❪ 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

[mollymocked]

[Molly can only expect so much control over his desires. He's not an idiot who can't tell when he's been drugged by something- he spends too much time putting things in his body that are not necessarily healthy to get the telltale signs. This forest'll get you one way or another, and this time it's going for one of his weaknesses.

The fact that he is extremely attention-starved and lonely. Consumed with irrational lust, too, but he feels very deeply that if he wanted to, he could swallow it down, and run and take care of it elsewhere. There is a certain element of this that strikes him as deeply Not Nice. There's also an element of himself that decides I Don't Care.

So he skips. Not saunters, not swaggers, but skips over. The proximity is clearly the only thing that's kept him even remotely in control, because the second he's in Takasugi's orbit, it's like the wind goes out of him. If he had pupils, they would have dilated by now, but all he has is wide blank red eyes and the feel of his tongue rolling along his bottom lip before he bites down.]

Okay. Now you can repeat it.

[shikomizue]

[As Takasugi tilts his head in the grass to better see the features of the man - the monster - little white petals tumble down his mussed hair. His nostrils flare, taking in a scent too muddled to even begin to sort through. As if he'd want to.

All he knows is that he likes the strange aroma, and he wants more. Warmth, the smell of this man's skin, and how his hair must feel. Takasugi stares and thinks through every sensation this nonhuman could bring to him.

Not without noticing the way his tongue flicks over his lips, and that's enough to rouse a sense of need in him. It expunges everything else from his mind: caution that was barely there to begin with and, more importantly, pride that would draw out the time between now and when he gets to touch and be touched.]

Fall down here. [Clipped, he repeats his order while reaching upwards, tangling a hand in whatever of Molly's outfit he can reach - ideally, a belt?]

[mollymocked]

[There's a belt, with three swords and a pouch attached, because he didn't think to drop those when he dropped his coat. Again- not stupid. If it goes a place he doesn't like, he wants something close by. Still, he's intrigued, Takasugi's got that 'full-on interested' vibe working for him, even if it strikes him as the usual 'look it's a tiefling, I bet they're a good fuck' sort of thing, which he's all for, even if it is a bit objectifying. Well, if everyone's having fun...

Molly drops to his knees more due to the fact that it seems the next logical conclusion than because he's following orders. He's a brat, accustomed to following his own lead. If you're going to try to dominate him, then you're gonna work for it. The shift in position puts him on eye level and he leans forward until they're nose to nose, until the white pollen smudges his skin and makes his breath hitch as he breathes more of it in.]

Well, since we're both here. What did you have in mind? [Takasugi seems to want to take the lead on this. Molly's willing to acquiesce even if he's not interested in being a pliant lay. This guy's shady- Molly knew it from the moment he did his reading. It's a very dangerous game he's in right now where sense will be written over by lust within moments. And yet, it just intensifies the twist in his gut, the heat in his chest. He's got a problem right now and a solution right in front of him. Go where it leads you, and sort it out later.]

[shikomizue]

[Closer. They're closer now, the other creature has fallen to his level and Takasugi can feel his heat. It throbs, the air between them too hot and too vast. He mirrors the other's sway, leaning near enough to feel the monster's breath against his skin.

His tongue flicks over his lips, a memory of the knowledge of where to go from here. Takasugi knows he wants to take, not to be taken. He wants to feel his fingers press divots into skin and watch breaths fall in shudders from a trembling chest.

The thought makes him shiver, head tilting suddenly to bump into the side of a horn.] Take this off... [One step at a time is all he can manage, without completely losing all sense of separation between himself and this person and the field around them. If he indulges too quickly, he'll be lost-

Takasugi nuzzles the horn against his scalp, rubbing the base of his ear into the curve. It calms him, abates enough of the urgency he's suffering to allow his hands to wander purposefully to the buckle of the other's belt.

He unfastens it deftly, and continues, fingers sliding under any layer of clothing he can find in an attempt to peel it all away.]

[mollymocked]

[There's a lot of interesting facets about tiefling biology being laid out here for the observation- their body heat is a little higher than normal to accommodate their resistance to fire, so the air is smoldering with the combination of normal temperature and the sudden influx of wanton lust and the heat it generates. The curved horns are covered in a light velvet coating along the ridges, and while there's no active sensation in them for Molly to get any kind of oxytocin high from the touch, he still leans into it a bit. It's not the first time someone has been surprised by the combination of hard cartilage and velvet coating and wanted to indulge in it.

