hearthwarming: ratphi (029)
𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢 🌼 ([personal profile] hearthwarming) wrote in [community profile] crescentview2023-02-07 08:20 pm

🏝️ dulces sueños group excursion! 🏝️

🏝️ who: intrepid adventurers (vacationers?) and more!
🏝️ what: ori organized (origanized?) a group trip to the resort! mass memshare ensues.
🏝️ when: fall 9-10
🏝️ where: dulces sueños resort
🏝️ warnings: threads will be marked as needed for memshares.

[ Hopefully everyone had fun on the Arco Lunar! The morning after the boat departs from the docks, a letter arrives to your mailbox: ]

Hello, intrepid adventurer!

I am excited to have you along for a group excursion to the mysterious new island! In two days' time, let us gather in the town square and set off from there! Please be prepared to stay the night. It will be so fulfilling and memorable for everyone to spend a night on an adventure together!

If you have any questions or concerns, please come find me at my flower shop in town or at the forest farm where I live!

Sincerely,
Oriphi


[ If she accidentally delivered it to a few wrong mailboxes, then... Oops!

On the promised day, once everyone (and likely a few surprise tag-alongs) has gathered or been gathered, Ori distributes little paper bags of snacks to everyone. Inside are cookies, oat snacks, and a freshly-picked apple from her and M-21's orchard. Do with them as you please... Just don't let her catch you throwing it into the sea or something. 🥺 ]


Alright. I think we should head out, then! Thanks for coming along, everyone! I hope it'll be a great time. Oh, and please don't forget to drink plenty of water and use this incredible ointment I discovered on this island! It's called "sunscreen!" Tieflings don't really get sunburnt, but you should use it!

[ And with that our intrepid adventurers set off to the mysterious, dangerous, unknowable... resort island! ]


( This is the ill-fated mass extinction memshare event. Please refer to the event for details on the resort and the plotting post for any specific details for characters' memshares! There are toplevels for each area of the resort (and for the memshare). Enjoy! )
sicklysweet: (o46)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-16 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
[Runs in twenty years late........... There's a brief run down of available options on my plotting post, but Owen has over a thousand years of memories to work with, most of which come with content warnings (typically death/suicide and violence, but there's other things to keep it spicy like eye scream, child abuse, emotional manipulation, [fantasy] racism/prejudice, so on and so forth), and you can choose if you want it to be interactive and semi-cyoa or theater-style, just watching the memories unfold.

Also, please specify if you want first or third person as well! If you want to work things out beforehand, my plotting comment is open and I'm at [plurk.com profile] revelries.]
passthrough: (021)

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-16 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Basement time, first person, you can choose whether it is interactive or not! Whatever is more fun for you to write.]
sicklysweet: (3860288 (33))

i just wrote too much and this took so long i'm sorry KSDFBDS

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-23 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[The room is dark and cold - colder even then outside, where the sun bounces off the snow and everything around the village is blindingly white. The metal around your wrists, your ankles, feels like ice, and it makes your limbs feel so heavy. It's quiet, too, the only noise the rustling of a rat sniffing about for food and the clinking of the chains connected to you.. There's no food to be found, though, the only thing in the room that rat, yourself, and an old picture book you've flipped through countless times already. You're familiar with it, had carried it in with you, have memorized the drawings showing a knight rescuing those who need it most... Those who are good and kind, in need of protection.

People kind of like you. You had thought you were a good boy - you did everything you were asked, even following that man into the basement without complaint and waiting. And waiting. And waiting, hope that a knight would come and save you almost eclipsing the cold and the aching pain in your stomach. It's hard to know how much time has passed, with no window to look out of and no light coming through the cracks in the door, but the longer you sit here the more weak and hollow you feel. Though if you sleep, you might miss your rescuer, right? There has to be someone out there who will save you, right? And then you won't be alone anymore...

That thought repeats in your head, over and over, but it's fading fast. You're fading fast, and you slip into a sleep you've never experienced before. Everything is nothing, a darkness that is more overwhelming then the darkness of that room, but you are not hungry, you are not sad, and even though you are still alone you do not feel it. You are nothing at all. Then your eyes open again, and you gasp as your lungs begin to work again. Not much later, you fall back into that nothingness.

Then you wake up.

Then you sleep.

You lose track of how many times this happens, but you know things have changed. The clothing you were wearing gets more and more tattered, starts to somehow get smaller until it no longer fits at all, but it's the same process over and over and over. You sleep, you wake up, you sleep again, with that same hollow feeling. Your heart is - gone, at some point, though you cannot recall where it went. It must be close, but you rarely have the energy to look for it.

