[TDM] September 2023 (again!)

[inkveil]

SEPTEMBER 2023 TDM (part 2!)

You wake up, completely alone in an unfamiliar place. The forest around you is awash in the pleasant coolness of early autumn. Any time-telling devices have stopped working and nothing looks familiar. But the visitors center has maps and information on the area, and with a bit of looking around you find the name of a nearby town: Ashbrook.

Welcome to the (second) TDM for September! Please direct any questions you may have here.

Object Terror

What:

A haunted house with some haunted hitchhikers

When:

Evenings in October

Warnings:

Varies, see here

---

As the air chills, the nights cool, and the leaves dress up in autumnal splendor, the yearly spooktacular surprises begin to take root in the town once again. While Turnit Around Turnip makes their auspicious charms the focal point of their sales – it's good for casting away evil spirits and bad luck, you see – there's the rising excitement of Miss Fortune's Mystery Manor returning as well. It's a rather old house, normally abandoned with "private property" signs hung with care and watched over carefully by the local force to ensure no miscreants find their ways inside, but with fall sweeping in on the northern winds new signs have appeared.

Come on by! They say, decorated with colorful leaves and pumpkins stickers. Harmless as can be, skeletons greeting any who should pass with a hand perpetually raised. Feeling brave? Test your courage in this year's haunted house!

Bring a friend, it implies, or maybe a date. It'd be a nice time to try your luck with a little "physical comfort" as the teens like to say.

The yard is decorated with all sorts of 'spooky' bits and bobs, like inflated ghosts and a cauldron spilling out smoke. Hands from the ground. Shadows in the window. Maybe even a face or two, but it's plain to see they're just illuminated cutouts if you dare to look too long at them. Within is much the same affair, with cobwebs both real and fake in the corners of the rooms, a worn red carpet indicating the pathway through the haunted exploration. There's your usual jumpscares, closets opening and cabinets banging, dolls that blink and books that fall on their own... A ribbon that wraps itself around your feet, paintings whose eyes follow your every move, the hand of a skeleton grasping your arm that definitely was not moving before–

The guide had mentioned, you remember, that a number of the possessions here had come from possessed homes and individuals, knick-knacks that had a life of their own, and allowed out only this time of the year. Employees who work the haunted attraction can attest to suddenly finding hitchhikers when they'd gotten home, and warn with almost a joking tone to make sure you're not a victim yourself! How funny, charming, and definitely not going to happen.

But it does.

Some of the "haunted items'' look pretty nifty. A pocket watch that tells time backwards. A doll that bleeds from the eyes. A book that always falls open on the same pages, paragraphs describing the gruesome death of a young couple at the hands of some fictionalized serial killer with each sentence underlined in a dark, dull brown and dotted with the same. Easy to take, easy to fence off to the right sucker – or just to keep as a souvenir. Steal if you'd like.

Others seem to find their way home in a less natural way, tucked away in your pocket when you go to protect your digits from the chilly fall air or sitting in the entryway of your house. That large painting of a mysterious woman wasn't in your bathroom when you went in, but one look into the mirror and she's staring right back at you, judging your teeth brushing techniques. Just fascinating, unusual things like that – and they'll always find their way "home", too.

---

TL;DR

• A haunted house is in town, and in that house are haunted objects
  
• One way or another, these objects will find a way into a characters home, where they'll cause various spooky effects
  
• You can make up your own item and effects, or comment here to have the mods generate one for you
  
• Existing characters are allowed to request a haunted item, but we ask that they not post top level comments on the TDM itself

Putting the 'Fun' in Fundraiser

What:

A fundraiser with completely normal food

When:

Throughout September and October

Warnings:

Memory loss, delusional thoughts, aggression, violence, food that's been tampered with

---

Where there is fall, there is bound to be fundraisers galore – that's what the odd pop-up shop that seems to appear overnight is for, probably, though the most forgettable face on the planet running it won't say one way or the other. It's "getting pretty chilly out there, huh?" and "say, how about you take a few ciders off my hands" for starring topics, and to his credit the food and drink he offers does look absolutely delectable... not to mention perfect for the cooling weather.

Like any normal shopkeep, he's got exactly three stupendous items for sale:

A warm, spicy apple cider perfect for chasing away the chill and easing that homesickness the Visitors might be feeling about now. It just brings back golden memories, sitting by the hearth or surrounded by loved ones, or if one's past is more of the sad type it's those snatches of happinesses, the small kindnesses shown to them and Lady Luck turning her wily gaze their way. It tastes like nostalgia, it just might not be your own.

Second for sale is the dark rustic coloring of maple syrup in its own leaf-shaped glass jug, sweet enough to give the dentist a week's worth of appointments. In fact, the salesman claims that "nine out of ten dentists" recommend it as a mouthwash – he's just joking of course, for legal reasons. Perfect for everything breakfast and finding a place in some beverages as well, take a bottle or two home for the missus (or mister!) to make use of this autumn season.

Lastly is a special spice mix for the culinary connoisseurs of the town, a special blend of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, and his own flair thrown in that gives it a bit of je ne sais quoi (just like how grammy used to make it!): black pepper. Guaranteed to kick any recipe up a notch, he claims it can be used in drinks, desserts, and as a topper for each as well. Just don't do what the kids call the "pumpkin pie spice challenge", or the hospital's the next place you'll wake up.

But of course, it can't be that simple. Each of these food items has a strange effect on Visitors—and only on Visitors, as it turns out. Each of these effects will last for up to an hour, and are as follows:

The apple cider feels so much like home you'll forget you aren't home. Visitors will forget their lives in canon and believe that they are, in fact, their Ashbrook counterpart. They won't gain any new memories to facilitate this belief, however.

The maple syrup is so sweet you could forget all your worries! ... Literally. The syrup causes total amnesia, causing Visitors to forget their canon memories and their time spent in Ashbrook.

The spice mix has some kick! Too much kick. Characters will find that they're hearing other people's thoughts, projecting their own thoughts at other people, and moving objects without touching them. This can happen even around townsfolk, though they'll be quick to dismiss it as their imagination.

And, finally, all of the foods have a chance of causing heightened feelings of aggression, anger, and paranoia. This could just make you a little more snappish in a slow checkout line... or it could drive you to commit acts of violence, even extreme ones, against your fellow residents of Ashbrook.

---

TL;DR

• A suspiciously normal man is offering spiked food to any interested parties.
  
• Every food item has a chance of increasing aggression, anger, and paranoia, which could lead to violent outbursts.
  
• Apple cider makes Visitors believe that they're actually their Ashbrook counterpart
  
• Maple syrup causes total amnesia
  
• Spice mix gives Visitors minor—and uncontrolled!—telekinetic and telepathic abilities.

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

What:

It's time to learn magic!

When:

Weekends in September and October

Warnings:

None

---

As many Visitors were able to establish last month, the Witch of the Woods isn't just a rumor. She's a real person, a stern but beautiful woman who's willing to teach anyone who seeks her out. Bring her a suitable offering and knock three times on her door in the middle of the night, and she'll answer to teach you what she knows of the supernatural and magic.

... Or at least, those are the rumors. The truth is much simpler: flyers, decorated childishly with bat and cauldron stickers, can be found throughout town, inviting the reader to the "Witch's Retreat". They appear as a Visitor glances away for a second to pick something up, or gently drift down right into their hands. Even the most skeptical, scoff-likely of Visitors will find their interest piqued in the days before it, mind drifting back to the promise of help in their unusual situation.

The retreat itself is headed by a middle-aged woman, who's narrowed gaze inspects the people who've come before she grumbles something under her breath and waves her hand.

"Look in the tree holes for your books and pick a partner to pair with — they aren't the kinds of things you'd want to test on your own. First rule: Always have a third hand. Second: Don't do it in public if you can help it. Final: Don't even try skipping ahead, because they won't answer you."

