❪ event ❫ spirited away

[natha]

PRELUDE     I'll get straight to the point, Thesaens. Dranbu is in dire need of assistance. I have received confirmation that the disappearances we were investigating last month have... escalated. Be cautious as you make your way through Josa Forest. Ideally we could go straight through, but it seems the main entrance to Dranbu is overgrown with thorns and vines, and there's a bit of a glitch with the rail system - the train is having trouble recognizing the Dranbu station as a destination. I've uploaded a homing beacon to your devices with this message. Once enough of you have arrived in Dranbu proper, it should communicate with the train and register it as a stop. With any luck, that will make getting back and forth much easier for you all from now on. Best of luck. Entry to the forest is not only overgrown with vegetation, but seems to be growing at an increasingly alarming rate. Any attempts to clear the vines will be met with even larger ones growing in its place, and it only confirms Nurray's findings as true. The only way in is across the sound from Nadril, entering the forest from its snowy back yard. It doesn't stay cold for long; as one ventures further into the forest, the snow will disappear, as though it was completely out of place in the first place. The red sun's warmth will take its place soon after— and before long, you'll feel too warm for the clothes you came with. That's when you know you've entered the heart of Josa Forest. WITHIN THE FOREST     The forest seems to be thick with a profound presence that can’t be ascertained. While venturing through it, one will feel like there are being watched or followed. This feeling will only intensify as metallic-scented drops of rain begin to fall between the clearings in the trees. Unfortunately, what many don’t realize at this point is that this is how the forest itself eats. How it subsists and lives through the minds of those who eventually get lost in it. Wandering this far in is akin to walking into a lion’s jaw, or rather… straight to its stomach. But, the forest has a way of making one stay. While it swallows someone up, it shows them sinfully beautiful and picturesque sights. Even showing them people or things that are familiar to the lost. All of which will urge them to go in deeper and deeper. But, while the forest begins to prey on the mind of their victim— they will suddenly hear an elegant and alluring voice urging them back. This voice promises them comfort and safety. Promises to be kind and open. Promises she has a place for them where they will never feel displaced or unwanted, or lost. Before they can fully accept, they will find that they are whisked away in Barthala’s embrace. Some will be taken, wiped of all their previous memories and inserted new ones. Others will find they have no prior memories at all of themselves, only urged to go on with regular life. What is prevalent is the forest's desire to turn you. Metamorphosis is a phenomenon that occurs only to certain individuals, and there is no rhyme or reason to them. Some adventurers would find themselves changing by the minute, the hour, or the process may even take days and weeks. The forest toys with you, but it only wants to draw you closer to its core — as though there's a story there it wants you to see and understand. Will you go on anyway, knowing the forest has already has its claws on you? I. ALL ROADS LEAD TO — Exploring the forest is not a perilous experience - Barthala's blessing ensures that paths remain clear of any dangerous obstacles, and keeps anyone who enters the woods from losing their way. However, it will not always lead adventurers where they want to go. Stressed? Your path leads to a meadow, grass drifting gently in the breeze. Tired? You'll find your way to a tree with roots perfectly curved for a nap, the shade a peaceful retreat from the sunlight. The hungry will find streams full of fish or bushes laden with berries, and the curious will come upon elder trees, unique and beautiful. Only those who are truly satisfied with their circumstances, with themselves, can forge their own path, and venture to Barthala's Grotto. II. BARTHALA'S GROTTO — The deity's home is host to an abundance of life. Butterflies drift through the air, brilliantly colored and unbothered by any intruders. Foliage blooms in a rainbow of colors, many plants unique to this area alone. With trees arranged to provide a canopy over the path and small clearing, the scene is something out of a fantasy. Any plant life taken from this area will not survive long, though even in its dead, dried state, it retains a curious beauty. Explorers and creatures finding themselves in this area will suddenly find their clothing to be an unnecessary burden - what could be better than feeling the wonders of nature against bare skin? There is nothing unbecoming about such a natural state, any perverse inclinations are an aspect of personal preference. While the presence of Barthala can be felt here - a warm, comfortable sensation