nysalogs | ❪ event ❫ spirited away

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❪ event ❫ spirited away

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!

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[ the pet name is answered with a playful swat at his backside as he turns to leave and she keeps watch over the fire and meat while he goes to find some wine.

the announcement he makes when he comes back is a surprise. ] Suit yourself. [ but - ] Did something happen today?

[ there's a frown tugging at her brows now. ]

No... [ but he doesn't sound so sure. he never talked about work with maria so it doesn't come naturally to him. but there's something that's been bothering him. ] Have you seen any strange animals out there?

Not really.

[ but there's a memory tugging at her mind now, too - ] There were more wolves than usual.

[ he's not sure he even wants to know how she quantifies that, unbuttoning his sheriff's shirt and unstrapping his gun to keep following what feels like his normal routine. ]

I've been capturing wild animals on the trails. They all seem... rabid or something.

[ or something. it unsettles him and the feeling sinks into his guts even as he drapes the overshirt onto the couch along with his holster and moves to sit on the animal skin while he waits for her to finish getting dinner ready. ]

Didn't get bitten, did you?

[ he's her husband. of course she cares -- she does, doesn't she? of course. ]

[ there's a weird halt in her voice, and honestly he's having trouble recalling a time when she was worried about him like this. another woman - blonde hair, light eyes - again pervades his memories, but he doesn't know a woman who looks like that. he must be confused. or just tired. ]

...Do we have coffee?

[ he asks, watching her drink the wine and growing exponentially thirstier the longer he does. is it bad for him? maybe he's allergic. wait - she asked him a question. frank frowns as he tries to mentally double back. ]

Sorry. I think I'm just... Today took a lot out of me.

[ dutch takes another sip of wine and pokes at the meat to see if it's done yet. it isn't, but it will be soon, she figures. then they can eat and he can have coffee and whatever strange things are going on in the woods will be a problem for tomorrow, not tonight. ]

Yeah, we can brew some.

[ she moves to stand, getting the coffee, preparing it —and then, while that's heating up by the fire, she turns to him to set a hand against his forehead. to slide both of his arms around his neck while she's there. ]

Need me to kiss it better? [ it's teasing, but there's a softness that says she cares, that she wants him to feel better. (this time, dutch doesn't question it.) ]

Thanks.

[ soft. almost impossibly so. she's always so understanding, sometimes he thinks... it can't be real, what they have. but that's crazy, she's right here. when she comes over to him, he draws in a sharp breath, not having expected the move though he should have. frank is so bone-tired that the best he can do is tip his head up into her touch, one firm hand palming her hip for balance. ]

Only if it's not too much trouble.

Kissing you? [ for a moment, her grin isn't sweet so much as it is amused, almost mocking, but warmly so. ] Never.

[ and so she moves onto tiptoes and does just that, fitting her lips over his. in contrast to the kiss hello, this kiss lingers and lasts, for all that it's still relatively chaste. ]

[ his heart stutters in his chest, holding her tighter as she leans in. he closes his eyes and brushes his lips back against hers, pressing and holding for as long as she deems to stay. he hears his own voice like an echo in his mind: "I'm not what you're looking for." again, there's a flash of blonde hair, a tall woman this time, but it doesn't make any sense. when the kiss breaks he looks worse off than before, but tries to cover it by tipping his forehead against hers, his other hand fisting in her clothes to effectively cling to her. ]

I think maybe I'm sick.

[ what else could explain all these pictures and words? none of them line up with anything that's ever happened to him. explosions, soldiers yelling in the desert. then explosions in a city, fire in the shape of a skull as a man screams. a shudder moves through him, his head dropping heavily to her shoulder. the only thing he feels secure in right now is this: his marriage to dutch. it's the only thing he trusts. ]

Maybe you should go to bed.

[ instead of having coffee. she can bring him dinner, because she's a fantastic wife, thank you very much. but despite the suggestion, dutch makes no move to let go of him, doesn't shift away. instead, she shifts her weight a little, distributing it more evenly between her feet so that she can take more of his weight, wrapping her arms firmly around him.

this isn't normal. the shuddering, the way he's behaving —none of it.

