. We will determine your sacrifice based on your horror homework. It is up to you whether this sacrifice is for the duration of the mission or a permanent sacrifice. As an additional reminder, there is no healing in Wonderland. To a few of you, this will be even more detrimental than usual. To those of you who went too far with your debts or your choices, who have lost your very Selves to Wonderland. A list: ○ Michael ○ Kaede Akamatsu ○ Minato Arisato ○ Akira Kurusu ○ Guido Mista ○ Ryuji Sakamoto ○ Leonardo da Vinci ○ Willard H. Wright Despite Lucretia's spell, the Light won't effect you guys. Over the course of part 2 you'll find you're slowly falling prey to what hit everyone else in wonderland. Your skin will turn pale, your veins will turn dark, you'll start vomiting viscous Abyss that occasionally comes to life, and eventually your eyes will turn black and you will Petrify. Should you as a player not want to play out the vomiting part, it can be exchanged with breathing out black mist. Whichever's cool with your school guys. The speed/intensity of this change and all of its symptoms is also up to you. There are two exceptions. Da Vinci, while she is still a Roland, will simply start going rotten, seams growing old and fur collapsing away. Constant Mending will mitigate this, but she's on a timer to get her body back now. Willard will find that as the hardening of the glass continues, it will start to lose all color and begin to crack in places. These cracks will leak the same tar infecting the other players. Minato, despite being a Music Box right now, is still in his physical body and is not an exception. On a more general note, we encourage you to make your own mini-horrorscapes in this setting! The entirety of Wonderland is available to dark-side, with the exception of what we've already laid out for Ghost & Wonder Squares. Improvise and make a mess. Just make sure to tag anything warning-worthy. Anything on the OOC post is fair game, and if there's something you'd like to try, please don't hesitate to let us know on the RNG thread. Should you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post linked above. Back to top blurb code by photosynthesis

Comments

RNG

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Reminders for this log:

○ Questions for this log can be directed over to the mission's dossier
○ No more than 1 RNG request per character at this time, please! In the event of multi-character RNGs, whoever posts the request uses up one of their slots; other characters involved do not. As in part 1, we strongly encourage sharing rolls!
○ Plot-relevant rolls are high-risk, high-reward. Proceed with caution.
○ For a +2 on any given roll, those who have opted in to horror content may make the choice to sacrifice something of body, mind, or spirit. We will determine your sacrifice based on your horror homework. It is up to you whether this sacrifice is for the duration of the mission or a permanent sacrifice.

[korekara]

oh god i'm breaking in the RNG thread WOW FEAR

ANYWAY! Since healing is off the table, Honoka is instead going to do her best to use Bardic Inspiration on Niel in the hopes of helping him fight off the Petrification effects! She knows she probably won't be able to fully heal him, but she just?? doesn't want to sit around and do nothing while he's obviously suffering. We might even get some passable poetry out of her, because this is such a serious moment but don't bet on it.

WHAT ANGUS MCDONALD KNOWS

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He's in it with you now. Help him detect, ask him questions, or answer a few of his own.

[dialetheism]

where is my boy

And by that I mean - once Lion's immediate concerns are dealt with (dragging the other Casino Raid-ees to safety, supergluing Will's leg back on, shoving their panic attack back into a mental broom closet, possibly being told to stop bugging Lucretia), they're going to make a beeline for wherever Angus was seen last so that they can check to see if he's okay.

And, y'know, possibly to hear his thoughts on what the hell just happened. Though the first thing they're going to say, upon seeing that he also has one of Those Dice? "Don't roll that!"

lion | ota

[dialetheism]

{no} healing in wonderland. (please specify what option, and yes/no for possible tag ins from will or maya)

[ You all heard the man, right? We need to take good care of ourselves from now on, because there's no fix-it button anymore. And we all need to be in the best possible shape to kick his ass into next week for everything that's happened- okay no too far for now.

About an hour after that whole mess happened, a message is posted to the network. ]

un: million
I won't waste time on a long explanation.
The Manager wasn't lying. Healing doesn't work.
But if you need first aid, come to the pharmacy in Shadowdale. He can't stop us from using non-magical means.

[ {a} True to their word, if you stop by that dinky little pharmacy, Lion can probably be found running around and taking stock of what's available. They've ditched most of their jacket and/or cloak combo for now, scrounged up a pair of gloves, and is stubbornly ignoring the very noticable bandage wrapped around their shoulder. ]

I'll give that horrible nightmare one thing. At least there wasn't time for anyone to loot this place. [ Siiiigh. Let's get to work.

Alternatively, if you're particularly (un)lucky, you might spot them trying to make sense of {b} the worst jigsaw puzzle known to man. There's bits of glass everywhere, and they seem to be carefully trying to assemble it into some... vague shape, frowning all the while.

Next to them is a leg. It is also made of glass. What the fuck. ]

wildcard.

[ Y'all know the drill. Hit me up for ideas over on PLURK or discord, and my opt-in/out is over HERE. Lion, generally, will be sticking to Shadowdale for this part of the event, unless explicitly asked otherwise. ]

respite.

[dialetheism]

[ Not much to see here. Maybe you were fighting a monster, or trying to clear a path through- or into, or out of- the tree again to rescue someone. Maybe you just needed help. Regardless of your circumstances, there's a faint pop from somewhere behind you and then- the pressure eases off, slightly. The air is easier to breathe. Your mind feels that little bit clearer.

Turning will reveal Lion and their Umbrella, faintly backlit by the ambient light of a Sanctuary spell, winded and surprised but oh so proud. ]

Here, I- [ Their voice shakes, but the confidence holds. ] I can help. That should make things a bit better, right?

ryuji | ota

[ryuji]

1. the dating game

[He doesn't know how he wound up here. That's about as terrifying as actually knowing the course of events that unwound, preceding it, but the last thing Ryuji can remember was working for the Ghost Hotel here. Why? Something about arguing with management. Something about finding a decapitated head in a fake haunted house. His gem had glown darker than garnet, and the worst thing about any of this was that... it wasn't unfamiliar.

Losing spaces of time, not having recollection of where he was or what he was doing. He's sitting down in a chair, and his feet can't seem to move. He's gained darkvision since taking up the Ranger's cape, and that's not doing him much at all. There's something in the outline that he can almost make out. A crowd of people, maybe?

He's been here before. He looks down at his arms and they're darkened with an inky substance filling him, and for one, truly fucking horrified moment, he catches his breath and nearly loses it. Loses everything. All of this wasn't real. He's been on the station ever since, and everything that happened in Faerun was a wild fever dream. Once before, he had looked down at his body as it began to decay, and here he is again. Right where he started. Doomed to complete the same cycle over and over again. He died up there, didn't he?Ryuji doesn't want to believe it-- he struggles in place to get out of here, to take the people he loves and just. Get anywhere but here.

And the lights turn on; he's on stage.

A curtain between him and presumably three other chairs.

"Ryuji Sakamoto, you're the next contestant on... THE DATING GAME!"

What?

You're either on the other side of that curtain, or somewhere in the audience. Ryuji has this gut-wrenching reaction that he's supposed to play this right. Compelled to, even. His body perks up without him wanting it to. He's excited! Except, he's not excited at all. The audience cheers loudly.

2. battle theme intensifies (cw: emeto, body horror)

[Making it further away... or further into Wonderland, Ryuji can't really quite tell, eventually he'll find himself on a road. While still within Yggdrasil, he knows that this isn't quite right, but what can he do? He's walking, trying to figure out how to get to the elevator that'll get him out of here, but he has a hunch that with a gem this dark and this much debt, that he's not going to be able to make it out of here without the fight of his life.

Hands in his pockets, he continues down further, eventually stopping at a lamppost. There's a bench here, and as far as he's gone, it's the only thing that he's actually seen in what has to be miles.

A brief look into the light burns against sensitive retinas.

He could've sworn there was someone near him just hours ago. Something about a game show. Something other than this? What happened to them? Everything is so hard to figure out, and Ryuji has a moment where he thinks he felt the same way when he traveled along the Astral Plane for what felt like years. No, that's not quite right.

Or is it?

He takes a seat, resting his weary feet for a moment, and cups his hand under his chin. He just wants to go home. The light flickers, pulsating, and he figures he's about to get round two of whatever this is supposed to be. Except, there's something wet around his lips, and as he brings the back of his palm to his mouth, he wipes away a black sap.

It keeps coming, as he tries to breath inwards and only more of the liquid appears.]

HELP!

SOMEONE?

ANYONE!

3. la torture par l'espérance

[He rubs his eyes.

There are mirrors everywhere, long halls, and then suddenly, a black cat.

A familiar looking black cat, and even though they've never gotten along on the best of terms, seeing a teammate right now, illusion or not, is a welcome feeling.]

M...Mona?

[Seeming to notice him, he continues to lick his paw before scurrying off into the distance.

Some say a black cat crossing your path is bad luck. Ryuji chases anyway, and eventually lands into something hard. A person, your mirror, a world reflected and owned by your own universal truth, maybe. Or maybe his own. Somehow, something tells him that deep within, getting to the center of the maze will cure him. Who knows if that's the case? But hope is all he has right now.]

Shit, sorry- I didn't mean to. Hey, are you like... are you really here or is it just my mind playin' tricks again?

4. etc

[He's pretty cursed right now with how red in debt he is. Someone probably needs to help him find his body or his senses in general, because otherwise he'll be chilling in tropey horror scene after horror scene. If you have an idea to throw my way, let's do it! I'm down for anything.]

[closed prompts]

[ryuji]

[TBA!]

[ribticklers]

A; fallen down (cw: reality warping)
[Wonderland is wearing its face more plainly now, and that would almost be a relief if not for the feeling they've all been swallowed up by that face. Dark swirls of negativity snake out from under Sans's clothes, but it's hard to see in the darkness. Every step is twisted and uncertain, so Sans tries to push through. He vanishes into mist. He doesn't expect to reappear exactly where he was. There's the instinct to try and feel out the path, but he knows it doesn't work that way here. He pauses, tries again.

This time reality won't quite let him go. Reality catches on his bones and stretches out like streamers. His body twists with the force, and Sans's eye flickers blue-yellow-blue as he acts on instinct, trying to snap together quanta of magic and spacetime. It doesn't work, of course. He can't do that here.

He's lucky, this time. The ribbons twisting him in place snap and curl inward and melt away. Sans drops face-first to the ground.]

B; it's raining somewhere else (cw: time loops)
[Time is stretching. Time is stretching and stretching and tearing and skipping and playing like a movie on the rough, knotted bark. Time is looping. Again. Again. Again.

rts showed a massive anomaly in the timespace conti

This is a memory of something that didn't happen. Sans thinks he's walked this path before. Sans can't remember. Golden pillars and broken stained glass windows. Of course he can't remember, that's not how it works. This could be the first time ever, this could be the last time ever. Does it matter? Another second goes by, and the old second is still there, a fresh wound in his memory, but there's theories about that, right? The world could have been created yesterday, but if that creation included memories of a time before, then you'd never know. You just end up right back there, again, again, again, did you think you got out, did you think you got out, did you think you got out

sorry, ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒. This is why I never

ermine the future of th

This is a memory of something that happened. Sans thinks he's walked this path before. Sans can't remember. Golden pillars and shining stained glass windows. Do you trust them? That anomaly? Do you like them? Why? Why do you like anybody anymore? None of this even matters.

