♥ September Event Log

[hugtopiamods]

September (Ohnir) Event Log
Ohnir is in full swing now and the weather, while still boasting hot days, is starting to cool slightly at night. The residents are recovering after the lightning storms from the previous month and, curiously, most of the robots that had been damaged in the storms are back. They don't look the same as before, but they seem to act the same, still happy, still thankful that the offworlders are here. A few even thank those who carried their bodies to the temples with small gifts of painted stones. Havenwell continues as it always has and welcomes their new arrivals with a few rather odd changes...

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❥ PROMPT I: Robot Crossing

Now that all the new and old arrivals have mingled and met, the robotic natives start pointing everyone toward the VR cafes. The bright lights and cozy insides have been decorated with fake leaves and carved and painted plaster approximations of fruits and vegetables in odd colors. When an offworlder comes in, they explain that back when they were still in their flesh bodies, the month of Ohnir was one for harvest and celebrations of the summer bounties. Now, without any real farms or need to eat, they've translated the Harvest Festival into a game, so why not play?

Logging in with another character will net you a little farm and a variety of games to choose from:

1. Pick and harvest as many Aellyn vegetables and fruits as you can before the timer runs out! The more you pick, the better your score. Work together with your partner to clear the field in any way you can. Strangely, once you finish clearing a tree or a field row of their bounty, they seem to magically refill when you turn your back. Oh well, at least you won't run out before the timer hits zero and with the sheer number of levels and combinations of trees and fields with obstacles in your way to make harvesting a little more challenging with each new level, you certainly won't be running out of things to do.
   
2. With a partner, use the giant slingshot to launch comically large fruits into a garden patch of other colored fruits. Match a line of 3 or more similarly shaped fruits to clear it from the field. The more fruits you can clear, the higher your score - aka welcome to Fruit Crush. Stack lines of 6 or more to get shining clear diamond fruits that clear the entire row and snag yourself some bonus points.
   
3. You and your partner(s) are given a magical golden pumpkin and it's your job to grow it into the largest pumpkin possible. Why? There's a county fair of course and the largest pumpkin wins! But how do you grow this pumpkin? Well, there are a lot of methods! You could gather up materials and work together to stick it to the pumpkin until it absorbs them and grows. You could do a song and dance routine together to encourage the pumpkin's soul to grow big and bright. You could hold hands and share stories and entertain the pumpkin until it feels encouraged enough to grow on its own. The possibilities are endless, so get to work making the best pumpkin that (digital) fair has ever seen!

As always, when playing the game, the picture and quality seems to increase as long as you're in contact with another person. Once the games are over and your scores tallied, the cafe attendant walks over and asks to see your communicators. To the winners, he or she attaches a little floating charm in the shape of one of Aellyn's weirder fruits. It looks like a cross between a blue rambutan and the hala aka puhala fruit, and it's called the sikheen fruit here. The sikheen are extremely rare nowadays, but their appearance is so unique that Havenwell residents still like to remember it for the Harvest Festival. Enjoy your prize!

❥ PROMPT II: Paint by Number

The new arrivals get to enjoy Havenwell in all its glory for about a week before suddenly, one day everyone wakes up to find the entire city has gone gray. And not a natural, nice gray either, but a strange dull, lifeless gray. Everything from the sky to the houses to the grass to the native people have all turned the exact same shade of graphite gray. Even the natives are confused and the devout flock to the temples while the science-minded head to the labs to study this new phenomenon. The only ones who seem spared from this strange color drain are the offworlders and the statues of the gods in the center of town. Or, well, at least most of the offworlders are spared. A few people might notice that their colors aren't as bright as they once were, or that parts of them are starting to turn gray as well. Those offworlders unlucky enough to lose some of their own can touch another player character to regain what was lost easily enough. Overall though, no one seems harmed by this sudden loss of color, but they're certainly perplexed.

A few days later and round silver platforms start showing up around the city, dragged out of storage by the natives. The first arrivals might remember these as the fireworks platforms that are activated by people standing and holding hands on them. The temple priests and scientists encourage the offworlders to stand on the platforms again and to hold hands or engage in some other sort of physical contact on them and wait.

When characters do as asked, the platforms shoot fireworks like they did before - in brilliant colors instead of the dull gray everywhere. And wherever the sparks fall, color starts returning to the world in splotches. The natives are overjoyed and move the platforms all across the city, asking the offworlders to find and use them wherever possible to return the color to their town.