Molly covers the wandering hands and takes control over the belt, protective of the few things he owns and cares about, dropping it behind him and out of the way, but within reach if need be. He leaves Takasugi to deal with his lower half while he pulls away from his nuzzling to yank the loose fitting jerkin over his head and toss it aside, exposing the full array of tattoos that crest over his right shoulder and down his back- peacock feathers and flowers, and serpents twining down his arm and terminating onto his palm and back of his hand and blood red eyes in various places. And hundreds of pale scars- lilac against lavender- mostly small slices here and there, though a few uglier ones that curve down his side and near his lower back look like they might be from arrows or larger blades.

He straightens, providing better access, allowing Takasugi to work the trousers (and nothing else) off, though they stop just shy of his knee high boots, tangled until Molly agrees to lay flat. He's exposed enough, visible, and quite evidently hard, but rather than allow Takasugi to continue, he plants his hands on the other man's shoulder and digs his still covered knee into his crotch, rubbing friction and grinning like he knows precisely what he's doing- trying to take control or at least make the whole thing more enjoyable by being a challenge. As he bears down, the curve of his horns brush against his forehead and he forces eye contact however he can, and his Cheshire Cat smile only gets wider.]

[shikomizue]

[Without horns to nuzzle against, Takasugi's head feels too light. As if it and the rest of him might drift away in the breeze with the petals surrounding them. He's loathe to release the belt to the monster's whim, fingers pried away only to immediately curl in the fabric of his pants. Something, anything, to stay grounded, and not lose the rack of bones and flesh he's found.

He's determined to stretch against that body, feel the curve of spine and ribs and hip and everything else.

Lips parted, he crawls over the supine body once his partner splays himself in the meadow. Intricate lines weave over his musculature, fantastical pictures he might appreciate in the stories they tell, were he taking the time to dwell on it. All he can spare those swaths of art now is a graze of teeth as he rakes up the man's chest to nudge his jawline with the crown of his head.

The scars, he feels with wandering hands hesitating over cooler, raised skin. They're familiar, though he can't place where or when he'd lingered on such features before.

He'd have devoured the man in an instant had pressure not met his crotch. Takasugi groans, shoulders curling inwards and head dropping to the man's collarbone. He rests it there, swaying his hips against sensation he can't resist. Heavy breath after heavy breath tumbles from his lips, until the friction of cloth begins to burn.

Then he pulls away, one hand retreating to fumble with his sash and fundoshi.]

[mollymocked]

[Everything has gone hazy around the edges like a daydream. Molly makes a throaty noise at the feel of teeth on his already heavily marked up chest, reveling in that brief suggestion of danger. He bleeds so much on his own terms that he doesn't fear a little blood, and there are people in the world who get off on it. He would hardly be the one to not oblige it.

His hands, sharp-nailed and calloused from handling blades rake through Takasugi's hair as he leans forward, while Molly's knee continues to gingerly seek out points of interest that he can reach, adding them to some mental catalog to seek out when he has better access. He pays clear attention, noting when he goes for the sash, and lets his leg fall flat. Always leave them wanting more. So goes the circus, so goes sexual deviancy.

That daydream feeling is giving this a backdrop it doesn't have. Molly is creature of emotion. Random encounters don't suit him unless he has developed some sort of emotional connection, but nothing like that happened. Moments ago he'd been thinking about his sword belt and how his sole encounter with this person had been intriguing, but not worth this, but the pollen has blinded his eyes and intrigue now seems good enough.

But that, of course, means, not knowing quite where to take the lead or be led, he responds with his usual tricks, reading the metaphorical room enough to dig his nails into an arm as he pulls his hand away from the tangle of his hair, and to let any gentle caresses, along back and leg, be done by his squirming whipcord of a tail as the clothes start to fall away, and, all the while, Molly ducks his chin and plants kisses on every part of Takasugi's head he can reach, even once going as far as to get his teeth around a dark lock and pull with enough pressure to sting, but not enough to snatch him bald. Merely an indication of playful impatience. He even giggles a bit once he's let go.]