Papyrus is alive. He and the human are in Papyrus's room. Sans doesn't know if either of them has any idea what a date is. Papyrus is dead. The human hadn't seemed so bad, the human had been nice to so many other monsters, so why when it was Papyrus, why only then? Papyrus is dead. Everyone else is dead. The human isn't a human. The human isn't anything he thinks he can understand. He's not sure if he has enough feeling left to be afraid.

He will stand alone against the anomaly. He will judge the human, and hope they will be better. He will leave the underground after the human helped to set them free. All at once and all together and all fighting with each other, images looping and screaming, pay attention to me, pay attention to me, give up, give up, give up, I did, why even try?

There are creatures closing in, dark and viscous things, crawling on too many legs along the tree as they chase down the negativity flowing off Sans like a waterfall. He doesn't notice.]


C; Wildcard
[Sans isn't taking well to this, but if you'd like him somewhere, just let me know!]

[ribticklers]

[Reserved for more prompts. Don't reply to this comment, please!]

ota; will match format

[noblegarnet]

[A; cracked crown (mild body horror)]

Ferran can't leave this alone. Although helping Lucretia is... apparently important, he doesn't like the idea of everyone else risking themselves inside what's left of Yggdrasill while he's out here, waiting for something to happen. He can't stay behind—so he goes.

Somewhere along the way, he slips through a fissure, fingers scraping the edges of something sharp as he falls. At first there's only black, but then it becomes a stark contrast slicing through colors so bright they hurt to look at, jewel tones that sparkle in a light that isn't there. He lands on his side with a crack on whatever counts as the ground in this crystalline place, gasping. Nothing should be cracking. He forces himself to his knees, and when he looks at his hands he sees a deep, beautiful red and for a split second thinks blood but no—

He is Garnet. That's all he was meant to be: a tool for some higher power to wield, never a person with his own goals or a future. He was given power, and everything else was taken from him—his home, his family, even his sense of self as he obsessively turned to that new role. But ultimately, it was for nothing. He lost that power too, failed in every goal that might have been expected of him as a Noble. His friends are dead. His revenge is impossible. His world is gone.

He sees his reflection in pyrope hands, and the new scars on the side of his face have eroded to show the gem underneath, faceted and polished. He could never be anything other than this; now that his world is gone, he's just a useless decoration. And with the dark fractures running through his hands and jaw, he can't even manage that adequately. He just has to wait to be thrown away.

Someone else could fall into this nightmare in the same way, or simply find themselves walking into a cave with walls of gemstones and a floor of rough onyx. Maybe they're unlucky enough to feel crystal slowly overtaking them from their core once they step inside, just like the young man who's kneeling and staring into nothing. All the other Reclaimers would have been so much better suited to the mantle of the gemstone he was given...

"What's the point... of any of this?" he mutters, sibilant sounds shattering midway through and echoing off the walls. "What am I doing here?"

--

[B; some kind of harry potter betrayal reference goes here]

Color. There's so much color here, every part of it dense and whole, but unlike the excitement of Wonderland, it leans more towards comfort and contentment. It all fades together, the transitions impossible to make out: A clean school hallway. A refined house. A calm city evening on the river. Ferran almost loses himself in it, but reminds himself what he's here to do—

There's a hand on his shoulder.

—but then there isn't.

Vague faces fade in and out around him as the light dims and color saps out, their voices laughing with disdain, pity, superiority. The deepest of them seems to echo more clearly, and the longer Ferran listens to it, the harder it feels to move. He has to find the others, his allies They didn't trust you, why would they?, his friends They were forced to like you, it was never real, the relic None of this means anything, you'll never make a difference... but he stops moving forward.

Everything was fake. Everything was a lie. Why would it be any different here? They don't have much choice but to work together, and they hardly know anything about each other. He already knows that thinking you know someone, trusting them enough to confide in them—that doesn't mean anything. At any time someone could take away everything that means something to him, and he would never see it coming. The deep voice echoes again:

They're just waiting for the right chance. You're so easy to use, after all.

He's no longer made of red stone, but black cracks snake up his face as he succumbs to paranoia. It's easy in this place for anyone to feel the same, familiar people whispering gleefully about every time they've hurt you, every time you were abandoned when there was supposed to be trust and support. Eyes wide, Ferran pulls a dagger on whoever has approached. There's an almost invisible but iridescent chain wrapped around his wrist, extending into some spot above them that's impossible to see.

"Get away from me."

[Wildcard]

[Ferran will be remaining in Shadowdale for several days at first, working to fight off monsters and help provide resources, before heading in to presumably help with Reclaiming efforts. If you want anything else with him, let me know here or at lumieresdedragon and we can figure something out!]

b

[feytality]

[ it's maya!!!! and the knife doesn't bother her too much. it's not the first or the last time she's been threatened by a fellow reclaimer -- and it's really easy to tell something's off with ferran here. it isn't personal. this place is chipping away at him like it's chipping away at all of them. ]

[ she braces herself. he needs help. and she's not going to leave him here. ]

Hey, it's just me! Maya.

[ if that's of any comfort. or in case he's seeing something in her that isn't there -- it wouldn't be the first time. ]

And I want to help. It looks like you're stuck.

[ both physically, and stuck with some kind of nightmare. ]

Opted out; will match format

[unrecovered]

1. When true colors will bleed

[He should be going inside the tree. He should be going with the bulk of the Reclaimers, facing down Wonderland in its horrifying truest form, hunting down Adrian Morgenstern and the Compact and dragging them both to the surface. It's another Recovery mission, just...in a different dimension. With mind-searing, reality warping magic.]

[He's not Recovery One anymore. And he...can't handle magic. Not this level of sheer malice, and not at this scale. Not like this.]

[He's a Reclaimer now. He's supposed to be down there in the thick of it, finding the Relic. Instead, he's topside, giving in to fear and failing at the most basic tenet of his goddamn job.]

[From the outside, it may look like he's trying to catch a breather in the quiet moments between monster attacks. Get a little closer, however, and it's impossible to miss the black vapor escaping from the seams of his armor.]

2. I hope to never fall

[Wash knows combat. Two wars, countless missions, and most recently a maxed out Fighter path means he damn well knows what he's doing in the heat of battle, especially against alien horrors that want nothing more than tear you open and spatter your life across the floor.]

[Yeah. He's got this.]

[Maybe you've been (i) fighting back to back with him in the thick of battle, watching his back in the same way he watches yours, moving in near perfect unison, weapons brought to bear. There are monsters everywhere, but he's not worried. He can't be - worry is negative, and negativity only makes them stronger.]

[Or maybe you're (ii) cornered - you were making a supply run, or you pursued your target too deep and got caught out on your own with monsters hot on your tail-]

[When a twenty-pound ball of snarling fury slams into the first monster, bearing it into the ground with sheer inertia alone before speeding off into the shadows, preparing for her next attack. Athena is the opening salvo; Wash isn't far behind, sprinting in to finish what his familiar started. The monster falls, and he spares a moment to look at you.]

Are you okay?

[Either help him fight or run; either way, he'll cover you.]

3. No disaster can touch us anymore

[It's not all combat - this is a long mission and needs a base of operations. To that end, Wash can be found shoring up nearby buildings to make them more defensible against monsters - wanna help him board up windows and build barricades out of furniture?]

[He's also heading up supply runs, getting groups together to search for food, medical supplies, and anything else they might need. It's going to be a long haul, and you can lend a hand to make sure they get through it, right?]

[Or you might see him in one of the fortified buildings, providing medical attention to his fellow Reclaimers and whoever else is up top. He's not a medic by any means, but first aid is better than no aid. Plus, Athena has a habit of hopping into people's laps and purring for all she's worth, and that's definitely medicinal.]

4. It's all a game

[Wildcard! Hit me up at kiaxet if you want to discuss other ideas.]

[Also, music! Because ambiance is a Thing.]

[unrecovered]

[This space reserved for further prompts!]

Roxas

[seasaltkeys]

1. I Woke Up with the Power Out [cw: unreality stuff? body horror]

[There is an instinct telling Roxas to run.

And Roxas wants to obey it but for the moment he can't. For the moment he is transfixed by the way the world seems to melt around them all, how reality reshapes itself away from the amusement park and into likeness of the tree. The idea that they were somewhere that wasn't real, regardless of how real the things that happened to them were, resonates with him in a way he does not like, hitting a little too close to home how he was trapped in a digital simulation.

But if nothing else, it's what motivates him to get moving. And he does. He runs, as fast as he can for the exit and he's almost there when there's a glint of silver that serves as a second reminder. He's a Reclaimer. He's on a mission. He can't just save himself.

He's not far from the exit, calling out for any other Reclaimers, Wonderland Visitors, Angus even. He reaches out, grabbing the hand of an elf and recoiling almost immediately. Because the madness that has been lingering around him finally sets in, as the ashen skin and black veins of the affected visitors morphs in to the stretchy wiggly limbs of a Dusk. Because, is this how it happens?

Roxas jumps back, the keyblade summoned to his hand as he swings wildly.]

I won't become a Dusk! I will not become a Dusk!

2. Growing Up in Some Strange Storm, Nobody's Cold, Nobody's Warm

[Having escaped whatever is that Wonderland has become, Roxas is obviously shaken. He doesn't jump into the fray right away, instead taking a moment to himself to try to breathe. It's hard though, as he can't erase what he's seen. While it's lessened as he's calmed down a bit, there's still black vapour pouring off of him.

Eventually he finds himself near where the Director is casting her spell. He keeps his distance, not wanting to distract her, or Killian or Carey. But he's not too far away, wanting to be near the light. Wanting to feel safe even if he is meant to be of the Darkness.]

3. Shadows jumping all over my walls, some of them big some of them small

[It always comes back to the familiar in the end.

There's one thing that Roxas knows he can do, and do well, and that is fight monsters. He has his keyblade out in one hand, and his curved pirate sword in the other, and he is fighting. It's just really tough when you're the one creating them as quickly as they're knocked down. But he's doing his best, combining all the skills that he has at his disposal.

He's not sure when he made the decision, but he knows he has to do this. At the very least, he has to protect the Director as she focuses on her spell, and do what he can here while everyone else is in Wonderland. He's a Reclaimer after all. And everything has lead to this.

He charges into another crowd of monsters, aura of courage blazing, and for a brief moment, if you squint, you might see the outline of another boy, one with similarly spikey hair, before it is just Roxas again.

Or you might just see the keyblade flying past your head in a Strike Raid.]