Whatever that means. It's time to learn magic.

The Witch — if pressed, she'll begrudgingly allow the students to address her as 'Ms. Spinner' — will force characters together with a surprisingly powerful shove of her hand if she passes and you aren't already paired with someone too, so don't think you can get out of this little exercise by going solo! You can't. As far as the promised spirituality goes... listen to the voice within, find your inner peace, and the rest'll come naturally. The Witch isn't too pressed for you whelps to understand off the bat, though she won't leave you out on a limb either.

With the turning of the seasons, the Witch has a new spell to teach: protection against intruders. Combine rosemary and bay leaves in a stone bowl and set the mixture alight on your doorstep. Mix the ashes with rock salt, then sprinkle on the window sills and thresholds of exterior doorways of your home.

The Witch warns that this spell won't keep anyone out (Invest in a good lock, she advises instead), but it will make uninvited visitors feel uneasy about entering your home. Sometimes that's enough.

---

TL;DR

• The characters — Visitors, as they're referred — are able to learn basic level magic with the help of the Witch.
  
• Pair up and practice. This is essential to the process, and the Witch will force unpaired individuals to partner up.
  
• Any higher level magic won't come to the character; it may feel like there's a kind of blockage, even to those who're used to magic themselves.
  
• The Witch isn't open to questions about the town in particular (are you here to gossip or learn?) and won't answer anything about it, so stay on task if you want answers to your questions.

A Day In The Life

New Visitors may wake up in the woods, but that's not where they're going to be spending all of their time. They have homes, jobs, work, entire lives they need to attend to. They'd better get to it!

A Visitor will be instinctively drawn towards both their home and job; they will always know how to navigate the former, and may find the tasks they perform at the latter suspiciously easy. Outside of that, their life will be incredibly normal for the first few days. No one will acknowledge the strangeness in the woods, and a Visitor's insistence that they're not from around here will be treated like a joke.

And then suddenly it's weird again. They wake up one day and realize they have a different job, perhaps even a different home. They will lose any instinctive understanding they may have had of their old job and gain similar understanding of their new job. Visitors will retain all of their memories of their previous job, but if they bring it up to the townsfolk none of them will have any idea what they're talking about.

---

TL;DR

• This prompt is meant to allow players an opportunity to experiment with the role mechanic, without forcing them to retcon their threads if they receive a markedly different role after applying.
  
• Retconning is, of course, still an option - but if you want to give your character another bit of existential confusion, this is the prompt for you.

OOC Notes

If your character dies... While characters may die during the TDM, these deaths do not count towards a character's death count. If a character dies, they will vanish the instant they lose consciousness. The dead character will reappear safely back at the nearest visitors center, and both they and any witnesses will have only a hazy recollection of the event.

If you have any questions, please direct them here.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[inkveil]

Please reply to this comment with any questions you have about the TDM!

Re: QUESTIONS

[thedeadtwinofnarcissus]

Could a ghost medium see/sense ghosts in these objects and in the house?

OBJECT TERROR ITEM GENERATION

[inkveil]

Reply to this comment if you'd like the mods to generate a haunted object for your character! Characters already in game are welcome to request a haunted item, though we ask that they refrain from posting a top level to the TDM.

NOTE: If you wish to avoid any horror movie tropes (e.g.: creepy dolls, creepy children, bugs under the skin, water turning to blood, etc.) make a note about it in your comment and the mods will avoid giving you any related items or effects. And, of course, you're welcome to request a re-roll if the item or effect in question makes you uncomfortable!

[aria_ardeinae]

I'm redecorating hit me up!

[hitokiri]

Tossing this loser in here.

I would just like to avoid things that are clown-coded if possible lmao.

[feralwhm]

I would like to request an object! Nothing involving insects/parasites please.

[vivisectio]

I Would Love An Item Thank You. Fuck me well up.

[phototactic]

Ruin his week.

[heartsnatcher]

Come at me!

The Emperor | Baldur's Gate III | will avoid major spoilers

[faessi]

in the city.

The moment you step into the cafe, you see the squid monster. It's tall, long-limbed and looming, the sides of its head rippling like exposed brain tissue. But there's something sickly, almost pathetic, about it: the tentacles hang heavy from its face. There's an exhausted bow to its back, its movements inelegant and delayed. It looks like a creature not meant to walk on solid land.

Insanely, it's wearing a dress shirt and holding a dog leash. The dog isn't on the leash: the mutt has slipped his collar to bark furiously at the squid monster. The other patrons of the cafe seem to find this funny, exciting, or mildly irritating. No one even looks twice at the tentacles.

In the hideous, guttural whisper of a creature never meant to speak aloud, the squid monster says: "I apologize. I will take him outside." It looms towards the dog, which scampers back - directly into your legs.

in the woods.

Major spoilers for BG3! Prompt crossposted to journal.

city city city city

[vivisectio]

Oh, that poor dog has chosen badly, for a saviour. Not that Kanou dislikes or likes dogs, but he's not inclined to 'protect' it, either. Just looks down at it, smiling serenely, then back at the owner.

How his vapid smile widens when he sees the Emperor. This is nothing like he's ever seen, after all, and he wants to dissect peel back chop slice break peek into dig into devour whole.

Or just look at a piece under the loving gaze of a microscope. Either way.

"'s okay~ How about...I help!"

And he scoops up the dog with a soft 'hm' of effort, before pivoting back towards the cafe door. "Come on, come on, Kanou-san is so generous, let's do this outside and not bother the patrons, Pochi~"

Chuuya Nakahara | Bungou Stray Dogs

[grantor]

( a. object terror )
[ The evening went like this: Chuuya showed up at a haunted house and was about to walk away, and then he and some random other Visitor got shoved together and pushed through the house of horrors. Chuuya had a pretty okay time, mostly laughing at the jumpscares and teasing his companion for any jumpscares they fall for - before falling for one himself, of course.

Ultimately, though, he's laughing as the two of them exit the building, relaxed and unworried. ]

That was pretty stupid, but--

[ Chuuya falls silent as he shoves his hands in his pockets, because there's something in there that definitely wasn't before. He withdraws the object in question and finds himself staring down at a brass pocket watch. He pops the lid open, puzzled, and the air around him is filled with a soft whisper. ]

You'll die in 30 minutes...

[ The whisper fades away, not lingering long enough to explain itself. Chuuya blinks, then looks once more to his companion. ]

The fuck was that?

( b. the 'fun' in fundraiser - maple syrup )
[ There's a man in the woods who doesn't know who he is.

He doesn't know who he is, or where he is, or what he's doing here, or how he got here in the first place. He just knows that it's dangerous. That he's unsafe. That he can't trust the people around him - and that realization sparks rage inside him, because how dare they threaten him? He doesn't know what they have planned, but he'll make them pay.

Someone steps into the clearing he's found for himself and the man whips his head around. A red haze shimmers into existence around him and he's suddenly not where he was a moment ago. He crosses the clearing in an instant, seeking to grab whoever this newcomer is by the throat and put a stop to whatever they have planned. ]

(OOC: Chuuya is powerful and incoherently angry, but he can be talked down, or the food effect can wear off with convenient timing! DM me if you want to hash out a specific end result.)

( c. day in the life )
[ Chuuya may have experience running the black market jewelry trade for the Port Mafia, but being an actual jeweler isn't really in his wheelhouse. Yet here he is, running a little shop in downtown Ashbrook, the sign proudly declaring it an independently owned jewelry store offering handcrafted pieces.

Sure, why not?

The business isn't actually that hard to run, at least. The experience Chuuya does have makes it easy for him to do things like balance books, place orders, and get a feel for what pieces will and won't sell at certain price points.

The thing he's not doing so hot with, though, is customer service. He knows how to be charming when he wants, but he's irritated enough by the general situation he's found himself in that his advice to customers isn't always delicately worded.

