❪ 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

[quintessent]

[To be fair, his version is probably a lot more reasonable tale to tell than the reality of her situation, at least in the moment.

She gives him a dubious look, the word princess at least seems to stir something, just a flicker of recognition from a lifetime of being called that. She vaguely touches the gold sitting on the crown of her head once again, frowning when she realizes she’s feeling doubt over such a tall tale. She drops her hand to cross her arms over her chest,]

But how can that be when I have been living here with my father for my entire life. I’ve barely ventured outside of these forests in my lifetime. Are you suggesting this is all... fabricated? My family's shop? My life?

[mollymocked]

That's exactly what I'm suggesting. [Which is a bit ridiculous, Molly has to admit. Thesans, in general, aren't used to tieflings. He probably looks like some colorful devil here to spirit her away and it's not like he has any proof to offer up to her.]

It's... some sort of bad business? A nasty spell of some sort. I'm not certain of the particulars. [That flicker of recognition was so small and gone so soon.] You really can't remember anything out of place? Anything you know that you know that you probably shouldn't know?

[If Lucien could laugh at him, he'd be doing it now. What a fucking mess he's in.]

[quintessent]

[It's very ridiculous, going about your day to day life and out of nowhere someone shows up and tells you that you're a princess of a far off kingdom? It sounds like something from a children's book. But there's something about his tale that makes her uneasy,

Her stance softens as her confidence wanes, crossed arms shifting to a loose wrap of her arms in front of her,] I feel like... I know you.

It's difficult to put to words. When you held my hand earlier, I had this peculiar feeling like it wasn't the first time. It reminded me of something.

[mollymocked]

That's good! That's a start! It's not much proof, I know, but you wouldn't feel that way if I weren't telling the truth and some part of you didn't remember something.

[Except for the fact that he is lying, and he can't really recall ever taking her hand like that before... He probably did, actually. If he has to remember every person he's ever touched, they're going to be here all day.

But this is clearly a slow process, and they are out in the open. They need a change of scenery and maybe some further conversation.] ...Did you say you ran an apothecary?

[Two birds, one stone. He's doing good work and no one can judge him for multitasking.]

[quintessent]

[Technically he did, when he was giving her the coins they earned in Olympia! She doesn't seem entirely convinced, but when he mentions the apothecary, her face brightens by degrees and she nods,]

It belongs to my father, but I assist him where I can.

[Even just the mention of her father gives her more confidence, made obvious in the slow way her posture changes, back straightening and shoulders becoming more square. She really does wear her heart directly on her sleeve. She nods in the direction of her store,]

Why don't we go talk to him? If there is a spell going on as you say, he may be able to help make sense of it.

[mollymocked]

[He touches so many people, in figurative and metaphorical ways. He's really hoping it's the metaphorical way that's going to reach out and strike something in that heart of hers, so clearly displayed on her sleeve. Maybe that's arrogance that he has had any kind of effect on anyone, but what kind of asshole goes around assuming they don't leave a mark on people somehow with their presence.

People with no confidence, basically. Molly has enough for ten people and the determination of an Undertale protagonist. Even seeing her confidence emerge from under the confusion stokes the fire of his even more. Yes. Something has to give in this illusion- either the man she's calling her father is some bastard fucking with her head or he doesn't exist at all. And Nott calls herself the best detective.]

My dear, that is wonderful idea. And if this is truly some big misunderstanding, I would be happy to sample his wares, offer a bit of coin, and not darken your door further.

[Which is something no self-respecting servant of a crown would say- he'd be expected to throw Allura over his shoulder and run for the hills.

But that's why it's a lie.]

[quintessent]

[If she notices the disparity in how he's acting versus an expectation of a royal servant, she makes no mention of it (a rare plus of her current lack of memories). Instead she nods, this plan seems well enough, and she trusts her father to find some way to untangle this mishap. She gestures for Mollymauk to follow her, making her way through the village like she'd been living there her whole life, with a nod and a wave to random passer-goers, their memories equally afflicted to carve her in as a member of their society.]

Here we are-

[The shop where they end up is a modest place. Not a hovel by any means, but far from the standards of living a member of royalty would enjoy. There's dust on the shelves, but the store is otherwise cared for.

And empty.]

He must be out on an errand... he should be back soon, I'm sure.

[mollymocked]

[Molly's confidence depletes with every person that passes by and greets her- some of whom he recognizes who don't pay him any heed as anything but a stranger in town. After the inconvenience of Cree recognizing him in Zadash, he didn't think the opposite would be this irritating and disheartening.

At the shop, he steps inside like he's the one who owns it, inhaling the scent of sweet herbs and letting that relax him a bit. An apothecary is any town's gift to the weary traveler, especially if they don't have a bathhouse. He considers himself fortunate that one of his friends is magicked into believing she owns one.

Still, it doesn't sit right. It's not perfect enough- it looks too real, too lived in. Molly never questions anything he perceives, because he expects bullshit everywhere, but this is finely crafted.