Head's up!

Take it from your heart, put it in your hand

[seasaltkeys]

[Outside of the bookstore, Roxas holds up A Trip to Wonderland to the assembled team.]

We're looking for a book like this, or at least something with similar illustrations. That's what Angus said to look for, and I trust him.

This is the bookstore where we found it, so there might be more.

Also, sorry about the mess. I might have put stuff into piles.

Hayner || Opted IN

[hijumpkick]

B - The value of paper means nothing now, when everything around you is crumbling down [CW: unreality stuffs]

[All at once, the illusion fades, and Wonderland gives way to the stuff of nightmares.]

[What was once a brilliant and mesmerizing place is now quite literally rotting from the inside out, and Hayner is horrified. He had drawn Beacon once the creepy voice had faded, but even with the magic sword, he feels his nerve leave him. Just like back in Lyrabar with the possessed townsfolk, he is gripped by the dawning realization that he is in for a battle that might be too much for him.]

[He tries to keep his nerve. He sees people fleeing, or stunned, and reaches out to grab someone to pull them along.]

H-Hey! We have to get outta—!!

[His words give way to a startled yell as the elf he’d grabbed practically disintegrates before him. He stands transfixed, gaze flicking between the black, ichor-coloured mess before him and the pulsing black of his own veins.]

[He needs to get out of here. But he might need someone to shake him out of his shock.]

E – Stay right where you are, while death waits outside your door

[He’s trapped inside.]

[That’s Hayner’s first thought once he sees the barrier go up. There’s really no turning back, and he has to physically swallow down his fear when he realizes this. This is for real, and whatever injuries he might sustain aren’t going to be magically healed up this time. He might not have been with the Bureau long, but this isn’t his first mission. He knows that he’s not alone, and knows that as a Reclaimer, they have to fix this. They have to get that Relic, and get out of here…]

[…but he’s still just a kid. He didn’t even have superpowers before getting here. And now, trapped inside this rotting hellscape, he feels that much more keenly than he ever had before.]

[He ends up in Battle Square, and finds himself face to face with an abomination of a creature, something barely human-shaped with too many mouths and far, far too many eyes. It lunges at him like a wolf on a rabbit, and all Hayner can do is defend, scrambling backwards while wildly swinging his sword, aiming at wherever might be a weak spot for this thing.]

G-Get back! Get back!

F - While finding shelter for the end, they begin reflecting on everything [CW: unreality stuffs]

[Somehow, the darkness and cold of this hallway is worse than the chaos and mayhem outside. Hayner is already freaked out enough as it is, and the cold and randomly appearing staircases and walls aren’t helping. Arms wrapped around his middle, he descends the staircases. There’s nowhere else for him to go.]

[The soft voices have him turning his head this way and that. The faint roar that keeps sounding randomly makes him jump each and every time. Occasionally, he passes a mirror, and he can’t help but glance in it. Sometimes it’s his own reflection he sees. Sometimes it’s the faces of people from Twilight Town, but their eyes are black voids, their faces distraught. And then he sees an image of Pence and Olette, their eyes blank and faces warped with pain. He hears their voices, full of venom and accusation.]

“Why did YOU get to live, Hayner?”
“You ABANDONED us..!”
“Always trying to play hero…”
“Sora could have saved us. Roxas WOULD have saved us!”
“We hate you, Hayner!”

[When he backs away in horror, the figures in the mirror begin to crack and crumble, leeching ichor like the ‘guests’ out in Wonderland. Hayner tears his gaze from the mirror, grabbing his head and hunching over. He barely notices the black fog puffing from his lips with each breath.]

Stop it! T-That's not..! I-I just wanna get outta here!

Wildcard

[[OoC: If you got any other ideas for a thread, hit me up with a PM or on Plurk (pocketnoivern)!]]

B oh boy here we go

[unrecovered]

[Wash has seen this before.]

[Not this exact scenario - a gilded exterior dropping away to reveal the rotted bowels of hell itself is definitely a new one - but the reactions...]

[He's lived through war. He's seen the expressions of soldiers fresh out of basic and facing down their first Covenant bombing; of seeing someone alive one moment and in far too many pieces the next; of feeling the needler shards in your gut and not wanting to contemplate what happens next. It's a gut-churning, dead-eyed panic, a feedback loop in the brain that leads to a swift death in a combat situation-]

[It's the expression Hayner is wearing right now.]

[Like hell is Wash letting anything happen to him.]

[He's already heading in the direction of the exit at a run; it takes little effort to change course and aim low, wrapping an arm around Hayner's ribs as he passes. If it involves yanking Hayner straight off his feet and half-dragging him to the exit, that's fine - so long as he gets out of there.]

We're leaving!

[snyaiper]

[Local Cat Loses It]
[Wonderland had already started to chip away at Ogata's questionable mental state, and the sudden collapse of reality as they knew it was all he needed for his stability to come crumbling down. In a way, the horrible state of Yggdrasil is somewhat comforting. What use is there in faking something this horrible?

But who can really say, at this point? Wonderland had felt so real, even as he kept seeing people who should be dead within it. Even now, they still won't leave him alone. As he scrambles about the rotting tree in a daze, one unwelcome presence becomes constant. He can't sleep. He has to hole up somewhere. Escape, not from this place, but from everything else. He holes up in a crevice within the knotted wood in a spot that maybe used to be one of the game booths. Trying to squirrel away from Yuusaku, but he followed him no matter how improbable.

If you happen to wander too close, unknowingly, you'll get a warning shot for your trouble. No words said, but if you look in the direction the shot came, you might catch a glimpse of a wild eyed Ogata leveling his rifle at you, tucked away amongst the branches.]

[I'm rating this maze 0/5 stars on Yelp]
[The mirror maze wasn't great before. Now it's absolutely abysmal,especially since it's apparently lost most of its mirrors. He'd wondered if the mirrors would show him anything this time, but instead it's just a whole lot of darkness.

He'd gotten lost, so in some ways the staircase appearing is a welcome change of pace. The loss of any other options, less so. And the fact that another person seems to have been boxed in along with him, even less ideal.

When Ogata turns to look, the faint light reflects brightly off his eyes, startlingly reminiscent of a cat's in the darkness. That's weird, huh.]

Did you hear that?
[Some faint, distant, horrible sound. Definitely coming from down the stairs.]

[Wildcard]
[Ogata will be found, after the first day or so, traipsing around the tree, looking dead tired and unenthusiastic. His actions don't seem to have much purpose, but every now and then you might catch him speaking to the air as if there was another person standing next to him.

If you have anything else in mind, feel free to hit me up!!]

1

[mycrosstobear]

[Wolfwood jumps, reaching over his shoulder for a weapon that isn't there. As useless as the gesture is, he's slow to lower his hand as he looks around for the source of his shot.

Is that...another Reclaimer? In a sniper's position?]

What was that for?

Aziraphale | OTA

[eastofeden]

the illusion crumbles

[ He's not quick enough to make it out before Wonderland is cut off from the rest of the world. Honestly, he doesn't really try. He's too busy helping everyone else, trying to save everyone he can before the vines take over and it's too late.

He sees you. He reaches out, offering a hand up, a steadying grip. Trying to get you to the exit before it closes. ]

Hurry, my dear, I'll be right along!

trapped in wonderland

[ Aziraphale is an angel, a being of pure light and faith and love. The creeping darkness of Wonderland is the last place someone like him belongs - and yet, perhaps he's one of those best suited for his horrors, practically glowing with his own light as he moves through twisting corridors, never faltering, never doubting that his next step will land true.

Gone is the lighthearted sense of exploration and joy as he'd spent too many WonderBux and indulged in romantic tram rides. He knows danger when he sees it, and his face is set in grim - and yet optimistic - determination. No matter what horror your character may encounter, Aziraphale is there to save them from it.

Even Ghost Square isn't so bad, at first. Aziraphale is a positive person, by nature and by (divine) design, and it takes a long while before he gets discouraged. It happens, though. He's not, after all, particularly good at being an angel. He gets tired - more so now than he ever had before - and hungry, and then he's lost and the stairs go on and on and there's something, someone just past the range of his hearing. He grumbles in frustration and unease and black mist drifts out from his lips. Hm. That's probably bad. ]

Who's there? Show yourself!

night show

[ Unfortunately, as you know, Aziraphale. Somehow he ends up at the Night Show. Somehow he's not quite able to find a path of escape. Somehow he's trapped by a ghoul with eyes that were never human, and he never was terribly good at turning down anyone soliciting for anything. They're just trying to make a living, after all, or collect a few signatures, the dears, out there facing rejection after rejection, for charity -

He frowns, doubtfully. ]

Well...I do know a bit of magic, as it happens...

wildcard

[ Got a different idea? Go for it, or ask for a prompt! ]

For Crowley

[eastofeden]

[ Six thousand years makes for a lot of memories. If the loop of Life's Greatest Hits seems to go on ages for the humans, for Aziraphale, it truly feels like...well...you know.

Most of it he doesn't remember, at least not consciously; it's simply too much to keep track of in even an angelic head, though the context is easy enough to remember as he gets glimpses of people and places he hasn't seen in literal centuries or more.

Well. For the most part.

There's just one thing he really can't explain. One person, rather, most often a man, with red hair and dark clothes and yellow, serpentine eyes. He pops up again and again, over a timespan impossible for any human to reach, and Aziraphale...knows him. Or so it seems, from the memories. But he can't remember him now, even when the scenes he appears in are crystal clear in his mind other than that fuzzy shape where this...counterpart? Companion?...apparently was.

He watches, feeling more and more lost and confused, and finally tries out the name that had once been so familiar on his lips. ]

Crowley?

[korekara]

shadowdale.

[ Honoka thinks at first that maybe she'll head into Wonderland with everyone else. In fact, she's positive of it. How bad could things be? Well, she's not quite that dumb or optimistic. She knows they're pretty awful. But she tells herself that if she sticks it out and does her best, then everything will work out just fine, probably. It has so far!

That's what she starts off thinking -- but then, she remembers what Maki had said to her, back on the train. Being carefree and optimistic all the time isn't exactly a cure-all. And it hasn't really helped so far. And besides... whatever's down there, Honoka got a good enough look at it while they were all making a break for Shadowdale to know that it scares the crap at her, and if she's all knock-kneed, then she probably won't be much help down there in the depths.

So she sticks to Shadowdale instead. She can't heal up here and sure, her poetry isn't great, but there are things she knows for sure that she can do up here. So she's just going to do her best at those, instead.

When she's not doing her best to aggressively Bardic Inspire the Director and Niel (when all you've got is a hammer...) you might end up running into her while she flits around Shadowdale, looking for anyone who needs a hand. She looks worried and a bit strung out, but as soon as she realizes someone's looking at her, she immediately forces a big smile. ]

Uh...! Hey! It's getting pretty crazy down here, huh? Are you doing okay? If you need a hand with anything, let me know!