For example... ]

I hope that's not for you, cause it'll look awful with your skin's undertones.

( a. object terror )

[feralwhm]

[It’s a strange place she has wound up in and it wasn’t for lack of trying that Miel hadn’t found her way back home. Yet like most who had come before her, she had found that was going to be no easy task. There was so much happening at home but for the time being there was only so much she could do.

So.

The Au’ra would let herself do what she could, and enjoy what she can.

Such as this haunted house. She had never been to anything like this before, only vaguely heard of it and it was hard not to get caught up in the charm, especially not with such a reactive companion. Despite everything that had been recently happened she couldn’t help but laugh as well and tease in turn and she found herself a little disappointed when it was all over.

She was stretching her arms high above her when Chuuya suddenly cut himself off. She twisted at the waist to look back at him, arching an eyebrow. She’s about to ask what is wrong when she hears that oh, so faint whisper on the wind.]

...well. They certainly are going above and beyond.

[Yet as she says it there is obvious uncertainty in her voice. She draws closer to him, trying to get a closer look at the object. Was it enchanted? Maybe but given how simple the rest of the house had been with it scares something about this seems off and while she keeps her smile her tail has stilled and tensed behind her.]

Perihelion / 'ART' | The Murderbot Diaries

[nearthesun]

Object: Error

[Amidst the spooky bits and bobs-- a jack-o-lantern crocheted from yarn and stuffed with plastic beads to give it some weight, a garland of brightly colored leaves and berries, husks of corn in brilliant reds and purples sold as decoration, was...

A stuffed cat.

It was obviously a toy. It's body was made from soft, black faux fur and stuffed with polyester filling to a huggable softness, but it's eyes had an... uncanny quality. It was as if it gazed back upon the onlooker with a quality of consciousness-- but a blink was all it took for the illusion to break.

Regardless. It was a stuffed cat, and it was the perfect addition to anyone's home.

...Or. Was it?]

In The Woods...

[Somewhere amidst the thick wilderness was a vessel.

It was a massive piece. Too large to be a mere boat or car, with a silhouette that seemed like it belonged on a rerun of Star Trek. It's silvery hull stood out amidst the autumn foliage, breaking the picturesque scene with it's sharp, unforgiving lines and it's almost glossy exterior.

Curious wanderers would notice that a door in the hull was ajar, hanging at an odd angle-- and with the bloody signs of a recent battle painted on the crisp metallic flooring and walls. Stenciled on the hull, in vibrant blue, was a curious turn of words:

"Perihelion. Pansystem University of Mihira and New Tideland."

It is accessible to approach.

Do you?]

in the woods

[refrosting]

[ Well, this isn't ominous in the slightest.

Simon circles what is very, very obviously a spaceship twice, examining it from a variety of angles, before he concludes that there's nothing he's going to get out of procrastination. With a heavy sigh, he stoops to pick up the most likely looking stick in his immediate vicinity, then gives it a few swoops through the air.

It feels absolutely pathetic. He sighs again, shoulders drooping. ]

Some adventurer you make.

[ He pulls his shoulders back and steels himself, or at least...irons himself? No. Bronzes himself, at best. He marches over to the hanging door before he can talk himself out of it and peers into the gloom, reaching to the pack on his back to retrieve a clipped on flashlight. ]

I'm coming in. [ He announces, flicking on the flashlight. ] If you're going to - to goop me, or shoot lasers at me - please don't. I'm already having a very cruddy day.

Simon Petrikov | Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

[refrosting]

1. object terror
[ cw: haunted object, possession (mild) ]

[ On the second floor of Miss Fortune's Mystery Manor, a man is talking to a hat.

The man is of an age some might call 'distinguished' and others might call 'old as heck', descriptors which also apply to the hat, a weathered but still dapper black fedora. It's a hat that would go nicely with his black vest and red bowtie, as a matter of fact, which would make it easy to mistake for his hat that he's hung up on a wall hook for conversational purposes. ]

- and you stay here this time. [ The man says, quite firmly, as you step into the room. ] I have enough headgear related headaches as it is, buster. The last thing I need is - oh!

[ He turns at the sound of footsteps and folds his hands behind his back, looking sheepish. ]

Well. Hello there. Enjoying the exhibits?

2. putting the 'fun' in fundraiser
[ cw: memory loss, delusions, aggression, paranoia ]

a. maple syrup
[ There's a man pacing in a small downtown park in the twilight hours, just after the sun has dipped below the horizon. He looks supremely agitated as he goes back and forth beneath a tree, occasionally pausing to smack himself lightly on the side of his head and then readjust his dislodged glasses before he takes up walking again.

As soon as he notices anyone else in the immediate vicinity, he pivots and beelines towards them, a grim expression on his otherwise unremarkable face. ]

You. [ He says, raising a finger in accusation. ] My memories. What did you do with them?

b. spice mix
[ In a remote corner of the Ashbrook Public Library, a man is curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair with messy hair and a stricken expression. He's staring very hard at a pile of books on a nearby table, which appear to be shuffling themselves around slowly under his gaze. ]

No, no, no - stop that immediately. [ He whisper-shouts, burying his hands in his hair. ] Stay still! Halt! Cease and desist! Arresto momentumo! Cut it out!

[ The books keep shuffling. Simon squeezes his eyes shut. ]

3. fire burn and cauldron bubble
[ cw: none ]

[ Simon has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he flips through the book he holds in his hands, frowning vaguely at the content he's skimming. He's also muttering to himself a bit, although how aware he is that his inner monologue has become an outer monologue is ambiguous. ]

I don't understand why she can't just answer a few questions...why can't anyone who practices magic ever lay it out in plain language?

[ Alas, this doesn't provoke the book to serve up its contents any more clearly. Simon sighs heavily and approaches one of the other unpaired participants. ]

Hello. My name is Simon. You should know that magic is an oiled up Slip N Slide to certain misery, not least of which is that it usually leads to hanging out with a bunch of lousy, uncooperative wizards, and for your own sake I advise you in the strongest possible terms to give it up before you face dire and annoying consequences from meddling in the very fabric of the universe!

And if you're not going to listen to me, let's get started. Where do you want to begin?

4. a day in the life
[ cw: alcohol ]

[ "Simon!" The staff and clientele at The Dogwood chorus when a miserable looking older man sporting a crooked bowtie steps through the front door. He stops stock still for a moment, blinking, and then pinches the bridge of his nose. ]

Oh, good grief. [ He murmurs, exhaustedly. ] Really?

[ This doesn't deter him from slipping onto a barstool and slumping over the counter.

"The usual, Simon?" Johnny asks, more friendly than he is with most, although Simon doesn't know the difference. ]

Yes, thank you.

[ Johnny sets about making 'the usual', whatever that's going to turn out to be. Simon slumps further, in a twisting sideways sort of direction, and looks at the person seated next to him with a distinct air of hapless long suffering. ]

Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to have seen a young woman with a cat anywhere around here? Blonde, wearing a white hat with little ears - the young woman, not the cat. The cat is cream with orange spots. And very flexible, even for a cat. I seem to have lost track of them, and it's very important I find them again.

5. spoiler notes
[ Given the newness of the series I will refrain from spoilers beyond the basic premise of the show: Simon ended the original series as himself and he's currently on a multiversal adventure with Fionna and Cake. ]

3. fire burn and cauldron bubble

[feralwhm]

[Miel's eyebrows shot up in complete surprise at hearing what she could only describe as a very....passionate opinion on magic. Just what had happened to make this man speak so of it? And then just--proceed to want to continue learning? It was baffling to say the least but she snapped her mouth shut and gave a nod.]

Well met, Simon. Mine name is Miel. [She looks down at the book in her hand, gliding her fingers across the cover before opening it up to take a look at some of the introductory information.]

