❪ 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

[emori]

[Emori nodded, understanding now juju. She dropped her shirt, emptying the berries to the ground. Emori leans towards Richie.]

Yeah! I know that! Bellamy loved the Greeks and Romans. He taught me about the Gods. Persephone was also... Deme... Democratic? The goddess of the harvest.

[summertimeblues]

[Richie laughs, smiling broad.]

That's Demeter, kidlet. [He shakes his head and gestures to the state of her clothes. She's like something cobbled together from odds and ends. Scraps of modern materials, puzzling stuff now that he thinks about it.]

What's going on with you that you'd mix up Greek gods and the Democratic process? They came from the same place, sure, but one's myth and one's government.

[She sounds American, looks it a bit. But can't be. Nobody'd fuck up the two subjects like that if they were born in Virginia.]

[emori]

[Emori chuckles goofily.] Demeter. I was close. Democratic process I've only heard of. It was 2156 where I'm from. Not a lot of stuff left over history wise.

[She wonders how old he is to call her a "kidlet."]

[summertimeblues]

Twenty one sixty five?! [Richie gives a whistle, pushing the flop of hair off his forehead as he works out the math.] Shit, that's too damn far! I'd be...god, two hundred and some? Dust, basically. Old bones you could dig up for a museum. Not that I'm far off as it is.

[She looks younger than she really is, and so does he in turn. Not that either is privy to the knowledge. He laughs as he sets his hands on his hips.] I'm a nineteen-eighty-fiver. You got questions, I got answers, but I'm damn curious to know what's happened to you that all the history's gone.

[Though the Greeks survived. How about that?]

[emori]

[Emori tilts her head and has a dirty look on her face.] You can't be that old. You've got a baby face.

[John hated when she told him that, so she used it on Richie. She is impressed with 1985, though.]

We live in clans. Use horses-- except John and Clarke's people had a Rover. Eat what we find on the land. Most of us answered to a Commander, who was both like a queen and military expert in one.

[summertimeblues]

[He grimaces. Child please. You'd think that the smoking would have sucked the baby fat out of him, but such is his curse.] I'm thirty-seven now. I doubt I'll live to see your time.

[Apocalypses aside, that is. Speaking of which—]

You're kidding me. What happened to all the computers?

[Though that gleeful leap his gut does gives him away. It's comforting, in a roundabout, existential schadenfreude way. As a man living through a time where machines seemed to thread their wires in strangling holds around the last vestiges of humanity, it was something spectacular to hear that the whole set up went south after a point. No good in general, no, but still. Man vs. Machines, and it sounds like flesh and blood won out.]

[emori]

The computers were still around. I had a job for a little bit, collecting tech for this ... AI that lived in a mansion. Long story.

[She isn't sure why he's asking, his tone kind of makes her wonder.]

She tried to take over everyone. Really fucked up. What was Earth like before all that?

[summertimeblues]

People trying to take over everyone. What else? [Richie shakes his head.] AI outta control. I could see that coming from a mile away.

In my time that stuff was just getting the ball rolling. You had phones but you used them to talk to people, none of this tippy-tappy texting crap. It was comfy though. Didn't realize exactly how much until I got tossed out here.

[They've been going a little while now as strangers. If they're about to get jumped by woodland monsters he'd rather not die anonymously. Richie throws her a smile.]

What's your name, kid?

[emori]

[Emori was pretty charmed by Richie, he had an entertaining way of talking. She waves her hand.] We had walkie talkies on Earth, we didn't have any of this texting stuff like they have here. That's new to me too.

[She pulled on her backpack, unsure if he was going to offer to shake or some other ritual.] Emori. You?

[summertimeblues]

Walkie talkies. That's cute. [Nostalgic too.

Turns out it's a handshake that's in order. Richie extends for one with lazy ease.]

Rich Tozier. Be sure they spell it right on my tombstone if I die out here.

[emori]

[Emori has one slim hand and one with a huge mitten over it, hiding her mutation. Obviously, she throws out her right hand. She thanks whatever deity saw it fit to disable her that they at least picked the hand she wouldn't be using as much.]

Rich? Like someone who has a lot of stuff?

[summertimeblues]

[He'd missed the mitten before this. He catches it off-side now. A quick glance and quicker double take.

He declines to comment. Maybe it's burned or some such thing. Outside of winter chill you didn't cover things unless you wanted to hide them. He can respect that.]

Like as in Richard, but don't dare ever call me that. Rich or Richie works. You're too old yourself to get away with Mr. Tozier, but if you must I'll allow it.

[emori]

[Emori's watching all of Richie's movements so the look isn't missed. But as long as he doesn't ask...]

I like Richie. I don't call anyone mister anything. Last names are a new concept to me. My friends had to explain it to me. Long story.

[summertimeblues]

Really? [That hook nearly nets a grim follow up — so are you an orphan? Are families too much baggage in the new world order? But of course if the former is true then that's sticking fingers in wounds he has no right to poke at. If it's simply the way of things, then it just doesn't matter.]

It's a touch more poetic your way, I think. You get all the credit for your own doing. [He starts to resume the trek, inviting her along with a cavalier smile.] Of course if you fuck up there's no where for the blame to go but square on your head.

[emori]

[She just nods when he says 'really' because she's not sure if she should go on. Like she said, long story. But she'd tell it if he wanted.

Emori starts walking along side him, hand slipping under the strap of her back and yanking.]

Well, some people had their clan name as part of their name. Like my friend Echo, she was Echo kom Azgeda. Kom meaning "of" in Trig. Or our commander, Lexa kom Trikru. When I had to head into space with the others, we decided we'd be Spacekru. So I guess I could introduce myself as Emori kom Spacekru.

[She sounds nervous when she asks the next part.]

Did people blame your family when you fucked up?