[ She really starts to shine once the shadow creatures make themselves known, though. She's certainly not as graceful as some of the others and she ends up getting herself into a scrape more than once or twice, but considering this is Honoka, of all people, swinging around a sword, she's doing surprisingly well. ... Well, she could still do with a hand, if you're so inclined to lend one. ]

wildcard.

[ feel free to hit me up on discord or on superorbital if there's anything else you'd like to do with Honoka for this log! ]

oh hey it's the one genki Wash hasn't managed to adopt yet

[unrecovered]

[Wash is currently using what little downtime there is between monster attacks to try to construct fortifications. They're not much, but any obstacle between the Director and a shadow monster is going to help, and it's better than sitting around waiting for the next attack. He looks up as Honoka walks by, and...yeah, she doesn't look good. Admittedly, nobody within proximity of Wonderland looks good, but still.]

[What worries him more is the smile once she realizes he's looking. He doesn't like seeing his coping mechanisms in kids - it's always a flag that something is really, really wrong.]

[He pauses for a moment, then nods.]

Yeah, I could use your help. I need to test the sightlines on these - can you go stand over there for a minute?

[He gestures towards an abandoned cafe with outdoor seating. It's all a baldfaced lie, but if he can get her to relax for a minute or two, it'll be worth it.]

sayori ♥ ota

[hxppythxughts]

♥ 1 - shadowdale! ♥ (OTA; no horror)

[While Sayori has every intention of doing what she can to take down Wonderland from the inside, she can't spend the entire time in the boughs of that rotting tree. And maybe others can, but they certainly shouldn't.

She sets up near the areas that other Reclaimers have established as bases. Close enough to consolidate, but not right next to the chaos of the first aid stations, for an important reason. She has...borrowed a few mattresses and bedclothes from one of the houses in Shadowdale, which have been cleaned with Prestidigitation, and she's set up a handwritten sign on the door to this room:

Take a break with Sayori!

♥ Comforting sights, sounds, and smells
♥ Inspiring poetry
♥ Snacks
♥ Naps (w/ magic if you need it)

She's sitting on a pillow between the two mattresses, smiling at whoever enters. There are deep, dark circles beneath her eyes that show she hasn't been immune to the strain of Wonderland, but her efforts here are genuine. She explains:] Hi! I figured that since, um...negative feelings make those...things... It's best if we try to keep morale up where we can. So you can rest here. Let me know what I can help with, okay?


♥ 2 - ghost square! ♥ (OTA)

A - [Have you been in this architectural nightmare long enough to start hearing things yet? Maybe, maybe not. No, wait, you have--because you can hear something now. Something soft, lilting, with a sweet cadence reminiscent of music...

It's getting closer. Close enough to make out words--and with them, the inspiring magic of a familiar Bard's poetry.]

When a light drizzle turns to storm,
We stop and take the time to mourn.
And if at the end of the day the storm still rages,
Our only choice is to be courageous.

[And then, Sayori turns the corner (was there always a corner there to turn?) and--is it possible that her light glows brighter upon finding another face in the impossible maze? It certainly seems like it, or maybe it's just the brightness of her smile.] Ahaha~ I thought I heard someone else! This is way worse than when it was a bunch of mirrors, huh?

[How is she smiling at a time like this?]

B (CW: unreality, emetophobia, probable DDLC spoilers) - [Maybe it's because she learned her lesson, sitting in front of a mirror bearing a red X.

She sees herself in the mirror. She sees herself in the mirror. She sees herself sees herself sees herself---

Sayori, watching Sayori holding a controller, staring through a Roland's eyes at a Sayori who's holding a controller who's---

On and on and on, a recursive loop that makes the mirror seem to stretch infinitely into the screen that the Sayori in the mirror watches, occasionally degrading into illegible pixelized glitches to the slow beating of a heart.

Her gaze as she sits before the mirror is hollow. When she speaks, apparently to no one in particular, smoky tendrils of shadow leave her mouth. She sounds very much like she's trying not to think at all.] I wonder if any of this is real.


♥ 3 - monty hall! ♥ (OTA)

[In this branch of Yggdrasil, there are three doors, numbered appropriately with 1 through 3. They glow in bright primary colors, a stark contrast to the dark, shining decay of their surroundings.

A voice, charismatic, echoing: Pick a door.

Sayori looks around with confusion.] Huh?

[It repeats: Pick a door.]

No way, this place is way too creepy, I'm-- [And she lifts her foot to step back, but she can't. Sayori and her companion are rooted to the spot in front of these three doors.

Pick a door. Behind one of them is your prize, the exit. Behind the other two--well. You don't want to find out what's behind those.

With alarm, Sayori turns to look at her companion. And then, between them and the doors, contemplation entering her worried expression. Just as she looks like she's about to protest again:

P̷̡̝̺̫̑́̒Ȉ̷̤̞̠̾̃͑̀͠C̴͙̈́̏͑̃̄K̴͚̝̫͔͂͜ ̸̭͉̑̋͛͌͗Ä̸̠̉ ̸̡̛̯̙̦̪̞̓̒́͝͝D̶̳̙̻̍̃̅̋Ó̸̱͆Ǒ̶̞Ŕ̴͇͇.̴̡͙̤̯̅̑

She bites her lower lip.] Which-- which one should we pick?


♥ 4 - wildcard! ♥ (OTA)

[hmu on discord or at ceesawaseesaw if you've got any other ideas for sayori and friends!!!]

[locked prompts]

[hxppythxughts]

[for later prompts; please do not respond!]

[feytality]

I: Shadowdale & Wonderland ☀ Don't you get it? You can't cry yet;

[ whether you're in shadowdale or wonderland, shit's going down. either shadow creatures are attacking you, or you've wandered into the battle square, or you're wandering through walls putting your horrible memories on blast for wonderland to see, or any other number of horrors. ]

[ but no matter where you are, you start to falter, black mist escaping from your mouth. or worse. you may feel the pressures of wonderland bearing down on you. ]

[ but you're not alone in this darkness. something bright appears from your eyes --- and is it just you, or is the mist surrounding you evaporating just a little? ]

Hey, this is no time to be moping around! Get off your butt!

[ it's less than tactful, but if you look up, maya's hand is outstretched, and her smile is warm and bright, a beacon in and of itself. so warm and bright, in fact, that you might feel wonderland's black hold on you receding, even just a little. ]

Come on. Let's get moving. I'll tell you something really good.

[ genkis gotta genki. alternatively: ]

I - b: [ it seems like she'll pop up just about anywhere, trying to help when people are in need of help. overwhelmed, unconscious, injured, having trouble getting up on your own? there's a black wolf, scruffy and scrawny, but surrounded by a bright halo of light, seizing your clothing in its jaws and dragging you to safety. it's... got grit, if nothing else. ]

I - c: [ hungry and frustrated in the mirror maze, or just from wandering around shadowdale or wonderland? she's there and offering you one of those goodberries. just one, though, she's starting to really run low. who knew throwing goodberries at everything wouldn't magically fix problems? oh well. at least they're useful here. ]

It probably won't give any healing, but.... you can't exactly face all your worst nightmares on an empty stomach. And good food heals your soul.

[ citation needed. ]

I - d: [ attacked by the amorphous figure in the battle square, or just surrounded by shadow monsters and getting worn down? there's an exaggerated whistle, and there's fuckin maya, standing on a branch dramatically. like an idiot. ]

Hey, you! Yeah, you, shadow jerk! Pick on someone your own shade! Get it?! 'Cause you're a shadow!

[ maya points just as dramatically at whatever's antagonizing you -- using multiple points and fingers if necessary, and then disappears from the branch and appears on the ground. whatever creature or creatures were surrounding you just got a new target, and she beckons them on with one of those 'come at me bro' poses. followed by fingerguns. this is so embarrassing, but maybe her idiocy will distract you from the pain and negativity, even just for a second. ]

[ while this is happening, a phoenix appears in your direct vision, tilting its head at you and cawing softly. follow nick junior!!! he'll lead you to safety. ]

I - e: [ make up whatever circumstance for maya to swoop down into and attack with positivity. go wild. ]

II. Battle Square ☀ The stupid shounen prompt;

[ with maya running around wonderland this whole time, it's only a matter of time before she ends up in the battle square herself, facing off against.... well, does anyone even know what it even is? but it sure likes to morph into your worst nightmare and spew your darkest and most shameful secrets while attacking you mercilessly. and that's exactly what it's doing. first, it takes the form of a little girl ]

Mystic Maya.... I lost my mother because of you. Our village.... it needs a strong leader, one with spiritual power. You know that isn't you. You're too weak.

[ all the while it's wildly slicing at her, missing every time because she just dodges, as if something else is instructing her where to hit and how to dodge. maya's eyes flash, but her light doesn't dim. she doesn't miss a beat. it changes again, now taking on the form of a spiky-haired man in a blue suit. the attacks, too, change. it points its pointer finger at maya, firing blasts of pure darkness. it even slams its hands on stumps for dramatic effect. ]

You don't know anything about law, you can't channel Mia.... yeah, you're pretty much useless. But you know what the most messed up part is? You're standing here, alive, and I'm not. I just have one thing to say to that... OBJECTION!

[ a huge beam of darkness erupts from its pointer finger, one that would have incinerated maya whole if she didn't disappear and reappear again, a smile on her face. a blast of magical energy expels from her hands, accompanied by a loud "TAKE THAT". it hits dead on. ]

That trick isn't going to work on me anymore, you know.

[ it changes again, now a woman in a kimono. this time, its tactics change. its arms stretch and stretch out towards maya in some semblance of a mother's hug -- seizing her and pulling in her tight, holding her in a way that's almost comforting. the worst part? maya lets this happen. the creature's definitely hit upon something, here. ]

[ the words are anything but comforting, even as it caresses her the way a loving parent might. ]

My, my.... It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the rotten tree..... it is your fault he's dead, Mystic Maya. It was all due to your weakness. A miserable, pathetic excuse for a medium like you is not suited to be Master..... but worry not, I will love you all the same. The way your own mother did not.

[ despite its proclamation of love (???) and the gentle, motherly caress, you, the observer of this nonsense, see that knives form where its hands should be, sharp and deadly and pointed at maya's back while it's holding her. you might try to call out to her, to warn her, or even try to intervene, but as the knives slice through her body like she's made of paper, she-- ]

[ wait, she actually isn't there at all? she disappeared again. now she's several feet away, pointing her sa(maya)rai spear at the creature and firing several stunning blasts. still no mist. seems like she shook it off. ] You really like cheap shots, huh? Here's some of mine!