He swallows and paces around the shop, restless and eager to find the flaw.] I don't mind waiting. What's your favorite thing you make here?

[He's trying to poke a hole in the illusion, but also he's curious. One can't trust anything they ingest here, but fuck it. It might take the edge off. He doesn't like feeling like the only sane person in town.]

[quintessent]

[ The forest is nothing if not devious. And the longer she spends time in it, the more time there is for false memories to crop up and take root and carving out a incredibly convincing lie.]

My favorite thing…? [But even convincing lies have flaws, and for Allura, the devil is in the details. She chews her lip, and the blank feeling she gets when looking at the collection of bottles feels that much more obvious. Having been born of a separate caste and society, it’s harder to fill in the blanks of a culture she has no experience with. And even if Molly’s confidence is in flux, his persistence shines a spotlight on every inconsistency.

For now, Allura gives a tense look at the shop around her, for the first time wondering about the truth. Her eyes fall upon a green-colored bottle, stirring false memories,]

Most of what we make is my father’s work, but we sell a lot of this-

[It’s said with half of her confidence from before and she takes the weight of the bottle in her hands thoughtfully, before handing it over to Molly,]

It’s meant to help you relax.

[Maybe the forest should have picked someone who wasn’t an alien to peddle their very human substances.]

[mollymocked]

[Details are the bane of a liar. Give too many and the lie starts falling apart at the seams. Give too little and people feel like you're withholding and will start probing for further details, which is where Molly is right now, caught on the cusp of humoring the lie and kicking it like a hornet's nest, unconcerned about what might fly out. He's not considering what the slow dissolve of the lie might do to Allura- she'll recover from it. He'll help her recover from it. It just has to end first.

His insight allows him to see that her confidence is shifting and it bolsters his. He takes the bottle from her by clasping his hands around it and her hands for a lingering moment, since that triggered something before, and when the bottle comes away, she has a couple of silver in her palms for her trouble. She's faltering and he's committing.

He removes the stopper and sniffs at the contents.] Y'know, maybe it would be cruel to remove you from this life. You seem to be flourishing here, and I know the hassles of being a princess are too much compared to the simplicity of town living.

[He replaces the stopper.] I could always say I didn't find you, unless you're starting to think this could really just be a spell. I can't force you to do anything, but... Just be happy. Be truly happy. 'Cause you can't be happy if you're wondering what's real or not.

[Never mind that he's the one who came in and smashed her reality with a hammer. There's no being delicate in this.]

ps this is such a good thread ;_; thank you for being dramatic with me

[quintessent]

[If it's supposed to bring her comfort (it's not), it only causes her frown to deepen. And his hand in hers once again isn't so jarring as before, because things are already a little off-kilter, but it feels familiar, as it did before, steeped in a slew of emotions that didn't quite match up with a simple transaction. Affection and betrayal all at once, that softened into a feeling of friendship when he passed the coins into her hands. Like a reflex or muscle memory, there was something about it that stirred something she couldn't put her finger on.

She swallows hard, palming the coins.]

...I do not care much for easy answers and willful ignorance, Mollymauk.

[Even saying that felt strange, like her own determination felt at odds with the image of the soft apothecary's daughter that had been conjured in her mind. Leaning her weight against the counter, she crosses her arms and stubbornly tugs at that metaphorical thread of doubt, to see where it leads.]

On the assumption that you're correct and this is some manner of spell, I am not sure how one would go about retrieving memories that aren't there.

you're welcome ;; he's being a dbag but at least a... kind... dbag!!!

[mollymocked]

No, you don't. [This he knows, and while he's gentle in tone, inside he feels triumphant. He's done the unthinkable if this works. Caleb'll never hear the end of it if he can saunter back home and tell him about how willful commitment to bullshit did what a dispel magic probably couldn't.]

They're probably there. [He bites down on the unpleasant way his gut twists, because admitting that out loud means admitting it's true of him. But he knows, doesn't he? He's never seen Marquet, but he knows enough to fake it and he can't say why. He's heard of different fiends and never encountered them. Those things are real and in his head and they aren't his.

But this isn't about him. It's about Allura and whoever else is ensnared in this honey trap. He isn't required to apply this logic to his own life, because if he has his way, no one will ever call him on it.] I think it's a matter of will. If you want to believe there's more to this story, it'll come to you.

[It has to. Or else this is going to be a problem.

But he can do no more here, so he gives a grand bow with a flourish of his wrist, clutching the potion to his heart.] And if you have an epiphany, well... I'm willing to wait this out. You'll find me.

[He kisses his fingertips and then gives her a little wave, and skips out the door. He keeps that confidence and spring in his step all the way to a corner which he turns abruptly, just so he can sink unhappily against the wall of a building in private.]

Fuck.

[Succinct, and to the point. Maybe it'll come to a decent end and maybe it won't. They'll see.]