emanating from your core - she is nowhere to be found. Only one will have the opportunity to pass under a veil of willow branches and emerge to the cool air of a clear-as-glass spring. Another nearby grotto is home to a plant with intoxicating effects. Just smelling the leaves is enough to entice most animals, and consuming them has effects on both mind and body. More easily amused, with thoughts that weave deep and distant, along with increased sensory perception can bring the user on a pleasant trip lasting up to five hours. III. INFLUENCES — (18+) Every five days, a weed scattered in patches among the forest underbrush blooms. The flowers are small and white, unremarkable except for how clustered they grow. When their petals fall, after only hours of blossoming, pollen drifts through the air. It clings to clothing, to hair, in the throats of the sensitive animals dwelling in the forest. Even those unaltered by Barthala's magic can be affected. The locals of Dranbu claim the pollen enhances fertility, but in practice, it simply serves as a poignant aphrodisiac. Those affected won't differentiate between the warmth of another or their own, a simple need to experience sexual ecstasy overwhelmingly pervaded. The pollen loses its potency after about three hours, leaving behind only a sweet smell. YOUR NEW (NEW) LIFE    Adapting to an entirely new setting isn’t always so simple. People often say that assimilating oneself to the environment happens fluidly, and before you know it, you’re a part of it. In Dranbu, these words hold an uncanny sense of truth. When you awake, your day begins like it always has. Your daily routine meets largely unchanged, except a few tinier details. Perhaps, you’ve realized your true calling is an occupation within the villages itself. Maybe in farming up strange medical herbs, maybe in acting as a witch doctor for the people, or maybe you find yourself drawn to the arts and you really enjoy sculpting fellow villagers in the nude. Once you commit these tasks, you realize, it feels like what you’ve always done. As if it were natural, as if you’ve done them for years, and maybe you have? At least that’s what your gut is telling you, and slowly your memories will too. At the end of the day, when you return home, you realize you’re not alone. You have a partner who shares the same values and whom you love deeply. Or maybe a spouse whom you’re always arguing with. But, even that will feel as commonplace as the rest of your day. All you know is that the day that might have started off not being yours is entirely yours and yours alone. IV. THE HUNT — Those taken by the forest, animal features adorning their bodies, will find that their palates have changed as well. Carnivores crave raw meat, while herbivores don't mind snacking on a patch of grass or pulling leaves from branches. For most, there's no reason to cook a meal; once prey is captured, instinct says dig right in! It can be a gruesome sight, mangled bodies gorged upon leaving bloodstained faces, but it's natural. As is the hunt itself - any size of game can be found in the forest, and no one will go hungry for long. The magic that dwells here ensures a catch even for the clumsiest predator. Just take care not to stalk one of your own. For a hungry predator, there's no difference between a deer and a deer-like human. THE BOUNDARIES BEYOND     For some, placated is synonymous with bored. While there is a sense of wonder in the beauties of nature that adorn the woods, serene forest life isn't for everyone. Those seeking more adventure can explore the challenging slopes of Waco Mountain. Barthala's influence is weaker on those bluffs than in Josa Forest itself, so thrill chasers won't be disappointed. Lose the path, slip on loose rocks, fall into a stream and spend a night wet and cold, there are many perils that come with traveling a mountain-side. Scattered ruins offer some shelter, their walls carved with images resembling Barthala, a dragon, and three other stranger creatures. While the deity's pacification does not flow as deeply through this region, all are still save from mortal wounds, and the veil cast over their memories will not lessen. If you have made it this far, however, there is no reason to try to return to the main city of Dranbu. Accommodations are always available in the neighboring villages: Phares in the north, and Stroln in the south. These villages are in friendly competition with one another, and will tempt travelers with women and men of their kind in order to draw in business to their hotels. FINAL OOC NOTES     No REP is available for this log. REP will now be primarily available through achieving NPC quests, which will be available on the 19th! Please keep an eye out for that! Dranbu is entirely available for exploration! You may find that most of Wyver and Olympia Flora/Fauna may be found in the forest as well. For more information on your characters' (opt-in) Metamorphosis, please refer to the November Outline! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[beatupgrass]

