crescentview | dec event overflow.

dec event overflow.

prologue

You awake to find yourself in a bed that creaks with your every movement, motes of dust flitting about the sparsely lit room. Whether you wake alone or with another by your side, you exit the worn-down building to find yourself on an old, abandoned farm. It isn’t long before a familiar voice lilts in your ears, carried to you on the breeze—

“Hurry over to the town square. Chop chop!”

Whether you go willingly or find your feet inexplicably compelled to trudge into town makes no difference. Once you arrive, you find yourself surrounded by a small ocean of new faces— some confused, some angered, and others quite chipper. At the center of the crowd is a bright-eyed woman with an otherworldly allure, her white hair tied up neatly in a bun, pamphlets and assorted papers tucked in her grasp.

“Welcome to Crescentview, farmers!”

Spreading her arms out wide — as much as she can without her papers blowing away — she eagerly regales the crowd with some fun facts about the island and the town while also reminding everyone of one very important fact:

“Remember, you’ve been brought here to tend the earth, fall in love, and begin your new lives together. You’re not leaving until you do. It will be quite the experience for you, I’m sure.”

Complain, grouse, or rejoice if you like, but don’t expect the Goddess to budge. Oh, right, there’s that too: she, the Harvest Goddess, is the one presiding over this land. Don’t get on my bad side, she gently warns as she stuffs pamphlets into the hands of Crescentview’s aspiring farmers.

spring breeze

While you’re here, you may as well check out the pamphlet the Goddess insistently pressed into your hands. Within it, you’ll find a handy infographic on each of your neighbors detailing their likes, dislikes, and... ideal dates? Even the Goddess’ profile is there. How invasive! Each farmer’s picture is hand-drawn by crayon into simple stick figures with the only difference being how the hair looks on top of their heads… if it can be called hair with the mess of crayons, that is. Every single stick figure is smiling. In front of each personalized pamphlet, there’s a stick figure on the cover with the same style as the photo. It’s definitely yours with how the hair color seamlessly matches yours. For the ones who have multicolor hair, you might notice the goddess seems a little more huffy with you.

The pamphlet also includes a map of Crescentview and lists the services available in town. There aren’t many on this small, remote island. Learning how to fend for yourself seems like the best course of action. Finally, a hand-printed bingo card has been made up for each new island resident. The Goddess must have spent quite a bit of time making these...

The Goddess gives her new questionably loyal followers a chance to mingle and mix before speaking up with another announcement. A small group of haggard-looking fairies appear at her feet, and clapping her hands, a notice board springs into existence. When the fairies fail to react, she gives one a nudge with her foot, prompting them all to burst into the world’s smallest round of applause. It’s a little... pathetic.

“Ta-da! Behold: the task board. Every season, I’ll give you new tasks to complete, and in exchange, you’ll be richly blessed by me, the Harvest Goddess. Spring is the season of new beginnings, so let’s take a look at what we’ve got cooking, hm?”

task board

The task board is located in Town Square and changes from season to season. In real time, a season is one month long. The following tasks are available from December 1st to January 1st and more tasks may be added mid-month.

Certain rewards are only available through event participation, so please keep this in mind when planning your threads. Multiple tasks may be completed within a single thread, but when turning in, please link to the individual tags in which each task was completed.

Finally, rewards are per character, not per farm, so those with housemates may want to coordinate with one another with regard to what animals you’re bringing home to your farm.

1. Greet your neighbors. For every person you meet, you will be given a random bag of spring seeds. Potato, cabbage, turnip, strawberry, and cucumber seeds are available at this time. Alternatively, random mushroom spores are also available. These include morel, matsutake, and common white mushroom spores. This task can be completed a total of 10 times for rewards. Please specify how much of each you would like when submitting your threads, i.e. “I’d like 5 random spring seed bags and 5 random mushroom bags, please!”