The room changes, too. Thorny vines, roots, you do not know quite what they are, break through the ceiling, growing over the door and trapping you even more securely, chaining you and this room to the ground. You cannot hope to pull them away, those chains still keeping you in place all of this time later, but you see the roots and you know that escape is more impossible then ever before. Even if you were saved, what could there still be on the other side?

One day there is another change. The quiet on the other side of the thorns is broken, muffled voices making through. It takes you a moment to understand what they're saying, to remember words have an inherent meanings and what those meanings are, and something besides nothing fills your chest.

- were actually true, it'd mean that wizard has been trapped up in here for about a hundred years without any food or water. Wizards may be wizards, but it's not like they're immortal.

The rest is even more muffled, but there is the sound of effort being made, and then the door is open and the men beyond the door seem so satisfied with themselves, and whatever it is they're saying is unimportant as you try to draw up your energy.]


Who...? Are you really going to... let me out...?

[The thought sparks something delirious in you, and you cannot stop yourself from laughing. Finally, finally, you're allowed to leave, you can get out, you can be free...

The men scream. Close the door, monster-

And then you are all alone in that darkness again.]
passthrough: (034)

I put it all in me mouth

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-23 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's familiarity sprinkled with so much he doesn't understand. The cold, the bite of the cuffs... the yearning to be good, to listen, to be subservient... it has his gut aching with confusion and alarm, even before the tight grip of hunger reaches up to claw.

This isn't an experience he's felt before. To be locked away in the dark is one matter. But to feel the body wasting away, slowly and painfully with a cold fire in the stomach and chest, tiring out the limbs and mind...

He's so hungry. He's so cold. He's so tired... so... so tired.

The part of him that's still him wants to fight. But complacency takes control of this dream, trying to hope someone knows he's here... whoever this is. The pain doesn't stop, though, and help never arrives... and when that darkness arrives, he can guess what's happened. He knows this feeling. This nothing.

...

And then he snaps back. It's not a smooth process, like his summoning had been. It's harsh, and painful, and it doesn't stop his predicament. Over, and over, and over and over and over, slipping away only to snap right back, like he's never being allowed to fall asleep and rest.

It's agony.

Years turn to decades. He can numbly feel and see the minute changes, how the earth starts to gobble up his space in between lapses of conciousness, the lack of a pulse pounding in his chest. The lack of a pulse...

This... is this...

He can't concentrate. It becomes rhythmic, borderline forgettable in just trying to cope with the constant rise and fall. It's cruel.

So when a noise finally erupts after years and years and years of nothing, Otegine finds his own heart aching just as much for something. The manic emotion doesn't ring out of place at all, feeling as though no emotion and every emotion could tumble out and not be enough. Please, please, have mercy--

And then the door closes.

They'd said a wizard. A monster.

This... this was Owen.




Distress and anger bubble up him, hot and fierce. All he wants to do is scream, and beg, and make whatever noise he needs. Don't leave him alone. Don't leave him..]
sicklysweet: (3860288 (31))

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-24 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
[The world outside is quiet again, the terrified shouts of the men fading away. The cold feels even worse, now, the darkness more oppressive as feelings you do not know burn you up. How could this happen to you? What have you done to deserve this? You tried to be good, you waited and waited and waited, and still you are left here.

Your voice cracks as you wail, but there is something that has shifted. Their fear, your despair, it burns in you and then it's spilling over in a boiling a mess, and the chains that have kept you in place crumble into dust. You cannot see them, but you can feel them. Something watching you, listening to you, interested in watching what you will do and answering to the agony you feel.

You push yourself to you feet, your body hardly able to support yourself, but you are - different. The same but not the same, a startling clarity that you are more then what you had once been. Your breaths are shallow and rapid, and you do not notice how the world around you is being poisoned by the dreams you had once had of being safe, and happy, and living the sort of ideal life that only a child could imagine, but all it takes is one more breath, one more command--

Your prison cracks, and you can see the sky for the first time in more then you can comprehend, and you can drag yourself into the light. The fear of the villagers is palpable - more then just the men that had found you, there are so many people who have gone through their lives with no thought to you locked away underneath them, and you are losing sight of who you could have once been. There's another moment, the eyes that no one can feel but yourself waiting...