Rocket's fur stands on end for a second in sheer indignation. "Oh c'mon, TJ. Who gave you the impression I cuddle?" Because it doesn't happen and if Dutch said anything, he'll deny it.

Except Dutch wouldn't do that, and also god the idea of curling up in the grass right there in that nice little patch of fractured sunlight beside her that's only just barely made it through the thick canopy seems so tempting. He takes a step forward like a raccoon possessed and then shakes out of it.

"I don't like this. And what I really don't like is how bad I wanna like it." This must be how cats feel when they can't decide whether they want in or out. Not that Rocket knows anything about cats. Morgana was the only one he knew.

[stargatemedic]

"If you like it and you don't want to," she tells him, rather reasonably she thinks, "then the only thing to do is see if you really do like it by sitting down and seeing if it's something you might like and trying it out."

Logic? Maybe in some form or fashion if she hadn't made it sound like a rough form of word salad. Still, she spreads her arms again and pats the spot next to her. "Besides, everyone likes to cuddle, Rocket. Even you."

She's grinning at him.

[beatupgrass]

"Wrong," Rocket says flatly. Most people who have touched him in his life have been very rough- in and out of Half-World. The only person he really felt safe enough with to do what was the bare approximation of cuddling was Groot (both versions). Still. It's happened, and he's a liar for saying he doesn't like it, because he kind of does. Underneath all of that abrasive and loud personality, there's someone craving touch that doesn't hurt. What he hates is it's not even a feral instinct- by his reasoning, feral creatures of his nature aren't big on being petted like housepets.

So it's just him. And his oppressive loneliness. And his inability to be productive about it. "You talking like that just makes me think it's a bad idea even more. You sound drugged?" But, like... In a good way. Not the kind of drugged where you're going to wake up in chains or a cage or something. The good stuff.

[stargatemedic]

"I'm not drugged, Rocket," she says with a roll of her eyes as she pulls her arms back in after one final stretch. "I'm just comfortable. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a chance to actually relax? More than two years. This place doesn't exactly thrive on comfort."

So saying, she tips her head back and takes a deep breath, feeling the stress leave her body as she does so. "Even if you don't wanna cuddle, you should find a place to just relax. It's calming." Peeking an eye open, she throws him another grin. "You could do with relaxing."

Maybe she's teasing him a little, but she likes Rocket. He's good for the world they're in and she doesn't want bad things to happen to him. "I promise not to touch, the tree is big enough for the both of us."

[beatupgrass]

She's got a point there, though Rocket doesn't make it a point to be comfortable, so he'd never know either way. Maybe that's what's got his dander up so much about this. He wants to be comfortable and relax and just take the sights and smells in like someone who is waiting for the hammer to fall at every moment, but he's too damned paranoid.

And fuck, fuck, fuck shit... Fuck. Why does it sound like such a good idea? All survival instincts scream don't fucking do it, and the louder voices cry, this is how people die of hypertension, you idiot.

His compromise is that he sits in the grass, rather than standing and hovering. Already, he feels better, which leads to him scooting a bit closer to the protective shade of the tree. "There. I'm relaxing. You happy?"

He still has his arms crossed and he looks grumpy to have been defeated by comfort, so it could be better, but ever so slowly the tension is going out of him as the sweet-smelling forest soothes him.

[stargatemedic]

Watching as he sits, then scoots, makes her happy and it shows. Why she cares if he dies of hypertension and stress and anger and huffiness, she has no idea except he's a good guy and she knows it. Seeing him give in despite all the bits of clear disdain in him and whatever paranoia tells him different just. She still has that grin on her face and, if she's not careful, her cheeks are gonna start to hurt.

"I am. I'm very happy, thank you."

It ends in a huff of laughter, even as she relaxes even more, eyes still on him. After a full minute of total silence, she finally says, "See? Nothing's happening but calm."

[beatupgrass]

"That's how it starts," Rocket supplies his retort, not immediately, but after a breath or two of silence, just to punctuate it. It always starts with nothing, and then boom. You're dead. Something crawls out of the woodwork.

It was a quiet night when he got kidnapped by Ravagers, and you know what? He... He prepped for that, actually. And it still fell apart.

He deflates visibly and flops onto his back with a heavy sigh. The sun peeks through the leafy canopy and offers little spots of warmth mingled with shadows, and it's so nice. He might have to pinch himself or else he'll fall asleep.

"You let your guard down and then you realize you're in a honey trap." He has stopped sounded convincing now. He's just bitching to be bitching and doing a poor job of convincing himself that he has any reason to be.

[stargatemedic]

With just her fingertips, she scritches between his ears and, just maybe, her tone is a little amused.

"I don't see any honey or traps so maybe we're in the clear." Her scritches slow and she sighs a little before pulling back so as to not overstay her welcome. "Besides, if anyone came into our napping tree to fight, I promise. I've got your back."

Not just for the napping tree, but in general. For now, however, the comment stuck.

[beatupgrass]

He lifts his hand to swat hers away from his ears, but somehow she finds that one spot that makes his entire body go limp and he allows it, grumbling minimal and just enough to assert the fact that she should not get used to touching those ears or making sudden moves at his head. The forest has dulled his reaction time and made him sluggish. Even if he could be arsed to bite, he probably would have missed.