[ the creature almost seems frustrated. it starts mimicking maya's actions to the best of its ability -- extending itself to try to catch her as she misty steps, increasing its speed to try to keep up with her -- even shoving you aside if you're trying to help out. but you can't hold its attention for too long, and its form barely stays solid long enough for you to get a glimpse of a menacing-looking man. ]

[ then, it pauses, as if getting an idea. you better get out of the way, quick, because it's growing bigger and bigger and, well, uh..... guess who's back! It's legion. f you don't know it: it's a horrific monster made entirely out of writhing souls, fma style. and that gets maya to freeze in spot. big mistake! it reaches out an arm full of souls, wrapping itself around her once more, seizing her by the throat, covering her eyes so that she can't teleport, and pulling her in close. it almost seems to be smiling. hundreds of voices speak at once: ]

It's all your fault that they're dead, you're completely worthless, you can't save even a single person! And you know it, don't you? You always have.

[ a large cloud of black mist finally escapes her mouth in a choked gasp as the creature constricts around her throat and face, and it looks like, at long last, it got her. wonderland got her. but then she sees something -- she finally notices that you're here, too. your light is shining. she sees it for a split second, eyes glassy and wide in horror, before the creature completely engulfs her and she's lost to the darkness forever. ]

[ is she? ]

[ there's complete silence for a few seconds as you ponder her fate, and then --- the creature starts to shrink, possibly ready to move onto bigger and better things (you!) now. but... it keeps shrinking. and it's making a noise sounds like a scream. ]

[ and then it explodes, bits of darkness flying everywhere, past you, on you -- ew. but there stands maya, bruised and battered, bleeding from a superficial cut on her cheek, but.... smiling? mist-free. she hops over to your side. ]

Answer me honestly.... did I look cool just now? [ why is she like this. ] Well, nevermind, let's move on before it comes back for round two.

[ too bad round two is already happening!! it's reforming, but now it's noticed you, senpai, so get ready for cheap shots 2: electric boogaloo. at least you've got your personal support maya. ]

III: Wonderland ☀ Memooriiiies like the corners of my mind;

[ it's hard not to constantly see bad memories wherever you go. namely, because they're being blasted everywhere. the night show? bad clip show. the hall of mirrors? you're seeing nasty things in the reflections. just anywhere in wonderland? they're there. yours, maya's, everyone's. as you're walking alongside or even in her general vicinity, one particularly nasty one plays out. it could be yours, or hers, or anyone's. regardless, maya puts her hand on the wall, concentrating hard. ]

Hey! Change the memory channel, let's get something a little less depressing in here!

[ and because the evil memshare is not a tv, it does not in fact change the channel. the memory playing just gets louder and more intrusive. maya sighs in a dramatic fashion. this stupid memory thinks it's going to be louder than her? think again. ]

ANYWAY, [ this is probably going to backfire soon when she alerts all shadows and other creatures to their general presence, but here she goes, but boy is she loud. it's almost impressive. ] IF WE CAN'T CHANGE THE CHANNEL...... LET'S MAKE OUR OWN MEMORY PARTY. GOT ANY GREAT MEMORIES YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT? IF NOT, I CAN START.

[ high volume not necessary. she's a hard act to follow. if you seem particularly upset or rattled by this, she puts a hand on your arm. it's warm. a lot warmer than anything else in this cold, dark, dying place. ]

IV: Wonderland?? ☁ Horrorscapers;

[ this place is full of horrors and personal tortures. no matter where you go, there's one. so what's one more? ]

[ the more you walk, the darker it becomes. you're alone. you always were. the tree is already massive, but as you walk, it seems to grow more. or, no, are you shrinking? it sure feels that way. with every step you take, you feel more insignificant, helpless, even more alone, overwhelmed. you're in over your head. you always were. ]

[ you're in in the hall of mirrors, or some kind of approximation. they look massive. or you're just tiny. one of the two. ]

[ a chill goes down your spine. it should come as no surprise that things display themselves on mirrors -- playing like a bad clip show. does it ever end? faces, voices, your own face, it's all reflected, distorted. a voice calls out to you, but you can't hear it. you can't see the light. ]

[ you can't see anything anymore. you're completely engulfed by darkness. ]

[ or not. suddenly, the lights come on, so bright they're blinding. your eyes tell you that you're not in wonderland anymore. then, everything looks frayed, tattered, like you're in a beat up memory. your memory. ]

[ or is it? the places and people aren't familiar to you at-- no, they are, they're figures from your past. it dawns on you like an epiphany. it's your memory! you're trapped in it. yours. ]

[ OOC: So, for Maya's horrorscape, your character will be experiencing traumatic events in her life as if it happened to them. It'll be figures from their past in place of figures from Maya's past, so supplement as needed. This will be a lot of mind fuckery and could involve psychological horror, murder, corpses, hive minds, abuse, kidnapping, guilt, etc! If you have any particular memory or character you want (ie: murder accusation, kidnapping, evil guardians who want to kill u, phoenix, balance-specific stuff), or want to avoid anything, please note it so I craft you something. ]

Wildcard;

[ go crazy. shadowdale or wonderland is fair game! ]

+2 Very Important Prompts

[feytality]

Shadowdale ☀ Sticks leggy out;

[ at some point or another, maya returns to shadowdale again! she's starting to look pretty beat up. she's walking pretty slowly and frankly, a little strangely. but she's in one piece! and her leg's so clear you can see right through it! ]

[ wait, what? ]

[ well, something's sure up with that left leg. in that it's not really a leg anymore. it's made of pure glass. and it's a little cracked. that's... not great. it doesn't look fun. maya herself doesn't look bothered but rather, preoccupied. she seems to be looking for something, and she scratches her head and tilts it in your direction. ]

Heyyyy, have you seen any styrofoam or bubble wrap around here? Or like a glass cutter or something?

[ hm. ]

Anywhere ☀ Animal therapy (because we all need it at this point);

[ hey, there's a wolf here! it's got a glass leg, which might tip you off, and is looking pretty scuffed up. but it's soft and fluffy and approaching you slowly. a registered service animal!!! because, let's be real. at this point, you probably need one. ]

[ if you look particularly sad, it puts a paw on your arm or puts its head on your lap and looks up at you in that cute way dogs do. pour out your feelings to this canine friend, dispense therapeutic pets, or just make use of its fluffiness to put yourself at ease. it's here to help. ]

Michael | OTA

[eudaimonikos]

i. i know a game we all like to play

[Michael makes a quick stop in Shadowdale, right after everything goes to hell, but he doesn't stay long. His duties all lie in Yggdrasil. 

The tree is halfway reminiscent of home. The halls of the Bad Place have always been twisting and labyrinthine; you could never navigate them if you were a human. But there, everything's stayed the same for millions of years. He's learned all the paths. Here, every time he thinks he's starting to learn his way around, something seems to shift. He longed for change once, and now it's just disorienting.

It's not great for getting where he needs to go, but it's okay for running into others. Should he stumble across any Reclaimers looking less than their best, he'll hurry over - or, at least, he'll go as fast as he can. His movements seem a little slower and stiffer than usual. 

But that's probably no cause for concern, right? He's already an old man. And he looks perfectly normal, the light cast around him holding steady.]

Hey - are you hurt at all? I've got some stuff from the pharmacy. None of it's magic, so it should all still work.

ii. inside la casa, the house

[Michael just doesn't want anybody to worry about him. His physical health is barely important anyway; if this vessel dies, he'll get a new one somewhere. So he uses those illusions he's been practicing to cloak his visible symptoms as soon as he realizes they're happening. He's only pale for a minute or two; the thin veins in the back of his hand go black for a second, and then suddenly he looks hale and hearty once more.

But he can't hide everything. He can't hide the sudden coughing fit that wracks his body, leaving him to lean against the nearest wall as he gasps for air. Air - the sudden need for it is terrifying. For a moment, he genuinely looks like the old man he pretends to be.

Realizing he's been seen, he forces himself upright and tucks away the handkerchief he was coughing into. Was there a dark smear on it?]

Sorry, sorry, I'm fine. Just choking on my own spit - why are all the important human tubes so close together?

iii. we will play hide and seek

[Somehow, no matter where he tries to go, Michael's steps always lead him down, down, into the twisted remnants of the Ghost Zone.

It doesn't start off intentional. His illness, his malfunctioning limbs and the incessant pounding in his head, just makes it even harder to find his way through the nightmare that is Wonderland. The first time he finds himself in those particular dark hallways, the whole place strikes him as just plain unnerving. He can't leave quickly enough.
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
The second time he ends up there, he lingers a little longer, running a hand idly along the wall as he walks. Not wood - something stronger, he thinks. The cool, smooth texture is actually kinda pleasant. But he doesn't see anybody else in the area, so he leaves again.
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
By the third time, he decides that the labyrinth isn't really that bad. If he's gonna keep wandering down here anyway, maybe it wouldn't be so awful to just hang out for a while. It's almost a comforting place, honestly. The cold air calms his coughing and eases his aches. When he's alone - which, here, is always - he can drop his illusions and just relax. In the darkness, no one can see what's really happening to him.
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
The labyrinth calms that fluttering anxiety in his chest,
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORKthe one he's felt ever since Wonderland crumbled.KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK
KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP

He sits on the stairs, at the top of the spiraling staircase, and lets his eyes slide shut as he leans against the wall. No illusions, no light. With no spells to focus on, he lets his thoughts fade into the buzz of exhaustion always threatening to overtake him. Right now, there's nothing to worry about.

The cool wall against his temple is welcoming. It makes sense, really, doesn't it? This was the Ghost Square, once. The haunted house, the lounge and the office he'd made, even the mirror maze - they were his places in Wonderland. They've changed, but his connection to them hasn't. This is where he ought to be.

KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK KEEP UP THE GOOD
Work! The realization hits him with a sudden spike of guilt. Shit, he's been missing work! The audience doesn't want to see him sitting around - they want to see people suffer. They want horror. And it's Michael's job to give it to them.

He stands, feeling suddenly revitalized, and cloaks himself in another illusion. In the perfect black hallway, already so dark, it's easy to blend in seamlessly with the background. That must be why - he's not sure if he designed it or some producer did, but that must be why. With another illusion to mask the sound of his footsteps, hardly anyone would even know he was there! Now all he has to do is track down a good victim, some little mortal to scream and run and maybe bleed. From there - well, between his illusions and what the labyrinth has already provided, he thinks he's got a fair amount of options.

The Ghost Square is back in business. Let's put on a great show!]

iv. nobody's home, nobody's home

[Wildcard! hmu if you want something else!]

locked

[eudaimonikos]

(( Placeholder for future shit! ))

warning: near death experience

[napstar]

Minato's Saved!
[ Minato, dying, falls. Nyx towers over him, wings spread, arm raised. They've lost. It's over. They couldn't do anything to stop the end of the world. He just hopes his friends are satisfied with their attempt.

He's being dragged. There's a whisper of fur against his face. Koromaru must have pulled himself back up. It's futile. He catches glimpses of Shadows and black mist. His eyes can't focus. His body is gone. He's dying. He knows this. The last thing he sees is the image of Shinjiro, though he's far too muddled to do more then recognize the blur of colors and shapes.