❥ PROMPT III: Sharing is Caring

Ohma's temple is particularly lively during Ohnir and the priests are busy cleaning and sweeping, decorating it with rolls of parchment and digital inkwells and quills that write as if they were actually fountain pens. The natives, especially adherents of Ohma, start to make pilgrimages to the temple in little processions, some playing music, others flying banners. It would probably be far more impressive if the colors weren't still so gray and splotchy, but they're trying their best.

Anyone who chooses to follow can observe the natives going up to the altar and sharing stories with one another. They talk about things they did over the past year or things that are far, far in their past. Some of the stories are happy and result in the procession laughing and some are...well, not everyone came back from the lightning storms. The priests diligently write every story down on those parchment rolls and deposit them onto the waiting altar, where they're summarily lit on fire to the cheers of those present. The more emotional the story it seems, the brighter and bluer the flame that it emits and the louder the procession cheers.

As the file out, they notice you watching and urge you to go up with someone else in the temple to clear your heart and offer up your own stories. They can be stories of home, information about your worlds, or stories about your life. It seems the more personal the story, the brighter the flame though and the more Dora that will mysteriously show up in your account at a later date. If the priests are asked about this donation later, they're just as perplexed. No one they know would have paid anyone for an offering to Ohma, so where could it have come from....?

❥ PROMPT IV: Sleep Sweet

With Ainea's temple familiars finally back where they belong, quiet returns to the city at night. We're sure that first long uninterrupted sleep felt heavenly, right? Although there may not be color in the city, the world of dreams at least is fully technicolor and safe. Which might be weird for some characters in case they don't normally dream or remember their dreams because now everyone is dreaming at night. Most of the dreams are the usual variety that your character always has, but every so often in the midst of a pleasant dream about home or a funky one about flying pizza (whatever it is you usually dream about, we don't judge), there's a glitch.

Out of the corner of your eye or just on the edge of your vision, a person appears. Their face can't be seen and their arms are longer than they have any right to be, but they appear and stand there, watching. Trying to focus on this person causes them to flit away and it's easy enough to dismiss as a random event, until it keeps happening. And it keeps happening, and it keeps happening, and every time you see this person, they get closer and even less distinct. Waking up and talking to or holding someone might help calm that disquiet in your heart, offworlder, so hopefully there's someone around to help you.

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This event will run from September 16th to September 30th. Click on each prompt's title to see the text. If you have any questions, feel free to direct them to the FAQ or to the Mod Question thread on the OOC Entry.

Feel free to also use the OOC Plotting Post for planning what your character is up to!

Comments

Era ☘ Final Fantasy XIV [ ᴅɪᴀᴄᴛ ]

[astralera]

→ GREYSCALE WORLD

[ The sudden lack of colour to the world is disconcerting, though Era has experienced more disconcerting things in recent times and thus does not bother herself overmuch with the issue. It isn't overtly dangerous and, if she's honest, the grey is well suited to her current lethargic melancholy, so she can accept it for the time being.

When the fireworks arrive Era is briefly reminded that it should by around the time of The Rising, if time lined up properly with her home world. Something in her heart twists at the thought (homesick), and she quickly looks away. If prompted to aid in setting off the fireworks and restoring some colour, Era is equally quick to hurry away, viscerally uncomfortable with the thought of touching strangers in such a way.

She doesn't notice that her eyes, normally a unique, vibrantly bright shade of blue, have been leeched of colour until they're left a shade of grey so bright one might mistake them for an unnatural white, were it not for the bright radiance of her limbal rings. ]

→ THEY ONCE LIVED

[ Era dislikes being the center of attention even on the best of days, surrounded by those she knows. On her not-so-best days, surrounded by strangers, Era loathes it. But she had made a promise to her soul's old friend and she is not wont to forsake a man's final request, so Era stands in Ohma's temple, clearly quite viscerally uncomfortable, and recites the story she told a fortnight ago in another world. *major spoilers for 5.0

For all that her expression remains either stoic or marred by a deep, inexplicable sadness, her melodic voice waxes and wanes, telling the story of an ancient people long forgotten with great emotion.

As soon as she's finished she offers a small bow and hurries away, heart pounding in her chest and deafening in her horns, eager to escape to somewhere private. ]

→ GOOD NIGHT AND SWEET DREAMS

[ The dreams don't really bother her any worse than anything else in her life does — anxiety, discontent, and a deep-rooted feeling of wrongness pervades her on a daily basis, so what difference does it make? She was mildly unsettled after the colour drained from her eyes and the long-armed creature continued to appear in her dreams, but Emet-Selch had reassured her that her 'brilliance is no greater than usual', immediately settling any growing unease whilst simultaneously making her uncomfortable.