"I dunno how good my shooting's gonna be right now," he mutters. "I'm starting to get a little sluggish. I think maybe the honey is a metaphor."

And yet he stretches and adjusts his body so he can curl. The benefit of having artificial hips and a spine with a complicated mess of cybernetics is he can go from bipedal to four legs with minimal effort, and that includes being able to curl up properly like a normal creature and not just have to go fetal.. if he chooses to. He usually doesn't choose to.

But it feels right in this moment.

[stargatemedic]

It really shouldn't give her such a sense of satisfaction to pet him behind the ears - he's not a pet - but it does, especially when he goes limp. Seriously, she'll never do it again given his usual sense of irritation at just about everything, but for the moment, she's gentle in her touch, ensuring that nothing bad happens.

"Rocket, I'm sure you'd still be as sharp a shot as ever," she assures him, even as he stretches. It's not placating; TJ really believes that he'd be the best to have next to her in a fight, right alongside Colonel Sheppard and only a few other people. There's not a lot of people she trusts, but this strange raccoon is one of them.

Several minutes pass before she opens her eyes again and she tips her head back to look and see if anyone else is still passing. "I don't know how much time has gone by, so keep an eye on that, okay?"

[beatupgrass]

"What?" Rocket says with his tail practically covering his face. His dulled reaction time kicks in a moment later than it should have and he goes from curled to on his feet like a cat seeing a cucumber. "Shit. Has it been an hour or five minutes. I can't tell anymore."

He looks up at the sky. The sun is still in the same place it was. His patch of sunlight hasn't shifted and yet he feels immediately apprehensive of the idea that time could be moving while he just lies here and becomes one with the fucking ground.... and then not. Zen comes rushing back to soothe him.

He slinks back down into a seated position and rubs at his face. "I really should've taken Di up on crossing straight over this place. But noooo had to check in on things, didn't you, Rocket?"

[stargatemedic]

It's impressive, the speed with which he moves when he decides he wants to get up and TJ raises both eyebrows to watch.

"You know, I was just saying to keep an eye on the time. Not that it's been passing unusually, just. You might wanna set an alarm in case you fall asleep." She doesn't want to laugh at him, and doesn't, but she quirks a smile in his general direction as he sits back down. "I've been here a couple of hours, I can tell."

She thinks she can tell. It hasn't been days, but she's starting to get hungry and that'd be a good indicator, right?

"Who's Di?"

[beatupgrass]

"Yeah, set an alarm with that watch I ain't wearin'." He doesn't even have a timekeeping device on him. Sort of pointless when different galaxies and planets measure time differently and you hop from one to the other. You would think after a year he'd get a watch of some kind, but he's stubborn.

And too stubborn to go back to napping, apparently, now that he's scared himself out of it. Zen is one thing, but you have to be careful with that. Can you be chilled out and wary at the same time? ...Maybe that would explain the headache he's getting.

"Cavendish. The broad who travels by broom, apparently. I bet she's sittin' pretty drinkin' tea on the other side of the d'ast forest laughin' at all the idiots who wanted to cross on their own."

[stargatemedic]

"I haven't met anyone who travels by broom," TJ confesses, watching Rocket be both wary and chilled - which is interesting. It's like he's being both skittish and his normal grumpy self and also being quite still, a contradiction that she's not seen before. She'd be amused, but she doesn't think he'd find it funny...

... until he mentions the fact that this Di Cavendish is likely laughing and then she cracks a smile and huffs a laugh. "You're not an idiot, Rocket. Nothing's happened to you and nothing's going to happen to you. Just relax."

Probably easier said than done, but she's going to keep trying.

[beatupgrass]

"It's a real dumbass way to travel, but at least she can pilot the thing." He considers, for a moment, reaching into his pockets and producing one of his aerorigs to travel over the forest the same way she did, but he doesn't feel like he can trust himself right now. Before he arrived, certainly, but now? Now is a bad time for fight.

His muttering about Diana ceases, and he stops investigating his pockets so he can look at her with an irritated expression and an annoyed flick of his ears. "Hey, hey! I haven't survived this long without being aware that anything could happen to me at any moment."

And yet the forest offers nothing to cement this belief. He's treated to silence and wonder and serenity that tries to crawl under his skin and live there. Who would have thought that feeling serene would feel like an incurable rash. He deflates. "Okay, fuck it. This is exhausting. I'm taking a nap. If we die here, you only have yourself to blame for not listening to me."