Unconscious, he's dumped into the medical bay which is more of a first aid shack, and gets tended to by people he wouldn't recognize if he was conscious. He's out for several hours, his slow breathing one of the few indicators that he's still alive. He's covered in stitches and bandages. The quick work of those staying in Shadowdale kept him alive.

He wakes up several hours later, no longer actively dying but too injured to get up and wander around, so he just lies there, waiting. He watches people as they walk by, unconcerned though he doesn't understand what's going. His eyes focus on you as you approach, but he doesn't say anything. If you know him, you can tell there's no recognition in his eyes. ]

OOC
Minato nearly died during the attempt to rescue him from the Night Show 2.0. He used his horror die and rolled mind, and has forgotten everything about the Bureau and everyone he's met here. Due to his injuries he'll be anchored to the makeshift bed until the CTA is over. Feel free to have a chat!

Closed to Shinjiro Aragaki

[napstar]

[ When he wakes up his vision takes a while to blur into focus. The first thing that catches his attention is a figure hanging around near his bed who looks an awful lot like Shinjiro Aragaki. Minato still has trouble forming full thoughts and his body feels heavy and numb, like it's not quite there with his consciousness yet, but he's pretty sure Shinjiro was dead. ]

... Shinjiro-san?

[ He says it in just above a whisper, much less energy than he thought he had. There's a weakness within him, and a point much further away that's got his attention for some reason. ]

Alex Browning | OTA

[rockymountaindie]

i. shadowdale - give him a hand?
[ After the whole intense rescue thing, Alex needs a break before venturing back into Wonderland. It's not like Shadowdale's a picnic, but at the very least it's not completely made of...well, all that.

Besides, between all the expeditions, they've all got to have a place to go, right?

So he tries to help out around the makeshift infirmary areas. He landed here himself (hilarious, Wonderland, positively side-splitting), so he's trying to do his best to do his part, for those who've gotten banged up fighting the shadows or just having a rough time out there. The problem is, uh, he's got...a bit of a handicap. In trying to bandage others or get people water, or a compress, or whatever, he's realizing he's incredibly out of...practice.

See, despite not having a mark on them? His hands hang limply. Every so often, he reaches for something absentmindedly and knocks something over, biting back a curse. It's not working. He didn't have this much trouble before but- but they were bandaged, he could see them injured, now they just look fine-

Eventually, he's going to give up. More of a nuisance than anything right now.

ii. wonderland - do-over (cw: unreality, incineration)

[ But, he has to go back into Wonderland sometime. Sporting a new red and black right eye, he's filled with a new sense of purpose. There's...so much wrong here. He can see it. All of it. The whole of Wonderland reeks of Wrong. And he's going to venture back into it, to fix it.

...Or, to try to. He finds himself turned around in the tree. Nothing is as it was, and the world's dark and cold.

Eventually, he's...somewhere. He finds something. That something appears like a hospital, from the walls, the reception desk, the sanitized smells. ]

Hello? [ Nothing. Despite cots and beeping machines, there's no one here. No patients, no doctors. ] Ah, fuck...

[ He looks around. It appears like he'd think it to, not all...fantasy rustic, like Faerun. But it's no place he recognizes. Wonderland isn't pulling from his memory, he doesn't think. It's just a cold, clean, clinical place. The occasional announcement over the PA, despite the lack of people, Code Blue in Delivery Room 6, Code Blue. Doctor Lee, report to pediatrics. Paging Doctor Kalarjian, paging Doctor Kalarjian.

Alex tells himself to be on guard. Nothing's right here. But his mind can't help but play tricks on him. It's a flash, out of the corner of his eye. Something bright and colorful. Movement. ]

Hello?! Hey- [ He turns, and it's gone. It's gone somewhere, and he's not going to lose it. Lead him on a wild goose chase, fine. At least it's not a black shadow, a wisp of fog. The flash keeps leading him, just out of sight, just at the periphery. Something about the flash is Wrong. ] Get back here!

[ The sound of a door closing, and Alex knows where he's going. It's here, this room. Every other door's open, each one full of indistinct chatter, belonging to those who don't exist. But this one... He looks up, through the window, breath catching. A flash of something moving, but he can't see it properly. It's blurry. It's distant. It's light, gold, it's--

Alex opens the door. That's when everything goes wrong.

See, if he'd been paying attention, he would've been able to tell, the usually large and open vents have all been closed. A tube reaching up to an oxygen machine (on, beeping, as if someone's there, invisibly-) is cut, the hiss of gas first thing he hears. The defibrillator cart sitting next to the bed, it's almost unplugged from the wall. The chord runs across the door, and by opening it, it catches. Yanks the plug from the wall, from its already-shoddy electrical socket.

(It turns around, she turns around, casts him a smile before--)

The room's full of pure oxygen. An oxidizer. The vents can't circulate it. The plug's poorly maintained. A spark, which ignites the room. Which ignites him, which burns away his hair, eyes, his everything, in wide shock--



He looks around. It appears like he'd think it to, not all...fantasy rustic, like Faerun. But it's no place he recognizes. Wonderland isn't pulling from his memory, he doesn't think. It's just a cold, clean, clinical place. The occasional announcement over the PA, despite the lack of people, Code Blue in Delivery Room 6, Code Blue. Doctor Lee, report to pediatrics. Paging Doctor Kalarjian, paging Doctor Kalarjian.

Alex stands in the hall, listening to the murmurs of the non-existent. Sweat pouring down his face, teeth gritted and breathing ragged, he laughs. ]

Oh... Oh, you fucking think you're funny. Don't you? Real fucking funny, huh?

[ This is only the first. Premonitions are a bitch like that, aren't they?


Should you wander into this horrorscape, you may not find yourself in the hospital. You can find yourself anywhere that would appear normal and safe, for your character. Something horrible will happen, from something seemingly mundane. Your character will experience death, but then it'll all be fine! They can try and escape. But death will continue to come for them. No accidents, no coincidences, no mishaps, and no escapes.

Set the scene. Alex'll find his way there. ]

locked prompts but theres only one

[rockymountaindie]

shadowdale - ravens (closed to sayori)

[ It wasn't a good idea.

That's what Alex tells himself, as he feels something claw out of his throat. The dice had already rendered him unable to use his hands, but even with Sayori's assistance, he knows in his gut he can't do this. Not without giving something up. So, it wasn't a good idea, but he does it, and quite suddenly the whole world is different.

His eye burns but only for a moment. A knife presses against his throat but only for a moment. The hissing in his ear subsides, and he finds himself on his knees, gasping. ]

What- [ He looks around. Balance. Balance. The world needs Balance. Everything is Wrong. He looks for Sayori. Is she okay? ] Sayori, what's- what happened?

guido mista | ota

[protegge]

i. we will scream out His name in the meadow ( arrival )

[He comes to with a die in his outstretched hands, frozen in time. When he can move again, there's something in his chest, or his throat, or both or all of the above. He clutches his throat, nearly dropping the die, claws blunt-nailed gouges at his flesh until he almost draws blood.]

[Except not blood. Wheezing, he coughs some of it up and sees a spray of black. Looking down at his hands, he sees tar under his nails. What he can't see is the thick sucking black veins stark against skin sickly in contrast with his normal sun-kissed olive. When he breathes out, it's black mist.]

[His survival depends on being able to move. Even at the start, he knows something's wrong. Even at the start, as he meets another Reclaimer's eyes, he's looking for what he already knows is there: horror, or disgust, or something in between.]

ii. wander the woods like we're hansel & gretel ( hallways )

[Mista doesn't know how it is that he came to be in this place. A wrong turn made somewhere; he doesn't know. He doesn't know how long he's been down here — going down and down in circles, getting colder and colder until his fingertips start to turn blue.]

[What he knows is that going in circles is starting to hurt his mind. What he knows is that he's running out of food. What he knows is that if he was alone, he would've lost it a long time ago.]

Hey.

[Voice rough, fingers trembling, he reaches for the person stuck in this shit with him. They're lit up by the halo of light flickering around them; by nothing else at all. The tinderbox doesn't seem to work down here. He's trying not to think about why that might be.]

[The walls roar, a flickering reflection of his fear. He forces himself to smile, ghastly in the dim light.]

Tell me a story. Pass the time. [Keep spirits up. He's watching his breath, careful to keep it as clear as he can.] I'll tell you one, too.

iii. wildcard

[Hit me with whatever you got. I'm open to anything different, especially in post-Stylosaquest threads. PM or passiones for something specific.]

HORRORSCAPE.

[protegge]

iv. God only knows how cold it's getting ( horrorscape )

[Battle Square was for fighting, not very long ago. With the skin peeled off, Battle Square is still for fighting, although it's unrecognizable as what it was: a twisting, winding street, the kind hewn in by old buildings pressed together by the development of a modern city. A neighborhood left behind, homey and inviting, except for the way the apartments with their friendly balconies merge into a tunnel ceiling overhead. That, and the lack of a single living soul to be seen.]

[Except Mista. And you. There's life in him again now that he's out of the staircase, grim determination despite the occasional ooze of tar from his parted lips or the corners of his eyes. Something about him goes alert at a particular twist of the road as he sees something, or smells something. Some kind of sense-memory.]

Careful, [he says, more a movement of his lips than a truly audible sound, and holds out an arm to the side. Protective, but tense, too.]

[PURPLE HAZE; GORE + BODY HORROR + ANIMAL DEATH. The smell of ozone. A grayish-purple fog down a side alley. Mista almost kicks you away from the mouth of it. You see a shadowy figure, something strange and surging and wrong, slick spit dropping from between sewn-up lips. It groans, gristles, screams. The sound of something cracking. The sound of something bubbling. Mista's on your tail, running with eyes so white the whites show all around, as birds fall out of the sky around you. Sizzling and necrotic, bubbling, dead (hopefully) or at the very least dying. Something eating them alive from the inside out. The haze follows you out of the alleyway, angry and shrieking. You should keep running.]

[METALLICA, GORE (GEN, NAILS) + BODY HORROR. It's like licking a car battery. All around you, metal; metal on your tongue, in your veins, under your nails. Under your nails — nails pressing out from under your nails, pushing them up and up until off they pop, ripping out and clattering on the floor, enough nails to build a birdhouse. You haven't bled yet, but already you feel lightheaded; whatever it is, it's using your blood, using you to rip you apart from the inside out. Beside you, Mista coughs out black and red as a razor black slices through his cheek from the inside out.]

[KING CRIMSON, UNREALITY + DISSOCIATION. You are walking up the street, ever on a slight incline. Then you are several steps forward from where you last remember being. Like time has skipped. Like someone has moved everything forward and only you forgot. You look at Mista, alarmed, heart in your throat, and he's got a hand over his mouth like he's going to be sick and the other latches tight around your wrist because what the hell is going to happen to you if he lets you go. Time skips again. You're several steps forward. Mista is no longer holding onto your wrist. You've moved ahead, and something is holding him back. He says something that sounds almost, almost, like The Devil.]

