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crescentview2022-11-30 11:55 am
crescentviewmods) wrote in crescentview2022-11-30 11:55 am
dec event.
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!
no subject
Pounding through him is all of that adrenaline, rushing in as some headstrong wave to overcome. One false move and he might not make it out intact; as it stands, he can't possibly retreat. Not when the challenge is this irresistible, and his opponent so entrancing, his movements plunging straight into remorselessness. Oh, he's strong! Perhaps more indomitable than anyone he's faced yet. Only time will tell.
Tartaglia advances into it, instead, into the only feeling he's ever loved. So much devotion towards these sick delights. No weapons to fall back upon, his powers stifled, but he could care less as he dodges the first kick and parries the next, the soles of his boots skidding along the ground. ]
Gladly. I expect you to give it your all!
[ Or just suffer for it, as Tartaglia accepts the next kick only so he can twist into terrifying proximity. Lurching forward with his fists swung up, laughter drips into his voice. ]
Hold out on me— and you'll pay the price—!
[ Miss, miss, miss— but he throws the next punch and if it finds its mark, it'll be a clean hit. Does he stick the landing? ]
no subject
there's something like slack evident in the others voice. an almost carefreeness that relieves achilles. maybe they had a lot more in common than he thought. when he dodges the kick, there's an instant whistle he makes, genuinely oo'ed by the sudden show in tenacity. then when the stranger parries, he just barely recaptures his balance as he attempts to move straight out of the way.
when the fists come his way, he does his best to dodge but considering he just landed on his own feet after his kicks, it's enough where, he's caught off-guard by his final punch. it hits him on the cheek, but he doesn't seem to mind. he seems to take it boldly, if just to throw several punches of his own. a certain unpredictability to his movements as he fakes a few before attempting to land one near his chest. honestly, he's not focusing too much on mitigating any potential damages coming in, if anything more obsessed with landing a blow on this mystery man.
the price of wanting a good fight, he supposes. ] For you, I think the price would be worth it. [ as always, even with getting a punch to the face, he speaks with an inflated sense of confidence. ]
Think, I could even handle two of you at once. [ that feel when battle dialogue always feels so... filthy. ]
no subject
[ Someone's overconfident here, and it isn't Achilles. Then again, Tartaglia's raw-boned and vicious and always raring for a fight in the end, like trying to still that compulsion towards battle that swims around him at all hours. He's not blind to what separates them; in contrast, he still has so much to learn, idling even in retreat, too slow to completely evade that pummeling fist as it rears up with so much strength behind it.
Imperfectly, he takes it; those knuckles clock his ribs, and Tartaglia laughs, a harsh, punched-out sound even as he's wrenching backwards. Now, the skin's blistering and scraped, bound to bruise by the end of the day. ]
Yield to me. I'll even let you beg!
[ THIS IS THE DIALOGUE OF ALL TIME
Struck momentarily off-balance, Tartaglia blocks the next couple of blows with his arm, then drives himself forward. So breathless, he doesn't even pause for air as he tangles Achilles up in his grip, attempting to hook a leg around him long enough to bring them both crashing to the floor. ]
no subject
except, that's not entirely true, but he thinks it's ironic, if anything. it's been a while since he's tasted that hint of metal in his mouth; the iron reminding him that he's just as real and physical as everything else. not that he didn't feel it as a servant, but it was different.
especially, coming from someone who is just as mouthy as he was. ] Beg? You'll have to do better than that to have me on my knees. [ when tartaglia blocks his attacks, he doesn't expect him to recover as quickly as he does. there's no wasted motion as he feels the leg hooking behind his and inevitably, he falls back. while he deliberates on catching himself, perhaps even recalibrating after flipping back to his leg, he decisively opts against it. especially, as he doesn't think the stranger's hook is loose enough for his escape. (odd, now that he thinks of it... that someone aims so close to his weak spot for once.)
hence, instead he reaches over and grips an arm around tartaglia's neck as if to trying to secure him to his falling body. as soon as they land, he's going to do his best and wrangle to be on top. belatedly, he wonders if this already means he's on his knees, but he decides at least in his head that it doesn't count. ]
no subject
Litheness abandons him, though. Now, his body's too low to the ground, and Achilles is overwhelming the entirety of his sight, up on top like victory's already sided with him. ]
... On your knees on me already? It took nothing at all.
[ Bitter, so bitter! Tartaglia's just mortal, trying to take what he isn't owed at all. He has nothing to him but these pestilential feelings, rotten with the pursuit of strength. Digging up resolve takes nothing at all out of him, yanking Achilles down by the collar so he can head-butt the guy and promptly go tussling around in the dirt. ]
no subject
it may have sounded like sheer arrogance to say something like this, but he was likely the only who could be so bold in front of another hero like siegfried. hence, he seems to enjoy even the colorful assortment of words they share. ] Nothing at all? Say that after you're on top. [ he huffs a bit in humor at that, especially as he feels the pull on his collar and the contact of his head, which he also fully braces for.
despite it, he attempts to keep his hold over him; attempting to try remain on top. even trying to press his knees up and on top of tartaglia's thighs enough to leave bruises. ]
no subject
[ Laughter is in him where they've slid to interlock, clutching and entangled under this terrible closeness. All the bruises remind him of the truth: he can't really stand up to someone who lingers awfully close to godhood. Not as he is now.
Even so, amusement is catching in his face, breaking the severity as his grip eventually falls loose, not mean-spirited by any conceivable measure. Instead, it's joy in him. Joy that he could land a hit on someone like this, who seems so infallible. Not like he can tell the extent of it, whatever it is that Achilles is hiding or how power he must possess that's since been stripped away. ]
I'll go for it. And I'll keep going, until you acknowledge me.