2. Exchange names. Start learning some names and faces: you’ll be seeing a lot of these folks! For each name you learn, you’ll earn a random bag of spring flower seeds. Daffodil, tulip, forget-me-not, primrose, and hyacinth are available this season. This task can be completed a total of 10 times for rewards, and yes, you can cheat the system and introduce yourself to someone you already know, but the Goddess won’t like it.

3. Check out your new farm. Take a look around and settle in! After a bit of wandering, you’ll notice a small cat or dog following you around and looking up at you with them big ol’ eyes. Looks like it wants to stay with you, but will you adopt it? This task can be completed once.

4. Till your field and begin planting. Find the beat up farming tools in your beat up house and begin beating your farmland into submission. Plant some seeds and be rewarded by the Goddess with a single chicken or rabbit to keep in your coop. This task can be completed once.

5. Visit another farm. Pay one of your neighbors a visit to receive a stationary set blessed by the Goddess herself. There are no cell phones or Internet on the island, so get used to sending all your “LOL”s and “XDDDD”s by hand. This task can be completed once.

6. Make a new friend. Isn’t friendship wonderful? For each person you proclaim to be your friend, you will receive two random gacha items. This task can be completed 3 times.

7. Pray to the Goddess. Whether you do so grudgingly or willingly doesn’t matter much to her so long as you’re doing it! Clasp your hands together and bow your head or throw an offering into her pond— she’ll hear you either way. Praying to the Goddess will net you a barn animal of your choosing: a cow, sheep, alpaca, or goat. This task may be completed once.

Caution: throwing certain items into her pond may have consequences. Choose your offerings wisely.

mod notes

⬥ Welcome to the game's opening and our first event!
⬥ A second event post will go up in mid-Dec.
⬥ Please plot over at the Dec Plotting Post.
⬥ As a reminder, please keep all plotting on the OOC post as not everyone has Discord or Plurk.
⬥ Please submit your completed tasks at the top-level below.
⬥ Have fun!

navigation

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ here

They take each blow, and for once, they're glad they're much sturdier than a normal human. Silver linings, they suppose, even if it's a reminder that their body is not just their own. At least the thing nestled against their damaged soul has stayed mercifully quiet.

A few good hits is right, but Mira isn't going to let them go without retaliation. They grab his wrist right before another blow can connect, and they swiftly bring their knee up into his stomach. With that bit of leverage, they move up into a crouch. Grabbing both wrists, Mira tosses him a short distance away. It's enough for them to get to their feet and catch their breath, at the very least. ]

Edited 2022-12-10 02:44 (UTC)

[ Soon as he hits the ground, Tartaglia's laughing like a lunatic. No fixing this dysfunction in him, bearing that glancing blow to the stomach that gets him so topsy-turvy, coming home to the only feeling he's ever sought out with such desperation.

It's clear now that something's weird happened. Neither his Vision or Delusion are responding properly to him, but it's hard to give much of a damn right now, sitting back upright with his sore wrists to observe Mira where they're huffing and puffing some ways away.

Here's the taunt: Tartaglia's beckoning fingers, daring Mira to brave this proximity.

Come closer. ]

[ They're certainly breathing a bit harder, and they're not quite at the level of unhinged as he is, but there's a brightness in their eyes and a grin that's edging on feral. A fight's never made them feel quite like this. Maybe it's their ability to sense others' emotions, which they've tamped down as much as they can. It doesn't work as well when they're running on adrenaline, though.

It's usually uncomfortable for them to feel others' emotions, but right now, they don't mind at all. Maybe that says something about them, but whatever it is, they don't plan on dealing with it. Tartaglia's a hell of an opponent, so they focus on that.

They move a bit closer, eyes locked on him. ]

Losing steam yet?

Does it look that way?

[ A question for a question, since this is a problem with no immediate solution. Littered with scrapes, Tartaglia rises to his feet, poised to strike but curbing the impulse. Hardly unscathed, these nascent bruises on him are blistering in the same way that blood rusts metal, everywhere that he's been struck. Shaking the tremors out of his fingers, Mira's spared a stronger rebuttal for once. His tone is articulated so softly, like he's finally practicing placation. ]

I'll go easy on you. We can call it quits once you're ready to give up.