How about incantations?

[Her eyes flickered back up to him and she couldn't help her curiosity]

Bad history with magic?

Sigma | Bungou Stray Dogs

[ordiinary]

[ ooc: warning for potential spoilers for bungo stray dogs all the way up to the last episode of season 5! ]

’FUN’DRAISER: APPLE CIDER.

[ Sigma smiles. There’s confidence in the way he holds himself, and he seems to be entirely at ease as he sips at his apple cider - but underneath that composed appearance of his, there’s something like paranoia brewing inside him.

He doesn’t know why. What it is that’s making him so anxious is a mystery to him, and so he chooses to simply pack those feelings away in a box and ignore them. There’s no reason for him to be discontent. This is his home, and he’s enjoying a nice drink with company, so why should he worry?

And speaking of company… ]

I haven’t seen you around here before. These drinks are pretty great, aren’t they?

[ The sense that something’s wrong still bubbles in his gut, but he’s determined to push it aside. It’s fine. He’s home. ]

I have to say, I’d definitely recommend the cider.

FIRE BURN AND CAULDRON BUBBLE.

[ Sigma can't help but feel nervous as he approaches the “Witch’s Retreat” for the first time – and the lack of any suitable offerings in his possession isn't the only reason. Rumors are just rumors, after all – but everything about Ashbrook is suspicious, and this so-called witchcraft isn’t any less so just because it could be useful.

But… something brought him here anyway. …He knows how it goes. No-one in this world is willing to offer something without a price – every person has one, and he’s sure that being in debt to a someone known as a witch can’t result in anything good. But the promise of protection was too much of a lure to resist. If he’s going to be in danger anyway, he wants to grasp onto anything that can help him survive – so that he’ll never be manipulated again.

He was half afraid that he might be making a deal with the devil – learning witchcraft isn’t going to allow himself to be possessed or anything, right? But… when he thinks back to the way his memories were manipulated not too long ago, he realizes that if anyone really wants to control him – they won’t need his permission. That in itself is an extremely unsettling thought, one that makes him want to grit his teeth and scream with frustration if he thinks about it for too long.

But if that’s the case, this might be a risk he needs to take… is what he’d told himself. He’d second-guessed himself all the way here, and now, he’s been unexpectedly stuck with a partner; desperately trying to pretend that he’s not been having second thoughts for the last few hours.

The protection spell will come later. For now, Sigma’s trying to see if he can find this… spirituality inside himself, whatever that might mean. It’s not like he has trouble believing it’s possible, but he really doesn’t know what exactly he’s supposed to be doing… ]

Are you having any luck? I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to be feeling…

A DAY IN THE LIFE! [ content warning: unreality. ]

[ It’s the strangest thing. Sigma is used to having new information and knowledge flood his brain – his ability has made that a normal experience for him. So maybe when he wakes up knowing exactly what it entails to be a waiter at a restaurant, it’s not as jarring for him as it might be for other people.

Even so, it’s unnerving. He can’t help but doubt his sense of reality – finding himself questioning whether or not he really could be the person the residents here think he is. He’s sure of his memories, but… should he be? If everything in his mind is subject to the whims of this place, how can he trust anything his mind is telling him? Can he be an objective witness to reality at all?

No- he has to hold on to who he is. If he doesn’t have that, then what else does he have? In spite of his inner turmoil, Sigma is ever the professional as he serves his latest customer. Surprisingly, it’s not very busy today – and Sigma finds he knows exactly how busy this venue would usually be, despite having no memories of having been before. With a warm smile, he asks- ]

Is there anything else I can do for you today?

WILDCARD.

[ Feel free to throw anything at Sigma here! I’m available to plot over at Rivenix @ plurk (or you can message this journal if preferred!) ]

if the fire burns that does mean you're doing it right (kinda wildcard)

[uragiri]

[ Dazai is here to try magic again. It didn't work last time, but it was an outlet for some degree of entertainment, so he's back again. Maybe he can teach someone else about mentos and diet coke. Except instead, he finds a familiar face--

And he immediately slithers over, all noodle limbs clad in a seasonally appropriate turtleneck (it has little pumpkins embroidered all over it!), and drops himself next to Sigma. ]

Well, it doesn't work for me, so I'm afraid I don't know what it will feel like. [ A beat, and then -- ] Like using your Ability, but if it was malleable and more useful for mundane tasks, maybe!

[ Why can't he just say hello like a normal person...? ]

miel kha | final fantasy xiv

[feralwhm]

((ooc; might contain spoilers up to early shadowbringers but can avoid if you ask! currently working through EW myself but she will be coming from that canon point))

❁Object Terror❁

[Miel had only realized she had the stamp on her person after returning ‘home’. It was innocuous enough that she hadn’t really thought much of it–simply twirled it around in her fingers, tested it out once or twice, then promptly forgotten it when she went to sleep.

The dreams came–a surprise for someone who hadn’t dreamed in years–and it brought with her a feeling of unease. Miel tried to tell herself that the messages written on the letters were just a dream but in her short time here and with the magics that existed back home it was difficult to just write it off.

That was what had her returning to the Haunted House, lips curled in an unfitting bright smile. She pauses as she sees another figure–she thinks she might have seen them before–and approaches them as they stare at the ‘spooky’ attraction.]

Have you been inside yet?

[She asks it mildly, trying first to figure out if they had been through it already and see if maybe they had been facing similar strange dreams.]

❁Putting the 'Fun' in Fundraiser❁

[When Miel comes to she’s passed out on the ground next to a park bench. With a groan she rolls over to try and lie on her back only to have one of her horns bang painfully against the ground. She hisses and pushes herself up to a sitting position, rubbing against the injured horn. When she finally manages to open her eyes she stills and looks around her, a confused and terse grin on her lips. These surroundings do not ring a bell.

She watches as a couple familiar faces look her way but when their eyes meet the majority of them immediately look away and quicken their footsteps.]

Where in the hells?

[aria_ardeinae]

[ Reyson is pleased to see someone else who stands out around here. She's not like the laguz he's familiar with - the horns, the scales - so he doesn't bother asking about news from home. He'd just be disappointed. There's a more immediate subject at hand, anyway. ]

I haven't. Are the ghosts real?

[ He's asking this in a grimly concerned tone. He's not going to go wandering blindly in this time! He has reason to believe this place will be trouble. But what's he going to do, not go heedlessly into it? What if it is important? ]

Xerxes Break | Pandora Hearts

[payingfordeliverance]

Beware of Hitchhiking Ghosts

[It has long been a fact of Break's life that tiny princesses want to attach themselves to his person immediately and forever. Probably it's the lingering knight germs. So it's no surprise that the object that followed him home from the haunted house is a child's princess tiara, appropriately bedazzled with gaudy pink rhinestone stars. It's been screaming at him to play with it ever since in an increasingly deep and eldritch voice, so by gum, he's gonna play with the damn thing.

At present he is setting up a tea party in the local park. The blanket is a beach towel with Lisa Frank unicorns on it, because that's the sort of thing the Ashbrook Break had in his home. He's acquired some proper teacups from the local thrift store, many of them chipped, and a plastic teapot with Cinderella on it. For snacks, we have Dunkaroos and Fun Dip, which he is arranging artistically on a plate that has the animated Batman on it, also from his belongings at home.]

But of course you'll join us, won't you? [This is directed at whoever strays close enough to investigate what the hell the once and future Mad Hatter is up to.] You'll have to imagine the tea, I'm afraid, but it's not so difficult to believe in the impossible once you've had a bit of practice at it. I've believed in as many as six impossible things before breakfast a few times.

[This is not the weirdest thing this man has ever done in public and probably will not be the weirdest thing of all. The tiara, currently perched upon Break's fluffy white head, is terribly pleased with all this. It giggles at his antics, as tiny princesses will.]