You do not know what you say, but it's only a whisper that destroys that village. You stand there all alone as the snow falls, looking blankly at the wrecked of the buildings and the unrecognizable remains of the villagers. The land is truly tainted now, magic settling over everything like a fog only you and the spirits can see. You sway in one place, surrounded by despair and destruction and a freedom you have been waiting for.

You fall to your knees, and then your side, and then the world goes dark again.]
passthrough: (031)

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-24 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
[Despair.

He hates this. He HATES this feeling, one that claws and thrashes in his now-empty chest like a wild animal, gripping the throat and tearing out as nothing but noise. What does he do? What CAN he do?

To realize the shackles have completely vanished takes a long, long moment. To recognize the presence that now lurks... that takes another. He can feel himself operating on the bare minimum, on desperation and spite and the throes of agony, a forcing of the body to freedom with words he can feel on his lips but can't understand.

The sky hurts the eyes. But when it all comes into focus and he sees more - sees people, TONS of people, going about their lives only to recoil in fear at where he pulls himself free...

Did they not know where he was? Why?? Why had no one come for him, or even bothered to look? Why were they scared of him?

Why were they--

...

How quickly a single whisper turns into destruction. This is far from the first time Otegine has seen the wreckage of war, the piling of corpses. But for everything, absolutely everything, to be flattened because of a simple opening of his mouth...

He tastes bile in his throat, distress vibrant in the back of his mind. There's no satisfaction, no relief... only numbness and the bitter, bitter cold. Why? Why?? Did they deserve this any more than he did??

He can't dwell for long. Though he tries to fight it, he can feel the creeping in his vision. He doesn't want to see this anymore. He can't. So he lets it take him freely.]
sicklysweet: (o46)

memory Complete ✨

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-25 06:53 am (UTC)(link)
[You wake up again, and the village is still gone. The air is nearly thick with the magic that permeates the ground, but you... can see the sky. The sun is rising, painting the sky in pinks and purples. The snow glitters around you, and everything is beautiful even with the chill in the air and the death surrounding you.

For the first time in your life, in the time that was taken from you, you are free.

Years pass. You fall into oblivion time and time again, but never in the same way you had before. Sometimes it's a welcome release from the pain that overtakes your body, but it's never from that wasting feeling. Never again do you get locked away.

The years turn to centuries. You get more and more powerful and you meet nothingness time and time again, but every time you wake up. You get a mark on your tongue that you question, that you try to tear off of yourself, that brands you as someone chosen to be a protector. One of your comrades is a man who has already killed you countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to take it personally. More centuries passed, but you hardly notice, already used to losing time. To forgetting. Things seem like a distant memory, locked away tight.

One day, you stand in a vibrant forest. The air is hazy and everything looks like it came from a dream, picturesque, fantastical colors all around you. Rainbows are cast on the ground from crystals in the air, and snow falls gently from the sky. You know, deep in the forest, there are countless corpses of people who wanted to escape into dreams, life far too painful to keep living.

You're not alone, this time. The person across from you is - young, human. Not from the world you call home. They look around the forest in amazement, unable to hold back their nervous question:

I wonder what turned the trees here poisonous...?

You've heard the stories, and you have an answer.]


Rumor has it that a powerful wizard laid waste to the whole area a long, long time ago, and that's why this place is the way it is now. Supposedly, he was so powerful that he turned everything here into a pulpy-squishy mess.

[The Sage goes pale, but you continue on, cheerful at the sight of their discomfort and they way they mumble about how that sounds awful.]

I wish I could have seen it. How do you think it feels? ...Do you you mind if you try it out on you?

[You laugh at Akira, at how they go even paler even as you say you'll hold back. You feel light, unbothered, looking around at the trees. For a moment, you feel... something that you cannot place. Maybe it's more that it's something you don't want to place.]

This was still a small, fledgling forest of poison when I first saw it...

I feel a little nostalgic when I remember how it used to be.


[Which doesn't say much, when you do not know much about yourself.]
passthrough: (060)

1/2

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-26 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a horrifying, almost unbearable freedom. A present bathed in blood and a future with seemingly no limitations... an autonomy so unbelievably different than the one he knows.

Centuries pass, swaths of time that group together and muddle. This he knows well, takes in stride even as it stacks and stacks. Even history couldn't help but muddle the details as time moved forward. Not even the oldest spirits in the citadel could escape their own erosion someday, either by the wear of time or by the constant twist of narrative. To be missing time...

He knows, very deeply, how little can be done when the time has fallen from the mind.