[ Or maybe Tartaglia's just waiting for hostility to come rushing up to him again. ]

[ At that, they laugh quietly, but there's something a little more to it. It's a sharpness, something building up behind that brief sound. ]

I was just making sure. It would be a shame if we cut this short, wouldn't it?

[ And they mean that, genuinely. It's been such a long, long time since a fight made their blood run hotter and heart pound faster. Mira rolls their shoulders back, then rushes forward. At the last moment, they shift and move swiftly to his side, then ram their shoulder into his right side. ]

It would. I've been craving a real challenge, you know.

[ Maybe that could be them.

This go-around, Tartaglia takes the full brunt of the blow, all so he can insinuate himself closer, faster than terror or conscious thought. Back into the fray he goes, pushing up against that friction, one crude fist taking a stilted trajectory for Mira's jaw. If he doesn't manage to land it, he'll drive closer to the edge of self-control, so wanting in his attentiveness that Mira can probably feel how deep this wickedness in him runs— like delight's synonymous with torture or something, daring hours of bodily pain for a never-ending adrenaline rush. ]

Edited 2022-12-12 02:01 (UTC)

[ Mira tries not to think about how fucked up it is that this is the most they've felt actually, truly alive in a while. They can't deny it at all, but that doesn't mean they have to think hard on it. It's better to stay in the moment, anyway.

And they feel it. It makes them breathless in a way that's far, far different from the fight. There's that stirring from deep in their chest, something that's both them and not them. It's dangerous to chase that feeling, but they're tired of being overly cautious. They just want to feel.

They take that punch just enough that Tartaglia's fist grazes against the side of their jaw. Shifting with that inhuman speed, they move behind him and aim a hard punch at his left side. ]

[ None of this is remotely normal and that's okay. Once bidden, he escalates it himself, pulling back his closing fingers as soon as he's knocked askew. Everything's brought into jittering, uneven clarity as Tartaglia narrowly blocks his left side, boots skidding through the brambles and dirt and slushed-out mud.

And coming out of him is all of his breath, glittering like window glass smashed inward in the cold, wintry air. But he's so focused, staring at them like he's got the intent to maim. It isn't a fight to the death, nothing like that, he's just calculating how to move when his hand darts out to snatch Mira by the wrist. Pressure, so much shivering pressure, emanates from his fingertips; underneath all this composure is the thudding pulse of his heart under his skin, pounding the same way his nerves do. On impulse, Tartaglia lets them go. ]

So quick to run. Allow me, then.

[ Exercising some prerogative for once, he kicks Mira with the intent to send them hurtling through the trees. ]

[ They're quick to learn, so they're keenly aware that nothing is out of the question here. Rolling with the punches has never been more accurate, and Mira knows when to adapt. But they have their shortcomings; everyone does, and they're not immune to provocation.

Quick to run, are they-- Anger flashes sharp and as ice-cold as the mountain air and snow between their feat. The hit lands, and Mira, as small as they are, lands a fair distance away. Still, they don't intend to back down. They take their time as they push themselves up onto their feet and wipe the blood from the side of their face, courtesy of an inconveniently placed rock.

Quick to run--

They take a deep breath and walk to just the edge of the tree line. They're not sure how many minutes have passed, but it doesn't matter. They're still feeding off of his emotions and their own; the need for violence is an itch they can't scratch, a single-minded need roaring inside them as they rush at him and slam their entire weight into him. If they manage to knock him down, they straddle him, whaling on him like he had before. ]

[ Greeted by so much ferocity at once, Tartaglia obviously crumples. Can't keep his equilibrium when Mira's making quick work of bashing him in. Limbs tangled up in them, he can't impart much more than half-aborted movements from below, at first— gripping their hair, fingers sliding for traction around their shoulders before he's pushing up against their chest to shove them laterally. Knocking them down, Tartaglia's seizing at them now, anywhere he can reach them. With any luck, it's their jaw. His own is a little busted. It's clicking oddly when he speaks, aching with each word. ]

Be honest! You let yourself get that worked up? [ Shakily imparted is Tartaglia's laugh, posture so open even as he's staring them down, a little too close for this transaction to hide anything. Gesturing to Mira's injury-wet face, he speaks up: ] ... As much as I'd like to continue, we should get this treated. Let's call it even for today?