And I'll Cry if I Want To

[Fundraiser, sure, sure, whatever. Break leaves the little shop with maple syrup in his bag to cause problems later, and a hot apple cider for the road. It does not take much to convince him to try food in this place, in the hopes that it won't be full of chemicals and "corn syrup" and whatever else. But he doesn't make it far down the street before he stops dead in his tracks, having just caught the date on a flashing bank sign.]

...oh. It's my birthday, today.

[He says it to the apple cider in a small voice, a great deal of nostalgia having just hit him all at once. Xerxes Break, Mad Hatter and servant of the noble Rainsworth household, comes from a world with a different calendar than this one and has not really been bothering to try to match them up. Kevin Regnard of Ashbrook, however, sees that it is September 30th, and he has officially reached the big four-oh.

All alone.]

I'd forgotten...

the ghost hosts with the most

[aria_ardeinae]

Very well. As you have proved your strength over me in honorable battle, I will follow your requests - within reason.

[ Secretly, Reyson is honestly kind of thrilled over the novelty! Of participating in traditional laguz power structures! It is very manly to do this, which neatly eclipses the rest of it as far as he is concerned. This... eccentric person... respected him enough to fight him, he will respect his traditions. He sits down on the blanket, very elegantly, full princely etiquette out of its sheath and ready to strike. ]

Shall I pour?

[ The only way through this encounter with his dignity intact is to meet it directly, with courage and an unwavering heart.

And hey, that black eye (or whatever handwaved consequence of the mall parking lot Break inflicted, dealer's choice) has healed up nicely. Good for him! ]

lottie matthews | yellowjackets

[protomartyr]

i: a day in the life
cw: ptsd, vomiting

[ Lottie Matthews falls asleep, and she doesn't wake up.

At least, that's what she assumes, for a long while, has happened. What else could it be? She's in a completely different forest, in a completely different season. The cabin is gone. The wilderness has wrapped her in a blanket of its own, and taken her elsewhere.

After spending a few days in the woods outside town, however, Lottie is forced to conclude that this experience is too long, vivid, and uncomfortable to be a dream - even if her dreams are often some degree of vivid and uncomfortable. So she picks herself up, walks back into town, and learns that Charlotte Matthews has been missing for seventy-two hours. Exactly the amount of time she's spent in the woods.

You've missed school, they tell her. Can you go back tomorrow? Lottie doesn't know how to say no. She's good at saying many things, but not that.

The next school day passes by in a haze. Lottie sits at the back of the classroom - not in her assigned seat - and does not say anything to anyone. She makes quite a sight, with her puffy, badly bruised face, and split and bloodied lip. But it's all going fine, or at least, as well as these things can go.

Charlotte, the teacher reminds her. It's time for soccer practice.

Lottie walks out onto the field. She smells the freshly-cut grass, and feels the warm sun on her skin. She hears, distantly, the idle chatter of the team.

She tastes meat.

And then she's on her hands and knees, tasting bile. Lottie heaves, and digs her hands into the dirt, and the onlookers are probably realizing she isn't participating in soccer practice today. ]

ii: fire burn and cauldron bubble
cw: blood

[ Much like her general habits in regular school, Lottie hangs back in the crowd during the Witch's Retreat. Unlike school, however, Lottie pays attention. Her pupils are wide, and her jaw is nearly clenched. She's focused, and taking this seriously, regardless of whether or not this excursion was advertised on a fun little poster.

Still, she remains silent until she's paired with a partner. Once the Witch partners her up and leaves to go work with someone else, Lottie reaches into her jacket. She pulls out a long, severe hunting knife. The hilt fits her palm comfortably, and Lottie grips it like she's used one of these before.

Lottie presses the sharp edge of the knife into her palm until it bleeds. Then she makes a fist with that hand, squeezing out every last drop.

Since she doesn't want to be rude to her partner, Lottie offers the knife to you. ]

iii: putting the 'fun' in fundraiser
cw: memory loss

[ Lottie doesn't usually stop and chat with people on her way between school and home. This place still feels... artificial, somehow, even though Lottie logically knows that she feels that way only because she's grown accustomed to the wilderness.

But a little glass of cider couldn't hurt, right?

A few minutes later, Charlotte has forgotten all about her desire to get home as quickly as possible. She's supposed to meet up with someone, actually! To study. But Charlotte can't remember where that was, exactly. The nice thing about small towns is that someone here will be able to help. Charlotte is sure of it.

She can't exactly remember why her face is all bruised up, or why it hurts to walk too fast or breathe too deeply - one too many rough soccer practices, maybe? That doesn't deter her from approaching you, though, wearing a pleasant and polite smile. ]

Hi - have you seen Laura Lee? I can't remember if she has piano practice today or not. We were supposed to meet up to study.

iv: wildcard
[ ooc: feel free to drop your own starter here, or pm this journal for plotting! ]

ii

[refrosting]

[ Simon is nose deep in the spellbook when he's paired up with the young girl, who he gives a distracted nod of acknowledgment after being shuffled about. He's stuck on trying to interpret an ambiguous passage, and he appreciates her giving him time to work through it before he starts talking.

Or that's what he thinks she's doing. The intrusion of the knife into his periphal vision is startling, but not nearly as startling as what it's coated in, and what she's done to her hand - ]

What - oh, no, no, that's no good, that's no good at all -

[ He all but snatches the knife away from her as he snaps the book closed in one hand. Both are unceremoniously dropped as he steps closer, holding his hand out to her with stark worry in his eyes. ]

Let me see?

vash the stampede | trigun stampede

[rootlessly]

❀ i. woods arrival ❀

[He wakes with a start, coughing and spluttering on reflex to clear his lungs of liquid, and for a moment, he thinks perhaps he has been rescued. That Wolfwood came back for him, or perhaps Luida or Brad, or someone else from the ship. But there is entirely too much greenery everywhere, far more than could possibly be supported even beneath that dome Luida had set up.

He finds himself wandering around like a man in a trance. The wind rustles through the branches, birds coming to rest gently upon them as they twitter in song, and leaves flutter into his hair. At one point he accidentally trips into a bramble patch and scratches up his cheek. He's desperately lost, but he's too entranced by his surroundings to really worry about it much.

Should someone approach him at some point, either a fellow new Visitor or one that's since gotten their bearings, they might find him gently brushing a thumb against a leaf as though it is made of glass.]

What is this place?

[It's almost whispered, with a sort of reverence usually reserved for grand waterfalls or mountaintops.]

It's so beautiful here.

❀ ii. who you gonna call ❀

[There's no dearth of superstitions in No Man's Land; Rolo's town, which believed in Children of Blessing to make the wind blow and power their windmills. Some sects have taken to worshipping Plants. Ghosts, specifically, are not as common of a notion, but the concept exists, and Vash had watched enough movies with Rem to have a general idea what he's in for here.

(Nevermind that he may or may not have covered his eyes at the scary parts back then and had to sleep with the lights on thereafter, that's not important)

But some little kids at the daycare he apparently "works" at had wanted to go, and he's not about to deny them anything, regardless of how strange and unsettling this whole situation is. So he marches on confidently into the haunted house with a couple of little kids at his side, and announces:]

Excuse me, ghosts! Please leave us alone while we explore!

[If this wasn't embarrassing enough, moments following this proclamation, something makes a loud creaaaaaaaaak and Vash jumps nearly a foot in the air.]

W-w-w-what was that???

❀ iii. an apple a day ❀

[As the days go on, Vash does find himself with a certain sense of obligation to these people, even if it's not his planet, not the humans Rem had given her life to save. The idea that this is the Earth she and her fellows had left behind all those centuries ago is impossible, and yet he finds himself wondering about it. He'd like to keep this community safe too, he thinks.