[VOODOO CHILD, BODY HORROR. This one is easy. Right? Almost calm. Even Mista doesn't look that worried. So maybe it'll be okay. Something skitters across your path, not human or animal or anything even remotely recognizable. It looks at you and, with one (hand? paw?), lashes out, hitting you somewhere — arm, chest, leg. Doesn't matter. Wherever it struck, a mouth forms, not painful but a perfect replica of your real one. And what does it say? Your most shameful secret, in a wretched twisting version of your own voice.]

[shootstyles]

i. The Illusion Breaks Down (cw: emetophobia)

[They need to leave.

That’s all Izuku can think about. They need to get the hell out of here now. And he can get out. Even as he stops to vomit up sticky sap that’s building up in his stomach or wipes it as it falls out of his eyes like tears, he can move. He still has One for All. He can get out.

But other people can’t. And he can’t just leave them. That’s not who he is.

So he stays, trying to help whomever he can get out. If you seem like you need help, he’ll rush over to you and give you a hand or even carry you if that’s what you need. And he tries to do it with a smile on his face.]

Hey. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. We’ll get out of this.

[Sap drips from his nose. But he doesn’t pay it any mind.]

ii. This isn’t for me but I’m here anyway

[Izuku descends into the labyrinth. Both out of curiosity and out of desperation to find something, to do something. What if someone is trapped in there?

The air chills and the walls shift and something roars in the distance. Izuku swallows and presses forward. He occasionally plays a soft melody on his violin, in hopes that it will reach someone who is lost and alone.

The mirror with the red X shows his reflection. Or sometimes, it shows him smaller, beaten and bloodied, and worst of all, hopeless. The light in his eyes isn’t there.

But he keeps pushing. If he finds you, he’ll smile and go over to you.]

Hey! If we go together, we’re less likely to get lost. We should try to see if anyone in here needs help. Do you need water? I have some. This rag always produces clean water. It sounds gross but it works pretty well.

[He offers it to you. His reflection is normal.]

iii.Welcome to the Nightmare Show (cw: allusions to suicide)

[This place is unpleasant. But it seems like it’s the epicenter of a heck of a lot of the trouble here and Izuku is always attracted to trouble whether he likes it or not.
The ghoul approaches him with a contract.

Around him, the walls change into a memory. It’s sketchy, and the figures move against a static background. Everything is scrawled with crayon as though the lines were colored in by a child.
A group of children in kindergarden clothes laugh and play together. One figure, another child, with messy green hair and freckles, stands alone away from the group.

”Can I play too? I know all about heroes…” A small voice asks. Laughter sounds. Childish at first but it distorts into something cruel and wicked.

“Get out of here, Izuku! You’re just a Quirkless loser.”

“Gross! Don’t touch him or else you might catch his disease and become Quirkless too!”

“Wait! It’s not like that!”

The cruel laughter sounds and the group leaves the one child standing alone. Dejected, the Izuku on the walls walks away, alone. The drawings change. The art becomes clearer, older, less childlike. The Izuku on the wall becomes older too, wearing a middle school uniform. Still, he walks alone, past the crowds of other students in the hallways of a school. He keeps his eyes down.

He walks up the stairs from his classroom. Everyone ignores him. He opens the door that goes to the roof. No one acknowledges him. Step by step, expressionless, the Izuku on the wall ascends the staircase.
A voice echoes. A voice that might be familiar to some. It echoes, digging into your ears, like it’s being said in your own head instead of in the room.

Wh͡y ̷d͡ǫn̢'͢t ͞you̡ ͠take a͠ s͡wa͏n͞ ́dive ͏o̕ff̴ t̨h͟é r̛oo͟f͜? ́ M͟a͠ỳbe ̨yo͏u̵'ll g̷e͝t a Qùi͠r͟k͏ ̛i͝n̡ ̵your nex̶t ̴l̴i͜fe̡!͠

The Izuku on the wall approaches the fence at the edge of the roof.

The crowd laughs.]

N-no! That’s not… that’s not funny!

[Any hint of a smile is gone from Izuku’s face. He looks small, afraid, unsure. That didn’t happen. But it’s his memories that had been twisted into something else. Another voice echoes:

Y͝ơu a͢re unworth̶y̴ o͏f̴ be͜ing ́A̷l͏l Mi͘g͏ht̕'ś ͝s͟uc̛ce̸s͟sor̷, ҉Mi̴d̸o̢riya. ̨

The crowd laughs harder.

Izuku seems frozen in place. He's been trying to help everyone out but... even heroes need help too.]

[shootstyles]

[Placeholder just in case!]

blake belladonna | post-death | ota

[gambolshroud]

a. awakening (closed to ferran)

[For awhile, there's nothing but the sound of roots growing. How long, she couldn't say, but when it finally ends, there's a small part of her that almost misses it, feels strange not to have it. It's the first thing she's felt at all in days, but that doesn't last long. Even as her eyes slowly open, her body is racked with pain, well beyond the ache in her chest from where she had—

Oh. Right.

As injuries went, it was the way she had always expected she might someday meet her end. Huntresses went down fighting, but most didn't get back up again. It had happened so quickly that she doesn't know for certain what happened, but she knows what they had been trying to do, and even as she props herself up on one hand, she asks of whoever might be near enough to hear:]

Did we save—

[And then her head is spinning so quickly that the room seems to turn on its side, and she collapses back against the bed she'd found herself on upon waking, letting out a faint but frustrated groan.]

Okay... too fast.

[She'll have to take this nice and slow, apparently.]

b. shadowdale (open)

[Once she's filled in on what happened, even knowing that she had, in fact, died during her attempt to help save Minato, Blake isn't content to stay still and rest. Despite the constant pain and fatigue weighing her down, not to mention other symptoms that she can't bring herself to think about for too long, she can't stand to be idle. She can't fight like this, but hell if she's going to admit that openly. She'll find some other way to be useful.

The makeshift infirmary is one of the first places she visits, though getting there is slow and difficult, and she has to stop to be sick on the way. She imagines that since she'd revived elsewhere, that the beds are probably full of injured Reclaimers in need of some kind of respite, and while her survival skills may not cut it here, she's still a pair of willing hands. She can't fight as she is right now, but she's certain she can do this.]

What... [She takes a breath and tries again, unwilling to let fatigue keep her from doing her part.] What needs doing?

[Later, she can be found looking up at Yggdrasil, her three-sided die clutched in one hand. She still has her 'cheat code,' something to sacrifice, and what's happened to her so far— it's not a defeat. She can still do something, even if she doesn't know what. Even if she can barely stand on her own two feet and carry herself forward.]

Whatever the cost... we have to get this relic.

c. wildcard

[Anything else that suits your fancy! Blake is opted-in for horror. Feel free to hit me up via PM or at necrofancy if you'd like to work something out together.]

;)

[noblegarnet]

[There's a noise coming from the room he laid Blake's body in, and that alone is enough to alarm him into jumping to his feet and darting over to the (slammed open with Thaumaturgy) door. If one of those monsters managed to spawn here—or worse, if this place is using her—

He freezes, wide-eyed, in the doorway. For the moment, he doesn't know whether it is her. Pale skin, dark veins, black eyes—there are a few others who've started to have the same look about them here, but he doesn't know enough to be sure. The relic has already proven to be capable of taking their bodies for its own means.

For the moment, he just stares, unsure of what to do or say. He's almost afraid that if he tries to say her name that he'll just be proven wrong.]

[gotyourbach]

A. shadowdale (post-minato rescue)

[Kaede isn't far from the infirmary, a half-eaten set of rations at her side showing that her break is due to having lunch, but she is somewhere a little odd for those who know her -- the roof, sitting on the edge, feet swinging carelessly over the side as she rests her weight back on gloved hands and gazes out at the tree. She hums some basic waltzes, feet swinging in time with the music, but keeps coming back to a song less a waltz than a beginner's tune. Der Flohwalzer is a really simple tune, one that used to fill her with dread, with guilt, with pain and horror.

Now it's just a song. It's kind of refreshing!

In any case, she's a far cry from the girl who was so worried and upset about Minato over the network just the day before.]

B. battle square (DRV3 spoilers)

[Kaede cuts a striking figure when she fights, especially to those who've never seen it before. Scherzos and concertos play from her cloak, whipping behind her as she keeps a rapier at the ready. Her feet aren't in perfect form, but it's clear she does actually know what she's doing, humming an accompaniment to her cloak in an attempt to use Bardic Inspiration on herself. Bardic Inspiration, and maybe Vicious Mockery, though her Vicious Mockery isn't really... all that Vicious.]

Shut up, you awful monster!

[What had been just another blob in battle square cackles, reforms into a Roland -- no. Not a Roland. This one is two-toned black-and-white, only knee high. It looks like it should be easily puntable, but several-inch long razer-sharp claws extend from its plush paws.]

You wanted to be in the Killing Game! That's why you started it, Akamatsu-san! [the bear cackles with glee, a distinctive upupupu laugh as he lunges forward.]

Aaaagh! Shut up, you lying bear!

[She whirls, spears it with her rapier, but it dissolves into so much fluff, reforming a few feet away. Upupupu.]

C. wildcard!

[ooc: plans have been made, but if you have one of your own, feel free to use this space to tag kaede! pre-minato-rescue, she'll be barfing up black shadows and searching for the new night show in an attempt to rescue him. otherwise she'll be bouncing back and forth between shadowdale and wonderland! feel free to hit me up @ jaderhade for plotting!]

FAITO

[jailed]

[ this is a disaster.

cutting through the battle square to find people he knows is damn near impossible, but he hears kaede before he sees her... or, rather, he hears the insults. the super weak insults... and, more importantly, he hears the response.

what in the hell is the killing game? barely crosses his mind before a knife slides into his palm. and he steals forward, stealthily. he is the night.

and, suddenly, a knife thwunks in between the eyes of the damn thing. it dissolves into fluff again, and akira appears at kaede's side, somewhat frustrated. ]

Need some help?

Nicholas D. Wolfwood | ota

[mycrosstobear]

1. The Petrified Forest (cw: emetophobia)

[Here, the former employees of Wonderland are scattered around like driftwood. Propped up against walls, leaning on stalls that are now made of twisted roots, lying across the floor. The first employees he'd seen were turning like this, but they hadn't been this bad. No one here even moves to cough up that black tar.

Wolfwood crouches down next to one of the bodies. You really would just think it was a wooden statue, if you didn't have reason to believe otherwise. He places a hand on the petrified elf's forehead and closes his eyes to concentrate. He stays like that for a minute, until he opens his eyes again, his expression disturbed.] They're still alive. [Which means they're trapped by whatever it is that's happened to them. Are they aware, still watching everything from wooden faces?

He staggers as he stands back up. He didn't even get results from using that power, and it's still worn him out. He coughs into his hand. And then stands there, staring at the black gunk that came out.]

2. You Must Have Heard That Dreadful Noise

[He's gotten lost.