[ Stopping at blood really isn't his policy, but the mountains are treacherous. A concussion would only bode ill for a mere sparring demonstration. Whether or not Mira's willing to end things so abruptly, Tartaglia stands, lending his hand to tug them back upright. ]

I'll admit, I was surprised. You're really quite hard to pin down. Why is that?

[ He does a great job of stopping them once he's got them shoved off. Mira can't deny that he's right: They got too worked up, too sloppy, and the side of their face aches. Pinned down like this, jaw held in place, they look up at him with still too-bright, too-wild eyes.

The look passes. Mira lets out a breath that hangs in the air between them like smoke. They let out a low laugh, a huff more than anything. ]

Didn't you want to provoke me? [ they reply back, lips quirking up in a slightly sardonic smile. They take his hand, wobbling a little once they're on their feet. ] But I'm fine with calling it even. Save some for next time, right? Maybe you'll figure out one day why and how I surprised you so much.

[ It's cagey on purpose, because they don't want to spill a single secret to someone they've just met. They moove on breezily and gesture to their face. ]

I wouldn't worry too much about this, [ they say as they bring a hand up to the wound. Their hand glows a soft, warm gold. It's still a mess, but the worst of it is mended, but they look puzzled.

Anyway! ]

Need anything healed?

Aha. So you were playing around. How long were you planning to hold out on me?

[ Insult to injury, although Tartaglia didn't ask and doesn't elaborate, the subtext left out in the cold: he'd go longer, if only he was at full strength. So they're both at a loss. Trekking back down the long and winding path leading back to town, he shrugs off the offer to be healed: ]

I wanted to see if you were good for a fight. [ Self-assured, to the point of contentment: ] Now, I know. You couldn't bear to look away.

[ Turning his back is some kind of unveiled threat; Tartaglia isn't afraid of repercussions, doesn't know enough of fear to succumb to it. Is Mira going to come along, or just stand there? ]

Lost something important, have you? [ Obvious enough, given the bewilderment on their face. Tartaglia prefers his opponents formidable and beyond his own scope. ] Get it back and come at me again. I'll gladly welcome you with open arms.

I wasn't going to show all of my hand right off the bat. [ a pause. ] ... You're right. I couldn't. It's been a while since I fought like that.

[ It's somewhat muted, the mess of interest and curiosity and something terribly close to gratitude in their voice. It says they want to figure Tartaglia out even more.

Anyway. They will indeed follow. Mira, despite their knowing that this will very likely blow up in their face--because Tartaglia had viciously torn to the surface a part of them they've tried so hard to deny--but they're not at all new to making stupid decisions.

It's what landed them in this mess of corruption in the first place, what had resulted in that faint stirring in their chest that doesn't belong to them. The most awful part is that it's getting harder and harder to stifle that presence.

.... ]

Something like that. [ They're hesitant. They don't want to cross into the complicated territory of their powers, but maybe it would be fine here. Keeping stride next to Tartaglia, they look sideways at him with a faint smirk. ] Maybe I'll show you. But only if you're the same way. I'm not alone in losing something, am I?

That easy to tell? [ Used to a sleight of hand that won't avail itself now, Tartaglia casts his gaze sidelong. ] Either your eyes are that keen, or I'm losing my touch.

[ Most of his silence on the matter has been tactfulness, conducting himself around what's effectively knowledge in the public domain. Powerlessness isn't an easy state to accept, not when Tartaglia's ruined by so much yearning for more than he's given. Nearing the base of the hill, he pops the million-dollar question. ]

Ask away, if you want. It's no grand secret I'm keeping. I'll even demonstrate. Doubt it'd be that interesting to watch, though.