So when he hears about the fundraiser, he volunteers to help out, even buys a cider to show support. It's surprisingly delicious, and he doesn't even notice as the thoughts of No Man's Land, of Nai and Rem and Plants slide out of his mind and he goes from a hundred and fifty to twenty-two.

A twenty-two year old who is late to their evening class at the university, in fact. He dashes out from the shop and attempts to flag down anyone passing in a car or motorcycle or such, waving both arms -- including the very shiny and 90s inappropriate prosthetic wildly in the air.]

Hello! Sorry to bother you, but could you give me a ride across town?? I'll owe you big time!

iii

[refrosting]

[ A young blond person waving frantically at traffic is enough to catch Simon's attention as it is, given who he's looking for. A young blond person with a prominent anachronistic artificial arm is enough to make Simon slam on his brakes in the middle of the street.

Which makes him feel quite foolish and look like a bit of an ass, given that he has to come off the brake to continue forward so he can pull in front of the shop. He parks to the sound of a horn rightfully being blared at him as another vehicle passes, his shoulders hunched up to his ears. He rolls both windows on his little red hatchback down, leaning out of the driver's side first. ]

I'm sorry! [ He calls after the other car. ] I'm still remembering how to drive!

[ Then he turns to the would-be hitchhiker and flashes him a grin he hopes is reassuring. ]

I'm, ah, just kidding about that. I know how to drive. And I'd be happy to drive you wherever you need to go, Fi- [ oh, no, no, Simon, you idiot ] -ne fellow. You. Fine fellow. Ha.

Mayoi Ayase | Ensemble Stars!!

[timidheart]

[A day in the life: High school Hijinks.]

[Mayoi …is a strange guy who you may have seen previously but only in the corner of your eye. He’s quiet and skittish, and seems strangely missing from class more often than not. Sometimes he appears at the cafeteria for food and then is gone again, sometimes he can be spotted in the library, and then when you look back, he’s vanished.]

[It would not be strange to write him off as a specter of the town, or something like. Asking about him gets shrugs from other students, so you’re left to wonder who this strange kid is.]

[Until the day he missteps on an asbestos riddled ceiling tile and he comes crashing though the ceiling of whatever classroom/hallway you might be in.]

[He lays there in a heap, stunned and disoriented.]

Hiiee…


[Putting the Fun in Funeral.]

[How did he get his hands on this? It was not of his own volition. Mayoi has a very delicate palette and half the ingredients on the spice mix list were things he knew would make him sick, especially the black pepper, so he can only assume that his “family” bought it and used it with breakfast. Augh, he feels so awful this must be torture.]

[Mayoi makes his way to the local pharmacy, rather than to school on this morning, mood gloomy and sour. However …the rest of the spice’s effects have begun kicking in and anyone walking near him will start to …hear his voice, even though he is definitely not speaking.]

This is so wretched, so awful, I want to diiiiiee, why did this have to happen to meeee. What if American pharmacies are too expensive, or they want my medical history, what if they figure out I’m not from this place, what if I drop dead as soon as I come through the doors, what if Tenshouin Eichi is the head of the pharmacy and he sends me to prison for having a stomach ache and not having papers, what if my family dies because-

[Seems he has a lot on his mind.]


[Object Terror: Mayoi Actually Has a Good Time]

[For such a skittish guy, you would think he would steer clear of this place.]

[You would be wrong, and Mayoi appears to not only be at ease, but he is smiling, too. He does not appear even remotely scared as he goes through the haunted house multiple times, pointing out anyone who might be with him where each trap door is and how it works.]

Fufufufu, don’t wooorry, if you stay close to me, you will be safe.

[After all, it is nice to be depended on. Hopefully he doesn’t come off too excited about all of this and appear like an apparition himself.]

This way…! My favorite part is up ahead~

a day in the life

[phototactic]

[ Yoshiki, in his position as school paper photographer, has access to the shared multipurpose room the school newspaper 'headquarters' are located in, the one attached to the tiny on-site dark room. Technically, he's supposed to only go in there for club purposes, but no one seems to mind when he spends his free periods in there studying or getting ahead on homework.

He thinks they are going to mind a huge hole in the ceiling and a probably injured fellow student. There's no conceivable way this could be Yoshiki's fault, but his first instinct is that he'll end up blamed anyway.

His second instinct, almost simultaneous with the first, is to get up and check on the whinging heap. ]

Are you okay?

[ Extremely obviously: no. But it's what you ask when someone is hurt, for whatever reason. ]

Rastaban Aesen | Original

[draconisrose]

I. Visitor Center

A.)

[A small squirrel with branch-like horns and living plants down his back wandered throughout the visitor center, looking for something. This wasn’t where he was before and the flowers on his back started to wilt with his growing anxiety. If someone approached him, he stood taller and chittered threateningly. Back off! He’s not a poor helpless creature. He’s fearsome!]

B.)

[Once the squirrel felt relatively safe, he fell asleep. A golden glow wrapped around the squirrel and rose vines grew out of the glow. The squirrel slowly faded into the branching plant of light which grew bigger and wove into the shape of a human. The glow vanished as a sleeping young man materialized from the light.
Rastaban stirred and sat up with a with a grumpy grumble.]

Where are we?

[His memory was always bit fuzzy after he transformed but everything came back to him when he met the eyes of a stranger instead of his friends. His pale green eyes flashed with the same golden light as he glared accusingly at the unfamiliar person in front of him.]

Where are my friends?

[He discreetly reached for the dagger he always kept hidden at his side.]

((OOC:If you want to play with Rastaban as squirrel first and choose option A just let me know if or when you want him to turn back.]


II. A Day in the Life

[Rastaban hated how he was instinctively drawn to his home and job. He didn’t want anything from an imposter with his face who never had to struggle with his health like he had. Still as frustrating as it was, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew nothing about this place. The locals were friendly for now so he should quietly figure out everything he could without giving them a reason to turn against him. Also, he supposed he did need money. As a former noble he had never had a job before. Being an herbalist was more like a hobby that just happened to give him money.

Being a librarian wasn’t too bad. He was surprisingly good at it, which allowed him to easily slack off and he found a quiet corner of the library to read in peace. Or so he thought. He didn’t bother to look up from his book on plants when someone interrupted him to asked him where to find something.]

You have eyes. Look for it yourself.


III. Object Terror with Rasta

[He couldn’t believe he had to recreate his twin sister persona all over again. His impostor never created a twin sister like he had to, and it would be easier to blend in without her, but his resolve broke after a few days of fake concern and pity because of the ‘dreadful cold’ he had. He needed his shield. Thankfully his imposter was trustworthy enough that most people bought his story of a sick twin sister who was treated elsewhere and only recently felt well enough to come home.

Of course, not everyone accepted it, just like last time, and the young woman with long black hair and a rose tattoo on the back of her shoulder earned a few suspicious looks. Not that anyone cared once they were inside the haunted house she was dragged into. Playing the damsel in distress was exhausting and she quickly headed home afterwards.

Rastaban only gave the new geranium inside a brass case by the front door a passing look before he pulled his long hair back and wove it back into a braid with a sigh. Rasta’s soft voice deepened as he let down his shield once he was inside the safety of his home. He was unaware that the door had opened on its own as he grumbled.]

Well at least some things are still the same in this annoying place.

[He whirled around when the front door suddenly slammed shut and opened again. He couldn’t access his magic in town so he grabbed the first thing he saw, a thick hardback book on plants that he borrowed from the library.]

Show yourself!


IV. Putting the ‘Fun’ in Fundraiser

[This place was stifling. Most of the time he couldn’t feel his magic and he felt trapped in his human body, with all its annoying vulnerabilities. Everything felt too real. The cold was the worst part, so he risked dealing with people after work to buy some apple cider.

His usual standoffish nature melted under warm memories of home. At first the happy memories were jarring after everything he had been through, but those precious days were gone, and he drank greedily, trying desperately to hold onto them. Everything faded under a soothing warmth.