Still, Era isn't exactly fond of long-armed creatures invading her dreams, and decides to sleep less than she has been thus far. Unfortunately this means she is awake more often, leaving her keenly aware of just how little she has to occupy her time with now. In the end she finds herself wandering the city after nightfall in an absentminded daze, accompanied by the bright glow of her Carbuncle (as leeched of colour as her eyes). There is nothing she particularly cares to think about, and too much she tends to dwell upon. Wandering in an almost meditative state is... It makes things bearable, she supposes, and right now bearable is enough for her. ]

→ WILDCARD

{{ i'm open to pretty much whatever! c: }}

storytime

[scourgingstars]

[It was as if the star itself had fallen ill.]

[Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest as Ardyn listened to her speak--not the maelstrom of Starscourge, but something at once simpler yet more profound. He remembered, as distantly as a hazy dream, being told legends of the Astral War by their parents. Of Ifrit casting the Meteor down upon their star, and the plague it wrought with its fall.]

[He remembered the ancient Solheim ruins, ancient remnants of a civilization advanced beyond imagination. She had always been so fascinated by them, of delving deep into a history forgotten in all but fragmented legend. Childhood stories that became far too real, and a hero fallen to darkness himself with no gods to turn to.]

[...When Era finished speaking, Ardyn realized he'd been caught a bit too transfixed and moved to leave himself--in his own hurry their paths met and his shoulder caught her own.]

Ah--forgive me, I wasn't watching where I was going, I-...er...

[astralera]

[ She's in enough of a rush to leave, mind a chaotic swirl of memories and regret, that when Ardyn knocks into her she stumbles. It is only her years of combat training combined with her tail, which has stuck itself out straight behind her as a counterbalance, that keeps her from being knocked over entirely. As Era rights herself her tail remains raised in alarm for a moment longer, but settles back down soon enough.

It takes her a few attempts before she finds her words, then another to find her voice. Speaking at length like that is not something she finds easy; it wears her out in a way war never seems to manage. ]

Hello, Ardyn.

[scourgingstars]

Hello.

[He'd put a hand out to help steady her, but didn't call her by name--he couldn't bring himself to say it.]

I'm sorry for my carelessness--are you hurt?

[astralera]

[ Era makes sure to step away from his touch the instant it is no longer required, uncomfortable. That she seems perfectly at ease near him is at least indicative that it's nothing personal — in fact, she makes no move to put any distance between them, despite their unintentional encounter having left her closer to him than what she would consider respectful. ]

Think naught of it. [ She looks mildly amused. ] I am entirely unharmed.

[scourgingstars]

You looked a bit...out of sorts.

[He pulled his hand back quickly as well, unwilling or unable to initiate any sort of real contact.]

Perhaps it was inconsiderate of me to try to leave so suddenly, after hearing such a tale recounted.

[astralera]

[ The amusement quickly fades, and she looks away, tail shifting to curl around her leg. ]

I... suppose I am a bit out of sorts. [ It's a quiet admittance, barely loud enough to be heard. The rest of her words are not much louder, though she makes sure she can be heard without strain to the poor man's little ears. ] I am not wont to speak in front of crowds, but some stories need telling.

[ She gives a quick, reassuring shake of her head to what he says next. ] It was not inconsiderate of you.

[scourgingstars]

Holding the attention of a crowd is a difficult skill to master indeed. That said...I must confess your story reminded me of my own home, somewhat. Would it put you any more at ease were I to share a tale of my own with you?

[astralera]

It is more that I dislike such attention. Unfortunately I am in a position that affords me too much of it.

[ Again, she gives a small shake of her head. ] You needn't share it for my sake. If you wish to tell it, however, I am happy to listen.

[scourgingstars]

I've found myself in such a position as well, in the past.

[A small, tired shrug.] It seems only fair. Besides, perhaps it could be better off spoken should such things serve a purpose in this world.

[astralera]

Will you tell it as an offering? [ She gestures to the altar. ] Or did you intend to tell it elsewhere?

[scourgingstars]

...hm. Fair point, though I'd like to help I'm not one to desire to draw attention. Would you like to step outside?

[astralera]

[ Era nods, more than happy to agree. She has no fondness for any of these 'gods' or their hallowed grounds, and is eager to get away. ]

+ wildcard

[unsunderworld]

[The night after her story, Era will note that Emet-Selch returns to their shared home a bit later than his usual wanderings. His expression is a thoughtful frown, one turned inward, and he sets about the usual matters of actually cooking (since his companion can't be fully trusted to do so) in uncharacteristic silence.