Wolfwood had thought that if he could just find the place where the tram used to be, maybe they could get a better lay of the land. Maybe the geography of the place hadn't been too transformed for that. But trying to find a way upwards just turned into walking up a steep hallway, growing darker and narrower. He can't stop, though. Going forward is the only thing that makes sense. Right? You can't turn your back. Right. And there's someone ahead of him. He can hear it. Can't leave them alone. Right.

But it's completely dark now. He slows, keeping one hand against the wall and listening.

Suddenly, there's a massive thumping sound, as if someone bounced a bowling ball against a wall. But the wall beneath his hand is still.]

3. Vexed to Nightmare

[He's been here before. Hasn't he?

You've been here before. Haven't you?

a.

It's a desert. Of course it's a desert, there isn't anything else on this planet. (A giant tree? What are you talking about?) And you're stuck right in the middle of it, after your motorcycle died a few miles back and you decided to try to keep walking along this route. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the best option. You're unbearably thirsty, and have had to sit down. Though you continue to bake in the heat from both suns - it's not as if the large cross at your back or the shadows of the indignant local birds offer real shade.

b.

Or maybe this is your memory.

]



((Feel free to go for anything on 3-b, or hit me up at paperbacks on plurk if you'd like to discuss an idea!))

farnese de vandymion

[vandymion]

waking up; (closed to whoever kept an eye on her body after the stylosa rescue attempt)

[ It's been a long couple of days of being dead. The sounds and the voice she keeps hearing, the heavy feeling on her chest is unlike anything she's experienced before -- and she was starting to think she'd seen more than most people.

So when she finds that she can finally open her (horrific, now-black) eyes and sit up, she does her best to do so, despite the pain thrumming through her body. She has no idea where she is or why she's still here -- did someone save her? She remembers hands. Hands, and screaming, and ...

She sits up forcefully, before coughing up something black into her hand. ]

just another tuesday; (horrorscape -- cw: burning at the stake, mind/body control, potential self-harm, and ... man, it's berserk, okay, there's gonna be a lot of gore somewhere in here)

[ A flicker of flame is all that lights the darkened room. At a brief glance, the stone room houses the sparse, yet extravagant bedroom of a young girl. Most importantly, the massive bed is empty and cold, aside from a small, shivering heap of a girl in the middle (is she really that tiny? Or is the bed just that big?), several blankets wrapped around her as she hides in fear of what lies outside her window. ]

[ The fire. Outside the window the light shines through, it begins to roar ever-higher, along with the murmurs of the people surrounding it. The fire burns throw piles of straw, surrounding a wooden platform with a steady pole through the center. Farnese is there, too -- on the stairs leading up to the platform, the fire shining brilliantly against the silver plate armor she's adorned with.

And suddenly, the one in the armor is you -- a torch in your hand, as you prepare to set the plain rags of the person tied to the stake alight. ]

[ Or maybe it's the trolls. They're not especially large or strong on their own -- maybe 3 feet tall, at best -- but there's so many of them. Hundreds, maybe even a thousand. They rush the outside of the building with their clubs, nameless and faceless armored soldiers falling easily to their clubs and sheer number.

And then they begin to climb. They shove and push each other, catching any little jutting stone to make their way into the window. ]

[Or maybe ... it's an incubus. They're hardly big enough to be terrifying on their own, but they come on fast -- and even worse, your body seems to be frozen, incapable of swatting it away or moving to avoid its tentacled grasp on your head.

And once they've settled into where they'd like to be, the fear sets in. You are not in physical danger, no, but the fear that ripples through you is the fear of your innermost thoughts and doubts laid bare. The incubus knows just what it is that would tear you apart, from the inside out. It knows exactly what to say to you to make you pick up that knife and show it what your insides look like -- all that blood would be a delicious treat for any demon.

Can you resist its thrall? ]

wildcard;

[ Need anything else from Farnese? Feel free to hit me up via PM here, crepusculae or dusking#1264 on Discord! ]

corpsing

[feytality]

[ it turns out, it was a wolf! a very scruffed up one with a glass leg. still fluffy, though. it's curled up close to farnese, resting, but when she wakes up, it raises its head, and nudges her. ]

[ there's a bright light around it, which hopefully might ease some of farnese's pain. but upon the coughing, it looks up at her with concerned eyes. ]

Erika | OTA

[bu773rfly]

[1] hacker's memory (event square)
--> cw: car accident, hospitals, brain injury, memory loss/distortion, unreality

[Everything is leaking. She's no exception. It's an accepted hazard of returning to Wonderland. You accept it, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be helping Erika explore, watching her back as she tries to map out the tree's warped geometry. Or whatever it is you're doing here. Crossing paths. Wandering lost. Just accept it already.

There is a memory and the memory is ------------ having been pressed through distortions of creation, storage, retrieval. There is a normal car on a normal day on a normal overpass in a normal city. There is noise, impact, confusion, contained eternity a bed? a room? something is lost, someone is here, up is down and down is up and the memories grow out of place swallowing up time and space like the branches of this sick tree spawning worlds unto themselves spilling out like blood heat pain confusion confusion miss do you understand what is do you understand can you remember no nothing hurts at all because she can't remember until she remembers until she can't remember until she wants to leave but she can't leave but brother are you still there i'm scared but .

There is a memory reconstructed. It is full of holes. The holes fill themselves with abstract details. There is a ----- in a hospital bed. The walls were painted the color of -----. There were ----- people in the room. The memory is ----- days long and the world which is the room fades in and out in dizzy blotches.

There is a memory reconstructed. It is full of holes. The holes fill themselves with abstract details. There is a ----- in a small dingy room in a space station. The walls were playing ----- music at top volume. There were ----- broken VR terminals in the room. The girl in the memory has not slept in ----- days and the world which is the room fades in and out in dizzy blotches.]

That one's mine, [Erika says, about one or both, kind of stubbornly. Like, claiming the obvious, because the whole point of this shit when it happens is that these are secrets and it's supposed to be invasive and hurtful but it can't be if it's yours, can it? If you call its name? It's hers.] The thing about memory that you don't really think about is that none of it is actually set in the past. It's a simulation. A present configuration of your brain, possibly modeled after something you perceived in the past, physically part of you right now. [This cannot be anything but a rehearsed spiel. Erika rattles it off too quickly, and without breaking her focus from the path she walks and the notes she takes, for it to be impromptu.] They change over time. Your present affects how you look back on your past. That's kind of obvious, right? But the key is that whatever's after this will exert that pressure too. If we have to change to make it out -

[She trips. There's a short little gasp from her, not part of the spiel, and her eyes widen in a moment of pure surprise, and then she's just...gone.

But not gone. There's a drop, a strange trick of the landscape and a short fall and the guts of the room beneath and Erika lying more-or-less-okay-looking at the bottom, and the walls there are blaring too but it's something different, a swimming churning optical illusion of nothingness and a strange steady sound like static or chewing or the noise of matter undoing itself. The sound is quiet above, louder leaning down over the gap, probably deafening in the pit.

And though she doesn't look hurt, bruised at worst from the fall, Erika seems frozen under the surprise of that sound, eyes huge and limbs locked, barely breathing.]


[wildcard?]

[Hit me up any time if you have something you want to accomplish. Also, Erika is involved with the research crew based in Shadowdale, so she'll be doing that frequently, as well as just spending nights and rest periods there. Open to any generic Shadowdale content.]

placeholder

[bu773rfly]

[for if i finish this horrorscape prompt in a reasonable amount of time :/ don't reply pls thx]

eleanor shellstrop | ota

[coolranchbaby]

a. welcome! everything is fine. [revival//locked to whoever stuck around at the pharmacy, after her group carried her there]

[Two days ago, Eleanor Shellstrop made a very important choice. Said choice saved ten innocent elves and her five group mates along with earning her a brief bit of face time with the manager of Wonderland himself- right before her trolley problem came to it's unfortunate conclusion.

Eleanor doesn't know how long she's just heard the constant roots and that voice she doesn't know. It could be a few hours or three months or 300 years in the dot of the i in Jeremy Bearimy and she wouldn't have known the difference. What she does know, as consciousness trickles back to her and the sudden flood of pain hits, is that she needs to know if she did it. Are the others okay? Did they really vanish from her sight right before the monster plowed into her or did Mia just let go of her hand at the worst possible moment?

Where her friends laid out her body, Eleanor jerks very suddenly back into the land of the living with a sharp, hissing curse of pain and not quite daring to open her eyes yet.]

Son of a-

[Okay. She can deal with this. Just eat as many painkillers as she medically can, maybe invest in some fantasy essential oils. Absolutely foolproof plan.

She waits another few seconds, waiting to see of the pain will pass and when it doesn't she cautiously opens her now solid black eyes. Definitely not the nightmare cave, so that's a good sign. She glances around the room, the details of her surroundings slowly clicking into place until her gaze falls on someone else in the room. She stares for a moment, grimacing at another stab of pain before flashing an exhausted but somehow still smug grin.]

So. What'd I miss?

b. shadowdale [open]

[As much as going back to Wonderland seems like a thing that should be done, Eleanor is good out here. Sure, she'll go back if she needs to but between her pain and fatigue, her want to keep an eye on Michael and her other friends, and making sure the elves are as good as can be expected she has her hands full in Shadowdale and that's fine by her for the moment.

Despite not being able to move as well or as quickly as she'd like (much to her frustration), Eleanor can be found almost anywhere in Shadowdale. She'll help with most tasks with adequate speed and only a moderate amount of complaining. Every once in a while you may catch her aggressively stomping on a very small black ooze monster. That's probably fine and normal.

A good amount of the rest of her time is spent back at the pharmacy or the makeshift infirmary, probably resting up from her everpresent fatigue or checking in on her fellow Reclaimers.]

c. wildcard!!

[hit me up on discord (SlothBless#5857) or on plurk (slothbless) if you have something else in mind!!]

[doubledsofjustice]

[Mia had certainly not let go of Eleanor's hand by choice.

Really, as Ghost, she'd only gone along because Eleanor had already burned herself into the case files in Mia's mind as an impressive and interesting person. Though Ghost could barely understand how she was a part of it, she had memories of Eleanor rallying those elves as if she was from behind a veil, watching Michael and Eleanor and the elves speak without her centerpoint even being acknowledged. It had been simple to accept assisting Eleanor on her quest- Ghost had a reason to protect Eleanor, and Ghost would follow their duty. The decision to hold Eleanor's hand as they faced their fate had been a simple one; if she could not save Eleanor, then she'd die supporting her, by her side.

But she hadn't. Eleanor'd gotten her way, her foolish, selfless way-- and had died without her *and* without a few of her elves. It'd been a conflicting feeling, even if at first Mia's only priority had been returning to Lion. But Ghost had two days to ponder, and to help with the mending and tending, and to process.]

Two days, is what.

[Ghost answers, striding over to Eleanor's side to look her over, brows knitting at the sight of Eleanor's eyes as she pushes some of Eleanor's hair out of her face.]

Ah...

[That's no good.]