Robert Aarons's eyes narrowed as he touched his wet cheek.]

Huh? Why am I crying?


V. Lost in the Woods (cw: potential for energy vampirism with player permission)

[Rasta couldn’t remember anything. There was a glimmer of something at the edge of her mind and she followed it out of town. It grew stronger as she entered the woods, along with one thought that consumed her, a desperate desire to hold onto life and her green eyes glowed with a hungry golden light as she searched for prey.]


VI. Toil and Trouble
[Rastaban was drawn to the witch’s place even without the promise of learning magic. There was more magic in the air here and it felt like he could breathe for the first time in days. His green eyes faintly glowed gold as his magic soaked in the magical energy.

He had to admit he was also curious about the magic here. Back home only the mages could use true magic without relying on crystals. He ignored the other visitors and sat down against one of the trees with his new book. The way magic here used components reminded him of how he used different plants as an herbalist. It was fascinating.
He was rudely interrupted by the witch nagging him to find a partner and his eyes faintly flashed gold with a tried glare.]

I don’t need a partner.

[To prove his point he held out his hand and shaped his energy magic into a sapling made of golden light. He channeled some of his life energy into his magic and the sapling started to grow. His eyes narrowed when the giant, majestic tree he was going for fizzled into a small rose instead.]

By the goddess I hate this place.

[The witch merely cackled. You have potential, but I’m not convinced. Without another word she grabbed his arm and shoved him towards another visitor.]

Hey!

((OOC: Feel free to plot with me on plurk Nicholaj, Discord@25thNicholaj, or PM, whichever is easiest for you.))

ledo | suisei no gargantia

[ferrytale]

① A DAY IN THE LIFE

[ during a study hall period, a teacher calls ledo over to the door, and they have a brief conversation before ledo is handed a small envelope. he looks inside and then seems to try and refuse it, but the teacher only gives him a vaguely concerned look and pats him gently on the shoulder before sending ledo back to his seat.

he turns and freezes for a moment — realising most of the other students have been watching this exchange — and then shuffles off back to his desk, where he spends the next fifteen minutes or so staring intently at the envelope on the desktop.

ledo sits rigidly with his spine straight, and his hands balled into fists pressing into his thighs. aside from the thin crease in his brow, his face is calm and expressionless. all in all, he looks way too intense for a seventeen-year-old.

when the bell rings to release everyone for the day, he doesn't head for the door but instead appears in front of your desk. that crease is still in his brow — it's worse, actually — and he looks... embarrassed? he has the little envelope clutched in both hands, only now starting to look his age with this bit of uncertainty. ]

You.

[ yes, you. ]

I require... your assistance.

② FIRE BURN AND CAULDRON BUBBLE

[ ledo manages to stumble upon a flier at some point and turns up for the magic lesson... about twenty minutes early. he's not excited, just well-trained to be prepared by taking his time to scope out the area and get his bearings.

he came here because he was seeking the promise of help, so he looks completely lost when the woman starts talking about grinding up leaves and salt and then gives them time to practice. practice what? ]

What sort of nonsense is this? Only a fool would believe trash could protect them; anyone with sense knows the only real deterrent is the threat of deadly force.

[ as usual, ledo speaks in a flat monotone that makes it sound like he's reading all of his words from a military handbook.

sorry, partner, he won't be much help right now. ]

③ PROPER PLANNING AND PREPARATION PREVENTS PISS POOR PERFORMANCE

[ ledo has served in the military his entire life, as is standard practice where he comes from, which gives a person a degree of confidence in one's own abilities.

maybe too much confidence.

he decides to investigate some of the trails just outside of town one day because he figures it will leave him at a severe disadvantage if he leaves so much of the area unexplored. this would be fine if ledo had any idea what he was doing or what any of the maps meant, but he doesn't.

ledo has never been on a trail because he has never been on a planet before. he has no reason to think you might want to dress more warmly or wear more practical shoes, nor does ledo remember that he no longer has a supportive AI around to always have his back and feed him information until it's too late.

he's lost out here, having made a wrong turn somewhere, and the sun is starting to get low in the sky. night is one of those things he's not used to either. out here in the gathering twilight, cold, alone, and hungry, some of that soldier-boy confidence begins to drain away.

he's armed, at least, and although he would prefer his usual (laser) weapon, ledo knows that's impossible. he will have to make do with the kitchen knife he's holding in a white-knuckled grip, so at least he feels a little bit in control of this situation he's gotten himself into.

as on edge as ledo is right now, sneak up on him at your own risk... ]

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble (Ledo! I apologize for my boy orz)

[draconisrose]

[Being forced to work with a partner had put Rastaban in a bad mood so he just ignored them as he focusing on grinding leaves and salt with a motar and pestle. He wasn't a witch, at least not in the way this world seemed to define it, but as an herbalist he ground herbs all the time and the familiar motion was calming. He could feel a faint magical energy in the air that felt different than his own but Ledo cut through his thoughts. His green eyes narrowed and flashed gold with a hint of anger.]

Trash?

[Magic was a divine gift back home. Granted that gift turned out to be a double edged sword but that was besides the point.]

Deadly force only works if you can intimidate your enemy. Only a fool would disregard the laws of a unfamiliar place simply because they are too stupid to understand them.

shinjiro aragaki | persona 3

[petsthedog]

i. a day in the life -- school blues

[Shinjiro thinks, as he approaches the desk in the library, that this is definitely some manner of punishment for his transgressions in life. The idea of going back to school after two years had been practically insulting, and he didn't have a second thought about ditching at first. He'd ignored the guidance counselor's deeply concerned voicemails that he was at risk of losing his scholarship, had initially even brushed off his "mom" asking if something had happened at school and her earnest pleas that he could talk to her about anything.

...It wasn't until he caught her crying when she thought he wasn't looking that the guilt truly set in. He's never known what it's like to have a parent, and at first he'd chafed against the notion--he's managed on his own all his life, after all, and nobody had any business telling him how to live now. But that's the thing, isn't it? Shinjiro Aragaki, the orphan from Iwatodai, was dead. He made his choices and there was no going back.

But as far as anyone knew, Shinjiro Aragaki of small-town Washington, honor roll high school senior on the varsity football team? He was alive, and it's not his fault he got replaced by some piece of shit punk who was never going anywhere in life even before everything went to shit. Certainly his poor single mom working two jobs just to keep a roof over their head doesn't deserve his fucking bullshit.

The trouble with deciding to actually make an effort to keep up a farce, though, is that he realizes quickly he is far out of his depth academically. He was barely passing math when he was still in school learning basic algebra, let alone any kind of advanced shit. So here he is in the library, facing the music. He turns to you, and with the deep reluctance of someone about to walk to their gallows, asks:]

...Hey. You know where to sign up for the tutors and shit?

ii. the fun in fundraiser

[Sometimes, the weather is shitty and you just want to get yourself A Little Treat. This was Shinjiro's thought process when he picked up an apple cider from that shop on the way to school, and he will certainly come to regret it.

For the moment, though? Everything is fine. Genuinely. His skin is clear, his depression is literally cured. He is handing out flyers at a booth at lunchtime, greeting classmates with a bright smile and a wave.]

'Sup, dude, how's it goin'? Hope I can count on you for the school spirit bake sale next week! I made everything myself, it'll be scary good.

[The teen convinced of the wrong set of memories winks. There are finger guns. Shinjiro will never live this down for the rest of this life or any other.]

iii. fire burn and cauldron bubble

[The first thing Shinjiro thinks, upon getting the flyer, is that he wants no part of any of that nonsense. Getting involved in SEES is among the first of many mistakes he's made in life, and there's nothing about this witchcraft business that sounds like good news. The flyers keep finding him, though, despite his best attempts to ignore them, and he ultimately decides to show up just to get it over with.