To keep dying, over and over, to return to the grip of that void only to never quite rest in it fully, to ricochet back as though it were nothing more than a dream... it's nauseating, but only at first. Just like the room, a familiarity and rhythm picks up. He comes to expect it more often than not. He knows its not permanent. Not for him.

And the thought of it is both powerful and agonizing. To never be able to rest. To find himself no longer caring about his own recklessness, his own bodily worth, because he knows there is no end. There is no moment to rest from the suffering of the world that won't leave them behind.

There's no choice but to keep being free. There's no worth in anything but the power that creeps into his veins, a temporary purpose, a badge that he belongs, even though his constant death seems to scream otherwise. Is it power? Or is it luck? And what does he do if it runs out?

...

Muddled in mind as he is, it takes a moment to right himself through the conversation, to the words drawing from his lips out of his own accord. He remembers, and yet... he doesn't. Owen doesn't. He's speaking about this as fiction, and yet... it doesn't feel like he's lying.

...

Had he shoved that suffering to the side on purpose? Or... had time simply moved on so long that he couldn't bear to look? To have no sense of identity, to feel nostalgia but have only emptiness when he looked back...

...

It's not fair. None of this.

None of this is fair.]
passthrough: (034)

2/2 whenever we are ready for followup

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-26 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
[He starts awake with a jerk, a cold sweat and a hand clapping over his mouth to keep himself from yelping. Where...

...

The resort... the island...

...

All he can do is shake at first, trying to breath and reorient himself. But the sting of centuries of cruelty in a single memory sits heavy in his limbs, in the pit of his stomach where he'd felt nothing.

Only when he's had time to try and make sure he won't wake up anyone else around him does he quietly adjust himself to get to his feet and find where Owen's tucked himself away.

The Touken doesn't bother to wake him. With weak limbs, he drops himself right back down to the bare floor at the feet of the wizard, ignorant of the lack of bedding, pressing his forehead to one of his legs in some feeble form of contact.

He can't fall asleep. But he doesn't want to be alone... and he doesn't want Owen to wake up alone, either.]
sicklysweet: (o45)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-27 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[The pressure against his legs isn't what wakes Owen - he's not sure what did, consciousness returning to him slowly as memories that were not his own fade into the background. Not forgotten, no, but tucked away with words he would struggle to say in any circumstance beyond the most fantastical.

It actually takes him a moment to notice Otegine, not registering until he shuffles underneath the blanket he's swaddled himself in and feels something that wasn't there before. He squints through the darkness, pushing himself upright slowly.

The memory of melting into useless slag plays through his mind as he stares.]


...Otegine.

[His voice is soft, quiet, well aware of the people sleeping around him even if Owen set himself up as far from the group as he could. He... doesn't know what to say, with the knowledge he now has.

One more chance. That's what he gave him.]


...Good morning.
passthrough: (082)

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-27 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[Otegine doesn't get up from the floor, merely tilting his attention up when he feels movement against him. He's in prime range to get a knee to the eyes if he's not careful, but... it feels arbitrary in the moment, to worry about that.]

...Hey. Good morning.

[His hair's a mess as usual, eyes a little heavy with exhaustion. But they soften up towards Owen, a hundred questions on his lips but no energy to ask or desire to darken the space.]

Sorry. I didn't wake you, did I?
sicklysweet: (o20)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-27 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
No.

[He pauses, feeling like everything he wants to - or could - say isn't something he wants an audience for. He can't trust that someone won't wake up, or that someone already is awake.]

...Do you want to go to the beach? With me.
passthrough: (018)

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-28 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
...Right now?

[Practically whispered, because wow there's so many people in here...

It's still dark, and it's probably cold out... but the night air has always been a welcome friend after a rough dream, the stars a distraction, the feel of the earth under bare feet a grounding point.

He carefully lifts onto his elbows, nodding slowly, tiredly.]


Yeah. I, uh... I'd like that.

Give me a second to find my shoes, okay?
sicklysweet: (pic#14878122)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-28 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah…

[He nods, letting Otegine go. He pulls back the covers completely, drawing his own shoes towards him with magic.]

Try not to wake anyone up.

[He slides his shoes on, the laces doing themselves up as he gets to his feet.]
passthrough: (017)

[personal profile] passthrough 2023-02-28 06:31 am (UTC)(link)
I don't plan on it. I'm a spear, not an alarm clock. [A light huff, the roll of his eyes done in tired jest as he props his chin in one hand, watching Owen rise.]

I'll meet you outside.