[ These nerfs are so, so heavy. ]

In a way, but mostly it was just a guess. If she's messed with my powers, then I can't be the only one.

[ They can relate. As bitter as they are about how they'd gone and acquired their powers, it feels like they've lost a part of themselves. No wonder they're conflicted. It worries them somewhat, that the desire to regain them is stronger and stronger the more they think about it. ]

I'm curious, you're not wrong. How about this: You tell me about them, and I'll do the same. No demonstrations just yet. I'd like to experience it the way it was meant to be.

I can't pass up a challenge, now can I?

[ Promptly, he unclips the gem strapped to his hip, holding it out. It shines this bright, vicious blue, a much more vibrant hue than his lightless eyes. ]

This is my Vision. Apparently, it's a power granted by the gods. [ Offhandedly: ] I could care less about that. I'll use what I'm given. With it, though, you could say I can exert control over water.

[ To put it simply, at least. Explaining concepts like Hydro constructs and manifesting H20 from nothing and the application of Riptide on his foes sounds awfully convoluted, though. ]

If I were at full power... I wonder if I could even take on the Harvest Goddess? She'd have to fight me if I challenged her authority. [ Sounds exciting! ] That must be why she inhibited it.

[ No other viable explanation for his inoperable Delusion and inability to transform, among other things. Taking even his bow, which he has the least expertise with, is horribly telling. Evidently, she fears him. ]

[ They can't stop the shadow that passes over their face, the disdain that rests there for a moment.

... But it's interesting that he doesn't care about the source, just that it gives him power. It's a thought that's crossed their mind here and there. Hearing someone else echo that feels surreal. They'll be thinking about it for a long time, unpacking what it means for them. In the meantime, though....

They mull over his last words, and it would make sense, wouldn't it. When they'd realized their speed and strength had diminished here, they'd assumed it was to keep the outworlders from killing each other. ]

... You've got a point. [ They cross their arms over their chest. ] It seems as good an explanation as we'd find, anyway. Maybe if we get our powers back some time, we might have to test your theory.

As for myself... Primarily, it's light magic. Aside from the healing you saw, I can command it in a way that suits whatever I need. Tracking, creating weapons that burn on contact, taking the light from one place and using it as amplification, and likely others I haven't discovered yet.

I'm usually a lot faster and stronger and can heal more quickly, too.

[ Must've struck a nerve. That look on Mira's face was unmistakable. Allow him to sympathize, then. ]

How about I pull the rest out of you? Everything you're hiding, all that you can't bear to reveal. Things you still don't understand about yourself. I'll go at it seriously with you until you hold nothing back.

[ Unashamedly, Tartaglia presents the offer. Empathy's a funny thing for him now. Earnestness never sounds quite right in his mouth anymore, so challenging and unsweet. But if it's all true— and he's willing to go the distance— then it's preposterous, entirely out of his scope. That alone is worth the bruises forming soft pink bracelets over his wrists that he's idly rubbing his fingertips over, struggling to visualize it: light that could burn all the way through him. ]

Trust me, it'll be fun! For now, just think it over.

[ Reaching the base of the mountain, Tartaglia spares a glance up at the sky, jewel-heavy and darkening under the setting sun. ]

I guess this is where we part ways. [ Pyra's waiting for him, and the rural farm he resides upon with her is quite a ways off still. ] Will you be alright on your own?

[ ... Hm. Mira considers that for a few moments. It's-- it's tempting, and that they haven't quickly rejected the idea... It's strange and a little difficult to process. Still. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Before, they'd refused to use their powers, too anxious that it would corrupt them even more.

They nod. ]

I'll think it over and let you know.

[ The question gives them pause, but they nod. ]

Yeah. I'll be alright. Thanks, though.

[ They definitely have a lot to think about. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

dec event overflow.

tartaglia :worry:

:weary:

closes my eyes

closes my eyes as well

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