[ All he can truly recognize is that inimitable strength behind each blow, so much like the heroes his father would spin tales over. So, out of his depth, Tartaglia sinks back into the floor. Maybe next time, then. If he can earn the goddess's favor, perhaps she'll undo whatever curse is suppressing his powers. ]
... Will you let me up? I can't exactly introduce myself properly like this, can I?
[ On the floor, pinned in a completely compromising position, asking for a proper greeting is kind of suspect, but it's fine. As he waits, Tartaglia's rubbing at his own forehead, eardrums ringing. It's a good thing he didn't get concussed. Passing out now would be so embarrassing. ]
no subject
despite what tartaglia says about acknowledgement, it's far too late for that. if anything, it wouldn't be a far cry to state that the man was already firmly established on his radar. it's clear there's skill behind his movements, agility that's honed over years— it wouldn't be a far stretch to claim that the man almost seemed as bred for this as he was.
in any real battle, the lines of intimacy and aggression are so far between. as much as achilles would desire to best him, he also feels an unspoken kinship to him. as if their mutual craving for bloodshed (albeit in a very specific context) had created a bond between the both of them. ] And if I said I already acknowledge you? [ after all, he did... sorta fall to his knees, but he doesn't explicitly bring that fact back up.
instead, he gets off him, bruised body and all. he then reaches an arm out, as if to help him up. his grip firm. ] I don't make a habit of telling everyone my true name, but you can call me Achilles.
no subject
[ He nearly confides it, then. His real name. No idea why his father bestowed him with it, when Tartaglia hasn't inherited any of its gravitas yet. Lacking for so much in talent, it isn't how he recognizes himself at all. There's far too much sincerity here, like light striking his eyes after so much overwhelming darkness. Still lying on the ground after Achilles has risen, he still can't let go of this mediocrity inside himself. All he has are these nightmares from the Abyss to confront.
Ajax. Please call me Ajax.
That he seeks out approval so terribly isn't confided to Achilles in the end. Tartaglia distrusts himself completely, so the words don't come. Even so, when bidden, he reaches out with great care to take that hand. His grip is severe and painstaking. If Achilles can see that desperation in him, he hasn't let on. ]
It's Tartaglia! My name, that is. Within the ranks of the Fatui, I serve the Tsaritsa as the eleventh Harbinger and as her devoted blade. Some do know me as Childe, but it's simply an alias I've picked up in my travels. [ The young lord, not yet knighted and still below everyone's notice: Childe is a horrible title, actually, but fitting given his placement as the lowest of his fellow colleagues. Someday, he'll displace it. For now, though, he likes it plenty. Far more fitting than Tartaglia, some title that stutters the tongue. ] Address me however you like.
[ Releasing that hand, Tartaglia's glancing over at Achilles, attempting to recall how his father would describe the Trojan War's destined hero. The thought hasn't entered his mind in a long time. He's long-since traded sentiment for the pursuit of power. ]
When you say Achilles... you mean the warrior, Achilles?
no subject
if his teacher were in his shoes, he may have been able to detect the darkness and depth of tartaglia's considerations, and yet... achilles is mostly blind. only able to work on an inkling of intuition. hence, he merely responds at face value. (maybe he argues this is why he misses out on the most crucial moments?) ]
Childe, huh? [ he likes it. an alias picked up from travels... also kind of tickled him, and so he sticks to it. ] I like it. It's a good name. [ with this, he reaches out as if to give him a firm pat on the shoulder. which, only seems to lose strength when he's caught a bit off-guard at his recognition.
to be honest, while he hasn't revealed his true name to anyone aside from uta, it still stands that she didn't recognize him and considering everyone seemed to come from different worlds... he was beginning to forget what it felt like to have this instant awareness and perception of his identity. except, this was typically the norm in theory? the idea gets an almost wry smile. ] The one and only! So you've heard of me? I hope nothing bad.
[ he's joking, but he does seem to stand a bit taller, albeit with a small wince from the bruises. thanks childekun. ]
no subject
[ If he's a child, if he wants others to dote on him, if he's just some freak of nature who asks people to call him that, merely to take the plunge— he's heard it all before, and it's nice and disarming as a conversation starter. Rather than going around as a harbinger of fear and disconsolation all the time, Childe takes great pleasure in being less than dour, especially when his coworkers are fond of plotting and scheming on an ever-grander scale. ]
My father would often tell me of your exploits, among other things. I was quite fond of hearing about them. He painted you as a heroic figure!
[ It's part of the reason he was led down, and gone astray, lured into the Abyss upon the promise of chivalry and untold depths. Now, he knows for certain that there's no gloriousness in death, and what awaits at the very end is total insanity. But that's all on Childe, in the end. There's no one else to blame. ]
... I never heard the end of your tale. Because you're still living it, I suppose. [ Even bashed in, Childe can't disguise his own interest, smiling under his own contusions. Thanks for that, mister. ] Seems this place is full of mysteries. It's an honor! You'll have to tell me the rest sometime.
[ Gotta see how well the myth lines up with the legend himself. ]
For now, I'll let you off the hook. You'll be looking into getting treated, right? [ Look, they're both battered right now. Give it a week for the reunion, when Childe's going to be smacked in the face with 500 cat effects for some reason. ] So I'll be seeing you, Achilles. Take care.
[ If allowed, he will gracefully make his exit. ]