[He'll need a minute to stumble his way back and figure out where his items are without tripping over five other people in the process. But eventually, he'll make his way out the door, a jacket shrugged over his shoulders as he squints against the lights of the resort halls, hair and clothes askew from sleep.

He hums his acknowledgment of Owen wherever he waits, a low energy mumble that betrays his annoyance at the punch to the senses of being awake at ass-o-clock A.M.... It's an old friend, but never one that felt great. But despite his tired muttering, he still cocks his head towards the front doors, seeing if Owen will follow alongside or simply lead the way.]


Any reason you asked for the beach?

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1/2 surprise

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2/2

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framestory: (/sparkles at)

[personal profile] framestory 2023-02-18 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ montage of stupid ways to die, first person, interactive :) ]
sicklysweet: (3860288 (3))

cw death and violence for the rest of this thread for obvious reasons,

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-23 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[You’re seated on a crooked metal broom, a castle on a mountain your destination. It’s an imposing building, but it looks breathtaking and almost welcoming in the light of the aurora above you. You’re well-aware that you wouldn’t be welcome, as you glide over the parapets and land on a balcony. The air around you is thick with magic, feeling like an electric charge, but you ignore it as you place your hand on the glass doors in front of you. It takes some effort, but you can exploit an oversight into the protection and get the door open.

Now, what to do first? There’s a whole castle in front of you - all you need to do is mind the man who calls it home.]
framestory: (pic#16129590)

[personal profile] framestory 2023-02-25 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cool. He's breaking and entering. What a nice start to things. Since he's here, he might as well raid the fridge or whatever there is of its equivalent. Let's find the kitchen! ]
sicklysweet: (pic#14878123)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-26 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
[To the kitchens! The castle, while large, does at least have a reasonable and sane layout. No labyrinth here, just a lot of cold hallways and imposing rooms.

The kitchen is… honestly quite disappointing. It’s large, and there’s a fire-burning stove and an icebox, but the pantry and cold storage is near barren. Whoever lives here either doesn’t need to eat much, doesn’t know how to cook, or both. There is a loaf of bread that you recognize as a kirken meteor which you can grab for a snack, if you want. A sweet treat, ripe for the taking!

Asides from that, this is a sad bachelor kitchen in a very nice castle. Not much to see here, but still the rest of the castle to explore.]
framestory: (pic#9589276)

[personal profile] framestory 2023-02-26 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Kirken meteor... well, it's a snack, so he'll grab that. His now. He munches on it as he goes off to explore. He wonders if there are trapdoors or anything like underneath the grand staircases or something. ]
sicklysweet: (Default)

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-27 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's delicious! Also, it seems to make you feel... better? Not as tired, at least, but maybe that's just the sugar putting more pep in your step.

There's nothing as cliché as a trapdoor, but there does seem to be something meant for storing something important. Visually, the door is unassuming, but you can feel the magic there. Heavily concentrated - it would take immense effort to break the protection spell, but you know just how to do that!

Or you can just try the knob without a care. Or do whatever else you want, but there's probably something very powerful and valuable behind this door.]
framestory: (pic#9589279)

[personal profile] framestory 2023-02-28 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Treasure? Something shiny? Something new? Ellis is there. He'll break the protection spell to get through. Show him da moneyssss ]
sicklysweet: (o02)

1/2

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-28 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh no! You activated my trap card!

Which is to say you don't have much time to actually admire the treasure beyond the door, because as soon as you're over the threshold the atmosphere changes. It gets darker, heavier, and you hear the crackle and buzz of something electric.

Whether you turn around or not to see man behind you is irrelevant, because what matters is the tired way he sighs. He should have known it was you, and he knows the best way to get rid of you and the lightning is unavoidable.

Vox Nox.

You die.]
sicklysweet: (Default)

2/2

[personal profile] sicklysweet 2023-02-28 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[You open your eyes to find yourself in a snowy field. You have a faint ringing in your ears, and you hair is still frizzy from static. Smoothing it out is easy enough, and you don't look as rumpled as you should.

In the distance you can see a lake to the south, and a forest to the west. To the east there seems to be a blizzard forming, and to the west... You can't make out much in the way of landmarks.

Do you want to continue? Where do you want to go?]
framestory: (pic#9117764)

[personal profile] framestory 2023-02-28 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sorry to Owen if he doesn't shriek upon dying, but Ellis sure did. When he comes around, the static makes him feel uneasy considering he just got shocked to death. Anyway, Ellis will continue, because nothing will progress if he does not. ]