It is only once the food is in the oven and he's started the task of cleaning up that he speaks.]

You managed to catch on to a few things I don't recall ever mentioning.

[astralera]

[ Hades would find that his Warrior of Light was curled up on the couch with her Carbuncle (white like Alphinaud's at a glance, but not quite right—), fast asleep, though not peaceful in her slumber. She holds fast to her aetherial companion, though its eager wiggles and excited yips rouse her quickly enough. Groggily, Era lets her Carbuncle run free to assault the Ascian's legs, pressing its weight against them and twining itself around them, making a nuisance of itself. ]

That is a statement, not a question.

[unsunderworld]

[Hello, Carbuncle, you are certainly enthusiastic today. Emet-Selch only frowns briefly at the construct's color before leaning against the counter - no, he's not leaning down to pet you today.]

So it is. There seem to be many of those going around today.

[You're being every bit as oblique as he is!]

I thought the inquiry quite well implied, myself.

[astralera]

[ She remains on the couch, though with Carbuncle's abandonment she unfurls herself and stretches out upon the cushions instead. Carbuncle seems very put-out by the man's lack of affection, sitting at his feet and staring up at him with the arcane equivalent of puppy-dog eyes. ]

"From whence did you get all of that information if not from my own words?" [ While she can't mimic his voice she can certainly mimic his intonation and inflection — quite well, at that. ]

The Amaurotine shades you created were not lacking in knowledge, Hades.

[unsunderworld]

...Hythlodaeus.

[Perhaps someone else might have needed more information, to come so quickly to that conclusion. But he knows well enough what he made, who he made -

Only one of those shades even merited a name. Too many of the rest are lost to memory and his own pain. Only one shadow might have known.]

I did wonder, if leaving even a facsimile of him might have been a mistake.

[astralera]

Hythlodaeus, yes. The nameless Amaurotines filled in other details... And Mother had spoken to me of Rejoinings long before you and I met.

But Hythlodaeus saw things you could not. He was most helpful. My new-old friend. [ There is a sadness at that, but she does her best to brush it aside. ]

[unsunderworld]

To see things even I could not was his wont; he might have had a position on the Convocation, indeed my own, had he any desire for it. I was, in fact, the second choice; one might say that my habit of observing owes itself to his memory.

[There is a strange combination of fondness and bite to his words; the irritation is different from how he has in the past spoken of Lahabrea and even his current descendants. This feeling, instead, is that of someone speaking of a dear, yet irritating, friend.]

[astralera]

[ To hear that Hythlodaeus turned down such a prestigious position is less of a shock than it is to hear that Hades was the second choice for the title of Emet-Selch. It's enough that the last dregs of sleep fall away and she sits up, shuffling to peer over the side of the couch at him with eyes so leeched of colour they look Light-tainted.

What isn't surprising is the emotion with which he speaks of their mutual friend. ]

I am glad you gave life to his memory.

[ I wish I could remember him, she thinks, and her Carbuncle whines at the Architect's feet. ]

[unsunderworld]

...If not I, then who? There is no one else; even before Lahabrea's, ahem, departure, there was no one else.

[He can near enough hear her thoughts, and turns away from her and the carbuncle both. He has dishes to finish. (Time may have cured him of the stubborn refusal to resort to mundane means of such things, but it will never cure him of the resentment that he must.)]

I do at times wonder what has become of his soul; it has been some lifetimes since I last saw it. No doubt but that it would be one of those possessed of the Gift; beyond that I could not say.

[astralera]

The Echo? There are many of us in possession of it. I'm certain he will turn up again eventually, likely when most convenient.

[ She continues to watch him, resting her chin atop the back of the couch. The weariness begins to crawl back in, and Era doesn't bother to fight it. She can understand why Emet-Selch was so prone to napping — it makes time pass by without you needing to bear it. ]

Do you need to eat?

[unsunderworld]

Or inconvenient, depending on one's view.

[Such was their relationship, after all.

He does twist his head over his shoulder to look at her - it's a more significant twist than someone with a more typical neck would be typical of, giving her a perfect view of his profile.]

I am wearing a mortal skin, my dear, yes. Also, taste is one of the greatest sensory pleasures afforded to living things.

[astralera]

[ His profile is interesting, and unlike any she's seen before. Perhaps if she afforded more attention to his descendants' facial features she might find some similarities, but the thought of interacting further with Varis or the body of the crown prince is unappealing to say the least. ]

You cannot sustain it with aether? [ With a mortal form it wouldn't be any way efficient, but she cannot help but be curious. ]

I enjoy the texture of food.