(she has her own flashes of memories, the words little bird echoing in her skull, but they're distant and she's good at pushing them away, at ignoring them.) ]

[ if he goes to bed, he'll wake up. he can't shake that thought even though it makes no sense. he's thinking about the things in the forest, pitiable but shockingly violent creatures. and all the people missing... but who are they? he knows it, he knows the answer, he just can't reach down deep enough to touch it. ]

Not without you.

[ it's insistent, knowing he has to let go soon so they can eat, but he just needs another moment to breathe her in. ]

I'm fine. [ he says softly, beginning the painstaking task of disengaging from her. ] Let's eat.

Yeah, okay.

[ she doesn't really want to let go. she doesn't really want him to go to bed without her, either. if they let go, who knows what'll happen? —and she's worried for him, even though he says he's fine. he's clearly not.

she doesn't want to let go, but she does. not entirely: she finds his hand with one of hers, intertwining their fingers. ]

[ he squeezes her fingers in his and sighs, moving to sit on the bearskin and expecting her to do the same. he doesn't care if it's impractical, he'll eat one-handed if it means he gets to stay close to her. ]

Thank you. For dinner. [ impossibly soft. but she didn't have to have dinner waiting for him no matter what he's going through. he appreciates the effort as always and isn't shy about showing his gratitude. ]

[ she moves with him, either in sync or simply very good at reading his movements and reacting accordingly, sinking onto the bearskin together with him, leaning into his side. ]

Of course.

[ equally soft. and then, even softer: ] I love you.

[ she'll hate herself for saying that, later. ]

[ something twinges in his chest, a scar dislodged and rebroken. he's speechless for seconds, turning his head to kiss her brow gently. ]

I know. [ ok han solo. but then when he's able to find his voice again: ] I love you, too.

[ she tips her head back, straining to brush a kiss against his lips after those words. then the softness turns into a grin, not gone but tempered into something more palatable. ]

Food?

[ he nods numbly, too tired to feel actively hungry and he might not get through much, but he knows he has to try. ]

Does that mean I have to let go now?

[ he holds up their hands and makes a show of slowly breaking the lattice of their fingers, like it's physically hurting him, before dropping his hand and leaning back on the fur to facilitate her in bringing their dinner over (by getting out of her way.) ]

Yeah, 'fraid so.

[ but even after he lets go, she doesn't go very far, pulling the meat from the fire and cutting slices off it with a knife (where did that knife come from? better not to ask), sliding them onto plates she's set out earlier. there's some kind of potato-esque root vegetable to go with the meat, and the whole thing takes less than five minutes before she sets two plates down and sits back cross-legged, leaning into his side. ]

[ he leans back against her and picks up his fork, having a bite followed by a low hum of appreciation. it's as simple as it is good and he forces a few more bites before most of his energy is sapped, and he's leaning on her more heavily as he tries to convince his hand to lift to take another bite. frank shuts his eyes for a few seconds to try and reset himself, not even realizing he's practically falling asleep against her shoulder. ]

[ dutch lets him rest there, against her shoulder, for a little while longer while she eats some more, while she empties her glass of wine —but son enough she's nudging him. ]

C'mon. Let's go to bed.

Huh? [ he makes a noise in protest as she rouses him, noticing his half eaten meal in his lap before anything else. oops... ] Sorry.

[ he didn't mean to fall asleep or waste the meal she'd made him, but he does feel like he could sleep for a year. he needs her help to move everything aside and to get up to head to their bedroom. frank is clinging to her as she walks like she might disappear any minute, both arms wrapped around her middle and head tucked in against her throat. ]

You're the best. [ he murmurs, but it's obviously sincere. ]

Damn right I am.

[ but the words are soft and her fingers are carding through his hair, gentle. sweet. ]

[ he snorts fondly, though it quickly melts into a sigh as her fingers rub against his scalp. it's like torture when he has to pull away from her long enough to undress the rest of the way and fall into bed. and he literally falls, like a rotted oak tree, hitting the bed with some force without noticing. one arm curls around a pillow, tucking it under his chin so he can watch her without craning his neck. ]

You're gorgeous.

I know.

[ she gets undressed, too, and then she slides into bed with him, far more graceful than his descend into the pillows. the confidence is easy, without the need to prove anything.

her fingers find his hair again. ]

Go to sleep, big guy.

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