Don't do it in public if you can help it, huh. That's not suspicious at all. Certainly doesn't remind him of anything! But apparently he does not get the privilege of fucking off, this time, because he finds himself ... unable to leave the side of someone else. He lets out an indignant grunt, muttering:]

Well, this is bullshit.

i.

[ferrytale]

[ ledo is so absorbed in a book that he doesn't hear anyone approaching, looking carefully at each brightly coloured page — the book is mostly pictures.

it's only when shinjiro speaks that he realises he's not alone, so startled that he fumbles the book and ultimately drops it. instead of picking it up, he kicks it further under the desk and tries to look casual, which for ledo isn't casual at all because military bearing has been drilled into him since he was old enough to stand on his own. ]

I am not sure. You require a tutor?

[ he isn't judging, but given the flat tone he speaks in, it potentially sounds worse than he intends. ]

Misty Quigley | Yellowjackets

[wildernessbetween]

I. OUT OF THE WOODS (DAY IN THE LIFE)

[These aren't her woods. Not the ones that have been her home for half a year now. Not the ones that she trapped them all in.

There's no snow, the roots are tended to, there's the odd piece of litter, and it's not as wild as the wilderness she's lived surrounded by.

Most importantly, her friends aren't here. And if they're not here, then they're somewhere else, somewhere she has to reach, because she's invested far too much time and effort to abandon them now. So she follows the trees into where they get less dense, more controlled, more civilized, and within only a few hours (somewhere between four or six, by her count), she's staring at a town that stretches openly before her.

And she thinks that if they're nearby, she can be the one to save them. So she calls the first name that comes to mind, her voice cracked and her hair still flecked with snow and ash.]

Natalie! Where are you?! Natalie!! [She screams out, like it's a silent prayer, like she's not calling for a friend but a God or a King.]

II. OUIJA BREAK (HAUNTED HOUSE)

[Someone should have told Misty that she was supposed to bring a date or a friend to this stupid thing. It was scary, she supposes, but a lot of the time she was distracted by figuring out how to deconstruct the clues. It's mostly a lot of jumping out and loud noises, and some of them she can't deconstruct. Maybe they're actually magic, like the weird phenomena that's been happening around her.

It's a pretty half-hearted theory. Leaving the house with a grumble, Misty would later find an Ouija Board in her bag. She's at a park bench, and it's laid out on the table. If someone her age approaches, she'll offer a smile. It's an attempt to be friendly, but there's something a bit sharper in her eyes. Suspicion, mostly. She adjusts her glasses, brushes her overgrown shaggy hair out of her face, and the sharpness is gone. It's jarring enough that you might wonder if it's even there.]

Do you want to try it with me? I want to test if it's really magic. [Judging by her tone, she thinks it's a cheap toy.]

III. PARTNERS (MAGIC LESSONS)

[Misty's opinion on magic is much like a status quo democrat's opinion on politics, whatever suits her purposes in the moment. She went along with Lottie's cult and the rituals, and the tree spirits and all of that nonsense, and she can't say for sure how much is real and how much is just a lie gluing them all together. But she can't deny the irregularities necessary for her to be here.

Maybe they're in Hell. Misty probably belongs here, despite the people she's helped and the lives she's saved.

She doesn't have a partner. She doesn't really look for one, she knows that nobody's going to ask her. It's a situation she's been familiar with since she was a very young child.

And then the Spinner pairs her with someone, with a wave of her hand, and Misty feels it, the power of it. Maybe there's something to this after-all, because her heart races at the rush of this small connection. She looks at them with the overenthusiastic smile of someone who's only real experience with intimacy is assigned group projects in a class that made her do all the work.]

Hi. I'm Misty. [She holds out a hand to shake, smiling brightly.]

iii.

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro is unfortunately a terrible person to seek intimacy in, but that's likely why Spinner has forced him to partner with someone in the first place. The smile has him almost preemptively tired, but it's not like he's going to be mean to some girl about getting stuck with him in something he only showed up at because he was getting tired of the flyers in his face.]

Ara--

[Right, American. He's supposed to be American. He freezes for an instant before reaching out for her hand.]

Shinjiro.

karol capel | tales of vesperia

[captainbossman]

1. object terror
Is it really h-haunted?

[ Do you know this child? Probably not, but he is now right at your side, inexplicably drawn to this haunted house which is clearly already scaring the pants off him even though he's barely inside of the gate. ]

Because that would be, um. Really cool. If it was haunted. Ghosts don't stand a chance! I'll protect you from the ghosts!

[ He certainly doesn't look it, but he does take a step in front of you, puffing up his chest and moving with determination toward the house. Does he know it's for fun? Does he know that it's all fake? You might want to come with him just to stop him from hurting the actors.... ]

2. FUNd the fun
[ Blank eyes stare out from a street corner, a leaf shaped bottle clutched in his hands as Karol wavers where he is. Something feels wrong, so wrong, but he can't pinpoint it. He can't pinpoint anything. He's shivering--it might just be the chill in the air, but there's a soft whimper that comes out of his mouth. The townfolks walk by, and he watches them with something like abject terror.

He can tell you're different, though. He can tell you're different, but it's clear in his eyes that he doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.

If you approach him, he takes a step back from you, squaring himself up and looking you almost in the eye.

If you walk on by, you might find yourself with a shadow, trailing a half a block behind you, Karol desperately searching for some kind of grounding. ]

3. magic trouble
I'm never been very good at magic. [ Karol tells this to you, his partner, with a cheery smile ] Rita tried to teach me a couple of times, but then she just got mad at me and I didn't really learn anything. I hope that this witch is a better teacher--she likes being called that, right? Because I called Rita a witch once and she didn't like that one bit at all. But protection against intruders, that's a good thing! A really good thing.

Do you think we'll need it?

[ Tell him no. Please tell him no. He's looking at you with big, big eyes, desperate for reassurance. ]

Ed "Blackbeard" Teach | Our Flag Means Death | late s1 canonpoint

[massiveaggression]

haunted house.

[ A man has been thrown out of the haunted house. There's a fair amount of shouting. One of the scare actors— of course it's Ricky— is clutching a bloody nose, tearfully furious about it. His corny wolfman mask lies discarded in the grass.

The problem visitor, a big tatted-up guy with a guitar case slung over his shoulder, leans down to pick up the mask. He turns it over in his hands, and steps towards Ricky, real slow. The kid freezes.

But the guy just tosses the mask back to him, nodding his approval. ]

It's a compliment, mate. This is quality stuff.

[ Ricky is getting the desperate, blotchy look of a humiliated teen about to start something. Someone might want to intervene. ]

cafe.

[ The guy at the booth is not doing a very good job of blending in. He keeps craning around to stare at mundane things like the lights, the linoleum, the kitsch on the walls. At one point he takes down a polaroid and frowns over it as though trying to decode some hidden message.

A waitress comes to take his order, and he snatches up the menu with the universal haste of someone pretending to know what they're doing. ]

Oh, yeah. Yeah. I know exactly what I'd like. It'll be... mm...

[ He clears his throat, makes a noncommittal stalling sort of noise, and transparently casts about for inspiration. Save him. ]

caves.

[ The cave tours out by the lake have, astonishingly, taken a spooky turn. Whether you've been separated from the group for a minute or an hour, the candle in your hands is now your only source of light. And something, a creeping weight of dread, is in here with you.

Until you round a corner, and the only presence is a man clutching an unlit candle. He recoils with a shout. ]

Fucking Christ, man, don't jump out like that!

caves

[captainbossman]

[ Karol shouts back, recoiling against the wall with a hand thrown up over his face. His candle sputters ]

Monster! Don't eat me!

[ Except--monsters usually don't speak words. He peers out between his fingers ]

Are you going to eat me?